Reefer Madness
I have now officially popped by guest posting cherry over at Bad Ass Geek. Here’s what I said:
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When both of your parents are hippies, there isn’t a whole hell of a lot of things that you can do to rebel. I mean, any parents who protested the Vietnam War and marched at the Democratic National Convention (the rioting one), and admitted to smoking the ganja often and with gusto aren’t exactly the sort that might ground you for being 3 minutes past curfew.
Hell, I didn’t even HAVE a curfew.
Nor did I have any real ground rules to follow other than to be kind to living things. And not vote Republican.
Between the admitted lack of boundaries and my incredible sense of Not Wanting To Get Busted, it was with many hooting and hollering friends that I called my mother to get permission to smoke The Weed for the first time.
I was 14, I’d just gotten my tonsils taken out (no small surgery for someone past the age of 6) and I wanted to make sure that nothing weird was going to happen. Like I specifically didn’t want to suddenly think that jumping off the roof was a great way to finally fllllyyyyyy, like always happened in the DARE movies.
She was taken aback, my poor mother, when I called her and asked her if I could toke up with my friends. To her credit, she didn’t laugh hysterically or anything, but she did sound pretty surprised even as she agreed to it. Providing, of course, that I drink a lot of water.
Drinking lots of water and going out in the sunshine are two of my mother’s favorite pieces of advice. I could probably be bleeding to death in the woods from a gunshot wound, and if I were to see her she would likely tell me to drink some water and lay out in the sunshine.
My first choice of Smoking Implement was a 3 foot purple glass bong I’d named Stinky, and as my friend Josh lit the herb at the bottom of the tube, I sucked in as hard as I could, my finger covering the rush hole. The smoke in the chamber reached a thick consistency we called “mayonnaise,” and after I held in my first toke and blew it out, I put my mouth back at the rim, unplugged the rush hole and sucked in.
In that moment, I suddenly earned the respect of each and every seasoned pot smoker I knew as I cleared the chamber. Apparently this was no small feat.
After I was done with my hit, I popped off the bed and bopped into the other room, squeaking out a “Thanks, guys!” as the room burst into rounds of applause for Wonder Girl, Pot Smoker Extraordinaire.
I didn’t get high that first time, despite the massive influx of Mary Jay into my system, I felt nothing. Perhaps I was a smidgen gigglier (no huge feat for an admittedly giggly 14 year old girl), perhaps it was just the atmosphere in that house that night.
Perhaps it was all just one toke over the line (Sweet Jesus).
Tell me about one of YOUR first times. I could use some entertainment, dammit!
Yeah. My kids have a hippie mother too. I loved that post.
The title alons dragged me in here – now I gotta go back up and read the post since there was no ACTUAL reefer here (hmmph…)
ha! My parents asked me like a year ago (when I was 24 or 25) whether I had ever smoked pot. I didn’t tell them the truth (every day!) and I was all “um….do you really want to know the answer to the question?”
My kids will have hippie parents, so we’ll see how that goes. 🙂
OK – Read it! Now, my mom would fall over dead with a heart attack had I made that phone call – actually she would fall over dead now if I admitted the tokalicious details. So awesome parents Aunt Becky!
My first hit – I swear to this day I think they gave me dried herbs of the cooking variety cause not a licka shit nothing happened – not even the giggles (I too was 14). I think I giggled more when the guys all said they were gettin them some ‘hiney’ and were referring to the Heinekins they were drinking.
But the next time I smoked it (many years later I will admit) – I got the ‘high’ I had been hoping for – giggles, munchies and all the paranoia one woman could ask for. I never smoked again for fear of revealing state secrets locked in my mind I didn’t even know I held. Whew! That coulda created a national incident.
I was pretty boring. I didn’t start smoking pot or cigarettes until I was 21. And I only did it then to impress a smokin’ hot chick at college who got free weed from the hockey team. I didn’t pay for pot for an entire semester and although my first time we smoked from a pipe, I quickly learned that you make do with what you have, even if all you have is a soda can, apple or 2-liter bottle of Sprite.
I was 14 too, with a hippie mama as well. Hippie mama wasn’t home, but my sister and a friend of hers had recently started “taking the pot” as my sweet, sweet aunt calls it. They had acquired some (from where I don’t know) and asked a friend of mine and myself if we’d like to join them. We all sat in a circle on sis and my bedroom floor, all cross-legged and Kumbaya like.
We smoked out of a weird pipe that was like an old man’s tabacco pipe, but had a black rubber hose on it, instead of a barrel. We must have passed that crap around for a good hour. By the time we were done, I literally had to crawl out to the living room. I curled up onto the giant beanbag chair (told you, total hippie house) and watched The State and laughed my ass off. My kind sister made me some ramen noodles, and then I’m pretty sure I passed the F out!
