"We Have To Make These."

The title is reference to a fuzzy afternoon in Augusta, KS. in May of 1987, on Custer Lane, in [Name Redacted]'s barn. A group of young people, were stoned to the beejuzus, laughing to tears at his blind cat ("Meow?" - Yes, you could hear the question mark.). We had just discovered a box of microwaveable pancakes.

Marijuana. Cannabis. Weed. Dope... and myriad monikers that would only show whenabouts I stopped keeping track of that shit.

The first question is... How in the name of fuck is this stuff not legal??? I mean just look to the disasters in Colorado, Oregon, and Washington - STATE AND D.C..... Wait... What? They are doing fan-bloody-tastic after legalizing??? Hmmmmmmm.

The biggest argument by stupid people, who only believe what authority figures planted in their heads when they were younger, is that marijuana is a "Gateway Drug".

I will go so far as to cede that by smoking weed, you are probably more likely to come into contact with people who also procure and distribute other illegal substances. That is about it. If your kid is going to do "Drug Next Step", it is because a friend had some, knew your kid had some money, offered them some in order to get them hooked, so they will spend money on "Drug Next Step" and share with them.

The case for marijuana being a gateway drug is the same as when politicians tried to stop equal rights by asking what was after legalizing same sex marriage. "If we allow that... what's next? Will we allow people to marry their pets?" Same sex marriage was a "Gateway Marriage".

The first recorded usage of cannabis was by the Synthians in 440 BC. They would use it in their baths, like a sauna... The ORIGINAL Hot Boxers*!

The word canvas... derived from cannabis. The sails on all the ships that brought everyone's ancestors to America? Yup... Hemp.

Hemp was huge... and was going to get even more prolific. Then came the war between agriculture and industry... And if memory serves, we don't learn about he "Agricultural Revolution" in school.

Easiest way to win a war? Outlaw the thing you are warring against. Just make it illegal. Spend money making propaganda films. Films that portray anyone who uses the stuff as a deviant, perverted sort who wants to barbecue babies because they are stoned!

I have known some pretty stoned individuals, and not once was BBQ'd infant discussed. BBQ Pringles however? Devoured in droves.

All that manipulation and distortion of the facts led to the War on Drugs. Nancy Reagan telling everyone to "Just Say No." Which led Ronald Reagan to question, "To What? Who are you? What is my name?" (Too soon?)

Granted, at the time (the early and mid 80's), c0ocaine was rampant. Mostly on Wall Street... and Motley Crue. Of course, the feds, in their infinite wisdom, decided to war against ALL drugs. *Spoiler Alert* The U.S. lost this war. In fact... Many people believe that the CIA was responsible for flooding inner city neighborhoods with crack cocaine... So...

By focusing on, and apparently supporting, the supply, they did absolutely fuck all to squash the demand side of the equation.

"Gee, we have done nothing to improve living conditions, bolster employment opportunities, lessen the rising cost of living... Why would all these people look to something to make life a little more pleasurable without breaking the bank, with no real addictive side effects??? WHY????"

Incarceration rates for non violent offenses skyrocketed, which made the true deviants come up with the Prisons For Profit scheme.

Also, if you could make it a felony, and target minorities... They can't vote! Double points!

The enemy for the legalization of cannabis these days is a two headed snake of the Federal Government and Big Pharma.

The government, namely the Republicans, will not legalize it because then the prison profits will go to shit... More minorities will retain the right to vote... Can't have that!

Here is one good thing about the government speed bump... The "50's guy" Politician... Those who grew up in "Leave It To Beaver" land... They are a dying breed. There will be changes when people who grew up a little later get elected. I say that with hope... but not certainty.

Big Pharma does NOT want weed to become legal. It would cut into their BILLIONS of dollars of yearly profits... and sweet Jeebus... How can you ask them to only get by on a couple of BILLION dollars less??? You selfish prick!

In August, the DEA denied the reclassification of Cannabis. It remains a Schedule I drug. Schedule I drugs have NO MEDICAL USE and high potential for abuse.

Mmmkay, Pum'kin... Let's play that lame ass card... Considering that Ritalin, Adderall, OXY-FUCKING-CODONE , and Fentanyl (the one that killed Prince) are Schedule II... Those are primarily manufactured by six pharmaceutical companies, whose net worth is in the trillions.

How much does the DEA cost these days? Do you have to buy just the director? Couple of politicians to boot? Do you get a discount if you buy in bulk? When elections come up, do you compare prices? Whoever comes in with the lowest bribe amount, do you contribute to their campaign?

The benefits of hemp... WAAAAAAAY too many to list here. Seriously, Google that shit. More specifically... Google "Benefits of industrial hemp". There are literally millions of hits off that search. In two seconds, I learned that in 1938, Popular Mechanics magazine called hemp, "The Billion Dollar Crop."

