2006′
Wow it is 2006.. where has all the time gone. the past 20 years have been moving pretty damn quickly… I just don’t understand how it seems so fast..
I remember so many new years eves i was high for.. One in particular stands out. it was 1989, and I was hanging with some friends up at some dudes chalet we stayed in in Stowe VT.. The guy’s family was like Uber rich. I don’t know how, or who actually knew this guy.. but there was like 30 of us partying our asses off.. Listening too music.. Smoking, drinking, and other party stuff..
The dude was very very stiff, he needed to chill… A couple of us basically hooked him up with this girl all night, so he would pretty much be out of the picture.. There was also a bunch of ski bunnies, and ski dudes there which helped cause they had some pretty damn good smoke..
Well it was about 5 mintues too midnight, and of course kissing time… well i always had a tradition of lighting the first joint of the new year and smoking it.. soo i stood outside, lit the bitch up, and watched as the house dude and that girl going at it in the snow.. I had to salute him.. that is some damn cold shit.. but hey getting laid is getting laid right…..
Me every year, i have lit one up at 11:59.. my little tradition.. if anything I am a creature of habit…
This story went nowhere I know..
Peace and smiles..
January 5th, 2006 at 2:15 pm
Grin… that’s why you’re missing the last two decades!
Of course I’ve got no such tradition and the time’s flying by for me, too. Gotta agree with the ski bums having the best smoke. Somehow the snowboarders just never got up to that same level.
January 5th, 2006 at 4:11 pm
>> This story went nowhere I know..
Which fits right in with the theme of this place. I’m enjoying the stories, Ardy, I just don’t get around to commenting as much as I’d like.
January 6th, 2006 at 1:13 pm
Yes, the stories are great, RD, keep ‘em coming. And here I thought the highlight of NYE was a stiff drink and a falling ball. When actually, it was lighting up and being high. Heh.
I have a cousin who went through all of the phases of drug use and more during the late sixties and into the middle seventies. My uncle was in the Army, so Clay grew up on or around bases in many states, even in Germany for a while. Clay was a teenager when they lived in Hawaii, and got into the surfing scene. Which scene had almost as many smokers as ski bums, probably.
I visited their family once, after my uncle retired, and they were living in N. California, Marin County. Clay lived with his girlfriend in Redwood City, and came up to visit while I was there. My uncle had a greenhouse, in which Clay was allowed to grow ONE pot plant. My uncle said it was all right to grow it, but Clay was not to “harvest” it. Yeah, right. Classic example of “don’t ask, don’t tell.” Clay nipped off several heads while he was there. Also appropriated a spare hemostat my uncle had. (My uncle was an oral surgeon.)
I followed Clay home to Redwood City, to see where he lived-a gaudily painted house with two dismantled trucks in the drive. Clay cleaned and rolled the pot, lighting up with the hemostat as roach clip. I declined to participate.
Clay’s big problem was with alcohol, and it was only after he was married and had a couple of kids that he finally realized that, and quit booze. Still smokes, though. Lives up in the mountains of Northern California, supports himself by cutting firewood, and promoting a yearly Blues Festival that is pretty successful. Both of his kids are grown and out of the house, surprisingly straight, considering the wild ride their father had through his younger years. But that’s life, we go different ways from our parents, sometimes.
Anyway, Clay is extremely mellow and an warm, friendly person. Pot agrees with him.
Pax.
January 11th, 2006 at 1:16 am
this is my 1st time here and i like it already!
KUDOS