Ahh the good ole days.
“Wonder Girl, Pot Smoker Extraordinaire” should be your new tagline.
I was 20 and working for the summer at an automotive plant where the weed was the plentiful. I bought some for my younger sister who was a regular smoker at the time, and decided to join in.
Five months later my dorm room was raided. By the Triad. I shit you not.
” and they laughed and laughed from…reefer madness”
OMG i remember having to watch this “informative” movie from the 1950’s…hilarious.
Mine was in my friend’s basement w/ her brother—she was the baby of like 5 kids…and was the “change of life” baby…all her siblings were 10+ years older that us….
I had never heard the term “roach clip”….it bascially turned out to be an aligator clip from my friends feather hair thingy( welcome to 1980-something my friends)….i never smoked anything before that….but fondly remember the feeling….we sat around after and drank jolt cola and ate cheetos till we all fell asleep…
i found your blog via Mrs. Spits blog list which i found via Pieces of Me…..i have popped in and out to read your comments (they always make me laugh) and todays made me laugh out loud, not great considering i am at work but i can relate so you are getting a comment from me (finally) i grew up with the same sort of no boundary style parenting….my mom had one rule and it was if i wasn’t going to make it home to please call her…..seemed like a good rule!! first time i tried pot i was a bit older like 16 or 17 and i don’t remember much from the evening, could have been the amount i drank prior to the pot….you just never know!!
Got an hour? Seiously…I don’t want to embarrass my mom, or I would post this on my own blog.
My sister was quite the ‘bad girl’ and she, being 4 years older than me , paved the way so that nothing I did was as bad as her.
My parents were – not permissive as much as realistic. We smoked the doob at home, and so did our friends because my parents knew we were going to do the shit that all kids do, but would rather we did it at home, while they were there…so we didn’t get into trouble loitering or driving around and what not.
So- I was in 6th grade…sister had a party..She and her friends thought I was cute and wanted to get me high. They literally held me down and blew shotguns in my face. I sort of protested, and if I really didn’t want to do it- sister would have stopped.
The next year, I asked her to get me high. Smoke a doobie and went to a dance at school. The lights were all trippy and swirly and cool.
Then, the Apogee bong was introduced and the rest is history. They called me Iron Lungs….all through college.
Truth be known…I still love being stoned. Helps me sleep.
I feel like such a good-two-shoes around you. I have never smoked The Pot, not for lack of wanting…just never had the opportunity. It’s on my Bucket List though. Is that sad?
my parents were hippies too! I remember watching them smoke pot on Christmas eve, and eating all the cokies I had made for santa. When I started smoking pot, they were all “whatever”
Hee hee hee my parents were not by any stretch “the pot” smokers. My mom has never even drank anything harder than coffee. Me? I was a total rebel (wanna be). My first time?? I thought my throat was closing up and that God was going to kill me and tell my mother.
I soon got over that though.
There were lots of “that seventy show” dinners at my house.
My mom asking “honey are you ok?” Me laughing and chasing my mac and cheese around my plate.
I was double dating with a girlfriend of mine and I decide I was going to take a drag. Never even smoking a cigarette I took in a big mouthful of smoke and swallowed. I made quite an impression on my date when I threw up spaghetti all overhim in the back seat of the car. Good times indeed.
Well, I got high off a bunch of kids fishbowling an apartment and I had no idea why I floated home and ate an entire package of Oreos until a few months later when I actually smoked for real. Looking back on it, it was pretty funny!
I am such a dork. I’ve never smoked pot. Now my sisters/step-brothers on the other hand….
I was 18 the first time I smoked pot. I think I may have gotten high from all the Lysol I sprayed to cover up the fact that I just *knew* the cops were gonna bust in any moment and take me to jail for smoking pot. So the paranoia ended my brief foray into pot. Now shrooms……well that is a whole ‘nother story entirely!
The first time I ever smoked pot I was 18. All of my friends were pretty much stoners, but I never tried it before that. Mostly because I didn’t know how to inhale and felt too stupid to admit it. Anyway, I’d seen people roll hundreds of times and figured I could do it. I did. I actually did a pretty good job. Except I didn’t know you had to take the seeds out. They kept falling out of the joint and burning us like hot lumps of coal.
Oh, memories.
My mom was the hippie mom too, and I rebelled by becoming an Alex P. Keaton clone(you know yuppie, well dressed republican conservative goody two shoes type).
I have never smoked the pot.
I think my life was too chaotic, I craved stability. I am also a control freak, so losing control via substance not my idea of a good time. Good Lord, reading that sentence made me realize what an old fogey I am!!!
Jeez, I don’t think I remember an actual first time. I know when I was 16 I hung out with a group of girls and we used to hang out with random guys and party a lot. I went through quite a “stupid teenager” phase.