Which made the other robber barons of the time clench their collective sphincters... Hence the propaganda... and inevitable, unwinnable war.

Second huge benefit of marijuana use... All the really good music.,. Thanks, Drugs!

_______________________________________

The last time I was stoned, was 1993. I remember it fondly. I remember the smallest details of that night. I remember laughing to the point of tears... It was a good night... The last song that I smoked to was Pink Floyd's "Run Like Hell". 

I have a lot of friends who partake. I am jealous as hell. They are completely functioning humans who get to enjoy the extra benefits of mother nature... Although, while usually running a little late because they forgot something... They tend not to "rush"... And I think they are a lot happier for that fact. 

I miss it. It is about 5:20 PM. In about 90 minutes, I will pour myself a Lemmy (Jack & Coke, renamed in his honor). I will have more than one, less than five. I will be in a state of inebriation that is perfectly legal. Also, I will be taxing my liver, kidneys, and heart. Cokes are not healthy for you. Jack, while being my hetero life mate, is not the healthiest for you either.

If given the option, I would get high. I would reach a nice calm, tranquil state of mind. I would sleep better. I would not be in any way hungover in the morning. I would have not felt the need to make any rash decisions. I might crave some Doritos... watch "30 Rock"... Listen to some vinyl... Just chill.

Rainy Day Woman 12 & 35,

d 

This blog brought to you by Wolfmother, Tesla, Jimi Hendrix Experience, Daft Punk, The Doobie Brothers (It's in their damn name! C'MON!), Deftones, Slipknot, Iggy & The Stooges, Led Zeppelin, The Who, Stone Temple Pilots, Nirvana, David Bowie, Tool, Anthrax, The Blues Brothers, The Kinks, Prince & The Revolution, Lords of Acid, Metallica, and Pink Floyd.

* - Hot Boxing is smoking a shit tonne of weed in an enclosed area... Think Spicoli's van, in "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" and they open the doors and a massive cloud billows forth...

Hemingway, or "What's In A Name?"

Ernie once said, "Write drunk, edit sober."

Giving that a whirl.

First and foremost, I am not "drunk". Would I like to operate a motor vehicle at the moment? Not really... So... Here I am... On a Sat. night, with an empty bottle of mead... Eyeballin' the Jack Daniels...

Anywhoozle... I was scrolling through the ol' Facebook, wasting time until I can go to sleep. Which, in and of itself, makes me start to want to kick my own ass. It is Saturday. I should do something. Be out until the wee hours of the morning, raising Hell. I have no one to answer to... No commitments... Aaaaaaand no desire to waste money. So, here I am.

I succumb to the click-bait of a 12 year old contestant on a talent show. One of the plethora that television is inundated with these days.

I suffer through the cheese reel preceding the performance. She starts to sing. The timidity in her voice, coupled with her accented delivery... Quite intriguing. Then there are the lyrics. THEY are responsible for the lump in the throat. They are the perpetrator of my teary eyes.

I don't know my name.

I don't play by the rules of the game.

So you said I'm just trying.

Just trying.

Fuck. I remember being that age. The one thing that resonates from that age is the unrelenting uncertainty. It is the crucible time... Where YOU... THE YOU THAT YOU WILL BE... is thrust into a furnace of hormones, NAY - RAGING hormones, growth - both physically and emotionally, experiences undreamt of (autocorrect says that should be 'undreamed', but 'undreamt' sounds fucking better!), and trials and tribulations that are yours and YOURS ALONE! They are what make you YOU.

At that age, the "rules of the game" are introduced... Subject to change - from moment to moment... Your head is a fucking jumble of 1) What you are supposed to know, 2) What you THINK you know (which is estimated waaaaaaaaaay high), and 3) What you WANT to know. 

A friend's father, one Jack Thomas, once told me and his offspring, "I wish I could buy you for what you are worth... And sell you for what you THINK you are worth. You two think you are hot shit on a silver platter, and you ain't nothing but cold snot on a paper plate."

Father of the Year, he wasn't. But he did have a point.

That last two lines of the lyrics... Just trying... For fuck's sake... "Just trying" never stops. Yes, as an alpha geek, I understand and do my best to adhere to the Yoda-ism, "Do or Do Not, There is No Try." However, I ain't no Jedi.

Hopefully as you get older, sometimes wiser, you see a shift in the whole "trying vs. doing". You learn and grow... But as a youngling... There is a whole mess of "trying" going on.

The next lyrics of note from this TWELVE YEAR OLD...

I am lost.

Trying to get found.

In an ocean of people.

Please don't ask me any questions.

There won't be a valid answer.

Fuck. When you were twelve or thirteen, if you never felt lost... Well, bully for you. You are the exception. "What's my place?" "What am I supposed to be?" "WHO am I supposed to be?" Fun fact... That sorta "un-anchored" feeling... It rears up now and again.  

She fucking nails it with the last two lines. Go ahead... ask away...

