doctor G
05-29-2005, 08:01 PM
I got my brother stoned for the first time when he was about 13. He knew I had
been smoking for a while and had been bugging me to get him stoned too. I had
brought home some really good pot from boarding school so I had some good
stuff lying around. It must have been late 1968 and we were sitting around one
Sunday night watching the Ed Sullivan Show when Ric finally convinced me to
get him high. I got out my bag of weed and some papers and rolled a joint.
My room was in the attic so no one else in the house would have to put up
with my music or my incense. I was experimenting with alternative religions at the
time. I had been in Southeast Asia the summer before and brought back a small
Buddhist shrine and kept incense and offerings before it. I had also experimented
with a number of drugs while I was in Hong Kong and in Bangkok. In an attempt
to keep peace between his step children and me my father had given me the
room farthest from the rest of the household and closest to the attic fan. The
stepchildren were all younger than me and had no clue what I was up to. If I
opened up a window and switched on the fan I could burn incense or smoke in
my room and no one else in the house caught the smell.
Posters from San Francisco covered my walls and Bob Dylan blaring from
the stereo my room was a refuge from the middle class suburbia that my family
found so reassuring. The stairway to my room was covered in anti-war and
anti-establishment graffiti. With bean bag chairs and a futon mattress it was my
suburbia escape capsule. I lit a few sticks of incense and got the big attic fan
going then we settled into the bean bags and fired up the first joint. As Ed
Sullivan introduced the acts I explained the stoning process to Ric. I helped him
understand to take small hits and draw them deep into his lungs and hold them
just as long as possible. Not like cigarettes I explained, just the opposite. So we
smoked and watched as the singers performed and Red Skelton threw out one
liners. As the joint got close to the bottom I clipped it up and we smoked to the
end. When to got too small to hit I crushed it and swallowed the remains. No
evidence. As we watched a skit about a Pillsbury Doughboy Frankenstein my
brother turned to me and said
??I think I??m getting high, I feel like mashed potatoes on the inside without
the wetness and everything looks like cardboard cutouts?
??You are there? I told him, ??that??s stoned? and we smoked another one to
celebrate.
been smoking for a while and had been bugging me to get him stoned too. I had
brought home some really good pot from boarding school so I had some good
stuff lying around. It must have been late 1968 and we were sitting around one
Sunday night watching the Ed Sullivan Show when Ric finally convinced me to
get him high. I got out my bag of weed and some papers and rolled a joint.
My room was in the attic so no one else in the house would have to put up
with my music or my incense. I was experimenting with alternative religions at the
time. I had been in Southeast Asia the summer before and brought back a small
Buddhist shrine and kept incense and offerings before it. I had also experimented
with a number of drugs while I was in Hong Kong and in Bangkok. In an attempt
to keep peace between his step children and me my father had given me the
room farthest from the rest of the household and closest to the attic fan. The
stepchildren were all younger than me and had no clue what I was up to. If I
opened up a window and switched on the fan I could burn incense or smoke in
my room and no one else in the house caught the smell.
Posters from San Francisco covered my walls and Bob Dylan blaring from
the stereo my room was a refuge from the middle class suburbia that my family
found so reassuring. The stairway to my room was covered in anti-war and
anti-establishment graffiti. With bean bag chairs and a futon mattress it was my
suburbia escape capsule. I lit a few sticks of incense and got the big attic fan
going then we settled into the bean bags and fired up the first joint. As Ed
Sullivan introduced the acts I explained the stoning process to Ric. I helped him
understand to take small hits and draw them deep into his lungs and hold them
just as long as possible. Not like cigarettes I explained, just the opposite. So we
smoked and watched as the singers performed and Red Skelton threw out one
liners. As the joint got close to the bottom I clipped it up and we smoked to the
end. When to got too small to hit I crushed it and swallowed the remains. No
evidence. As we watched a skit about a Pillsbury Doughboy Frankenstein my
brother turned to me and said
??I think I??m getting high, I feel like mashed potatoes on the inside without
the wetness and everything looks like cardboard cutouts?
??You are there? I told him, ??that??s stoned? and we smoked another one to
celebrate.