I remember my first time taking shrooms, at a Woodstock reunion thing in Bethel. Of course I was also stoned off my ass at the time.
My first time included my brother, I definitely inhaled, and the carpet tiles on the kitchen floor had never looked more groovey! As a matter of fact, they might have been dancing.
Being one of the mind that “if you are going to do something bad, then really go for it”… The first night I smoked The Weed was also the first night I dove into the big C (um, yeah I know) and all this was while my current’s husband’s ex wife has snuck my then boyfriend to FLA to see me (but she was really sleeping with him to).
If you’re gonna go to hell in a handbasket then enjoy the ride, right?
Yeah, I’m the girl who never tried it.
I took off my clothes a lot in high school, though.
I too tried to suck all the smoke out of the chamber, gagged myself and promptly yakked down the back of my then boyfriend. I tried it once more, felt nothing and decided that this was soooo not worth it. And went back to smoking the sugar tipped clove cigarettes.
I loved reading that post – because it is so vastly different than my parents, and that is what I found so cool. I love the fact that your parents and my parents were as different as night and day it sounds like – yet every time you write about something I find myself nodding my head in agreement because I feel so similar about things! I don’t have a “first time” story because sadly I’ve never had a “first time” unless you count the first time I got drunk. I still love my martinis (gosh how I miss them) but that’s about as wild as I get, LOL! My mom was actually in the convent – yes the convent. But she realized it wasn’t for her and she dropped out and married my dad 🙂
Whoa, I don’t even remember my first time, but I think I was around 13, and I musta liked it, because I was the biggest stoner in the world! I LOVED pot, and sometimes used to skip work to stay home with some guys who rented our garage (when I lived with a friend) and smoke pot all day. Hello my name is baseballmom and I’m a pot smokin’ fiend. My parents were pretty oblivious, and used to let us have hot tub parties with kegs, so we were lucky! They were the ‘cool’ parents, and in return, knew most of what was going on with us. I was scared of any other drugs, tried acid only once, and haven’t smoked in years and years, although a friend and I tried to on a vacation with both of our families and had to quit when the kids kept trying to look out the window at us…like high school all over again, trying not to get busted! I would probably still do it, if I wasn’t scared of all of the stuff that it’s laced with/dipped in nowadays–not your mama’s pot anymore, kids!
The first time I got high, I was 12, and I was with the teenage guys in the neighborhood. I got really high, laughed my ass off, and I’ve been smokin ever since!
At least now it’s only once in a while, but it calms me down. I’m a bit hyper, so I could do it every day if I wasn’t worried about my lungs.
*new reader* The first time I smoked, I got SO high! We were listening to free Bird and my friend and I were sitting on the couch. Husband was sitting by the speaker and he kept looking over at us and wondering what the “squeaking” was. It was us talking. I sat there and ate starbursts and “floated” home. I SWEAR I floated up the stairs to our apartment. Good times!!!
-D
I had my first joint at age nineteen. Which is pretty late, considering that I live in the Netherlands. By that time I’d been on booze and I’d even done mushrooms already, but no pot for some reason. I just never got around to it or something, even though my now-husband smoked on a semi-frequent basis.
Anyway, we had a party with two friends the night before, and in the morning after we surprisingly weren’t hungover with the amount of beer we’d consumed. We were in a weird mood, so we got ourselves a brilliant breakfast with eggs and croissants and orange juice and tea (and a single rose in a vase in the middle of the table) and just grinned at each other while eating our croissants. And then we went to sit on the balcony and we lit a joint. It was fun, I had giggles, and then we went to play pinball on the playstation. That was hilarous, because we were too out of it to actually remember to use the flippers so we sucked bigtime. Much hilarity ensued. 🙂
These days I do pot sometimes, maybe once every few months or something. My dad’s response when he spotted the bong in our livingroom was that he’d like to try sometime. My mom thinks its evil and all drugs are bad, but we agree to disagree on that, and all is peachy in Lannie-land. 🙂
So that was my first time 😀
My experience with it was purely by osmosis. I was the good girl in high school who hung with the group who would do it every morning at someone’s boyfriend’s house before school, then I’d be in the backseat of soemone else’s boyfriend’s car during open lunch while they smoked in the park next to the school. Wash, rinse, repeat. I may have had the only non-hippie parents out there, and was always with the, “Oh, maybe you shouldn’t be doing that…” tone when with my friends.
I was SO lame!
Hmmm. Wow. I never tried it either. Still have never tried it or any other “illicit” drug. The intravenous valium and demerol they gave me for an outpatient surgery was the closest I ever came. But it was *REALLY HAPPY*. I really enjoyed watching them cut me open, and the doctors and nurses kept saying they’d never had anyone handle it quite that well before.
Even in the Navy, I only got really drunk maybe once a year. I was just – am just? – a total control freak. I was surrounded by pot (even in the Navy!) and I think the reason my dear, fabulous hippie aunt is sane (as opposed to having completely stepped out due to what seems to be bipolar disorder) is her regular tokage. And whatever it takes to keep her happy is fine by me.
Weird that something I’m afraid will destroy what I think of as “control” is the same thing that gives her control.
my mom is still a stoner…but wasn’t okay with me smoking pot at 12 y.o.a.!! I was in Houston, TX vacationing with my grandparents…a “cousin” took me to a Beastie Boys and Run DMC concert..and we were passing it around at the concert. I don’t really remember much..but did have a very long love affair with “the pot” which lasted until my late 20’s.
Hey I can’t smoke pot. I am one of those people that laugh and then cry, then laugh, then cry for hours. It is torture. You know the one thing that should of led me to realizing I was trans is that when I would smoke pot I would have to bind my breasts….they just felt like they did not belong and they bothered the shit out of me lol
OK a First….this is really bad…bad…bad..bad but on my wedding night (just one of those magistrate court things and going to dinner with our witnesses afterwards) we went home and took acid. OMG we stayed up all night tripping. Thats when I became the “tripping pig.”
So for some reason I picked up the phone and amaziningly my husbands bosses voice was coming out of the phone. I yelled over to him…hey your bosses voice is coming out of the phone. So he got on the phone and it really was his boss…not the thing you want to happen when your tripping acid.
By the way my 2nd wedding to the same man, yeah we actually got divorced, was much nicer and traditional. If you can call walking down the isle bafefoot and pregnant for you wedding tradtional. I could not get the shoes on!
I had LOTS to rebel against and you know what a nerd I was? I think I only broke curfew once and that was only because my rebel sister was skinny dipping in the pool and refused to go home. I entertained myself by playing drinking games with coca cola (as the responsible designated driver) and couldn’t sleep for 24 hours. My mother also ended up phoning at 4am and I still remember the dripping wet host of the party holding out the phone and saying, “It’s your mother …”
As for pot, the first time was very boring. It was a smokers weekend in Amsterdam and eventually we banned smoking because all we did was sit around the table and stare into space, averaging a word every half an hour. We decided that was boring and moved back to alcohol. It only got interesting later with a very lucious boyfriend, but that was before H so of course I have obliterated all memories of that time and can no longer speak of them.
My parents weren’t very strict either. They would always tell me they trusted me to make to correct decision. They totally brain washed me. So much so that, as a 28 year old women, I have never smoked pot. That’s not to say I never had the chance because lord knows I did. But, I never used it. Even my mom didn’t know her brain washing ablility because when she found out several years ago that I have never smoked she didn’t believe me. I had to call my brother in as witness to the fact.
I wish my mom had smoked pot–I was always envious of the kids that got it from mom’s underwear drawer.
Ah, I remember the sense of pride you’d get from taking a good 4:20 bong hit and not messing up by choking and hacking. But then again, you don’t get off unless you cough…
My parents were most definitely NOT hippies.
I remember when I was a freshman in high school, they were “cleaning out my closet” while I was out.
They found pot in my guitar. (I thought it was an awesome hiding place.)
I was in MUCHO shit. I still remember my Dad holding the bag with the pot in it. I nearly wet my pants.
I smoked it once and didn’t feel a damn thing. My husband on the other hand, was as high as a kite. I can still hear that fucking girlie giggle he had that night. It was a New Year’s Eve part at our house and my BIL had brought some stuff over. Their sister (about 20 at the time) was wondering what we were all doing in the garage, and they told her we were all checking the tire pressure. It’s a family joke to this day.
no hippie parents. i was a boring teenager. b-o-r-i-n-g. so boring, in fact, that coming out at age 28 to my mother pretty much rocked the universe. and getting a tattoo @ age 29 was a scandal. and dont get me started on the cartilage ear piercing i got a few years ago. well past age 30. and the ultimatum of “just do you dont pierce your nose or your tongue” then you can live here (living here for nursing school).
ahem.
after i getthehelloutofhere, first order of business is piercing my nose. i’ll be almost-40 and she will still look down in shame upon me.
the female parent in my life was raised on the “every goddamned blessed thing you do in your life is A REFLECTION ON YOUR MOTHER/PARENTING”
good times.
My last summer in the my hometown, I dated a long haired stoner musician who introduced me to the Weed.
I was unfortunately enough to have been introduced to Hash rather than pot and spent a VERY long night sitting in a kitchen watching the appliances wash in and out of the room and lying on the floor and staring at a ceiling fan.
To make matters worse, after a sleep and a drive home which I obviously shouldn’t have made even though it was only a mile and a half, it was painfully obvious that I was still higher than god and, in front of my parents, poured juice on the wrong side of a glass and buttered the counter next to my toast before excusing myself to go to bed.