My 7th grade guidance counselor asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. My reply, of course, was "Viking." She then asked what my parents thought of my desired vocation. I told her, "They are aliens, so... They are not concerned."

When I was at that so impressionable age, pop culture kinda had a "It Get's Better" movement for kids, gay and straight.

What we had was Happy Harry Hard On...

If you watched to the end of the clip, kudos... One of the better messages from the movie was towards the end... (After Samantha Mathis, in her prime, gets topless)... And I quoteth...

"But just remember one thing, it can't get any worse, it can only get better. I mean High School is the bottom. Being a teenager sucks! But that's the point, surviving it is the whole point! Quitting is not going to make you strong, living will. So just hang on and hang in there." - HHH.

And that leads me to the last lyrics from one Grace VanderWaal, from the song "I Don't Know My Name".

I now know my name.

I don't play by the rules of the game.

So you said I'm not trying.

But I'm trying.

To find my way.

Jeeeeeez this kid's got some insight. NIAGRA FUCKING FALLS in this joint! 

I think it was in my seventeenth circuit around our star that I REALLY introduced myself to someone... and meant it. It was in a hallway on the second story of the B-1 Bomber simulator building on McConnell AFB, Wichita KS.

I was visiting my Dad. He had to run some paper work upstairs. I followed and waited in the hallway. A Captain, if memory serves, came out of the door Dad just entered and saw little ol' me. Back from my graduation tour of California. Sporting a mohawk mullet configuration... cut up denim shorts... and tank top, representing the "Viper" roller coaster from Six Flags Magic Mountain.

He justifiably wanted to know "Who the hell are you?"

I remember KNOWING the answer as I stuck out my hand and introduced myself.

I knew my name.

______________________________

Again, the last two lines... They are universal. We are all just trying to find our way. The world is rife with people doing just that. The problems usually arise when you to find someone else's way for them, or they try to tell you yours.

I know the power in a name. And yes, there is power in a name. The power can be a form of control... Ancient priests believed if you knew a demon's TRUE name upon summoning, you could control said beast from the Abyss, and make it answer your questions, and do your bidding.

If you do NOT believe in the power of a name... Close your eyes... Will make this next part difficult to read, but you GET THE POINT... Do you remember that person you saw in passing, but never got to talk to, that just knocked you for a loop and stole your very breath? It could have been for the briefest of moments from your youth... But the vision of them... That moment, that glimpse, is so very seared... So...  fucking part of you... Envision THAT person for me...

Now... wouldn't you like to know their name?

Talk hard,

d

This blog brought to you by Dig, KISS, Ozzy Osbourne, Heart, Dante & Randall, Johnny Cash, Anthrax, Ray charles, The Beatles, Weezer, The Rolling Stones, Korn, Don McLean, Foo Fighters, The Black Crowes, Queen, Toadies,  and Barry Fuckin' White.

(Forgot the 'Edit Sober' part! Cheers!)

The Day After

Wednesday, September 12th, 2001...

Boxers will say, right after a fight, that they weren't hurt. Their opponent never got to them or caused them any distress. At that moment, they are in a state of shock. A day later though...

You may never have boxed a day in your life, but when you woke up on the day after, you felt like you had gone into the deep rounds. You felt punched. You felt wounded. You felt beat.

There was no precedent of how to react... No rule book...  It was just under six decades since we had been "attacked".

On that morning after... I was told not to come into work in Dallas. My now second ex wife was told to not to come into work in a skyscraper in downtown Dallas. Her parents were staying with us in Cedar Hill, TX. We watched the news. That is what we all did. Every station - EVERY STATION - was news.

I would go outside to smoke and was unnerved by the silent skies. Devoid of air traffic.

Yesterday, I watched a tribute before turning off the TV. There were fly overs at the majority of football games. I saw our President speak to the unifying nature of the tragedy.

Unity... in this country? It took the deaths of 2996 people to "unite" us.

How long did it last? Four years? Two years?

I no longer scoff when I hear a mouth breather grunt, "Murica!" Because the title "United States Of America" is not an entirely true title. People will point fingers and say This or That person has polarized us. I think the polarization started on September 12, 2001.

My personal opinion is Cheney's dick got so hard, at the prospect of snatching oil and construction contracts for Haliburton, he had to be careful not to blow out his "heart", or reasonable facsimile of what we humans call a heart, that pumps his unholy blood.

Cooler heads voted against the inevitable calls for war... Namely our current President, and a one time candidate who would have been an even stronger nominee than whatshername...

I think to all the speeches from President Retarded Cowboy, aka War Criminal. Every year, he would mention the tragedy. Every year, he would state why we spending billions in a war with a country, later to shown to have NOTHING to do with 9/11...

I also remember thinking, this is why I don't want a religious president. They put stock in make believe bullshit, as long as it makes them right, and justifies their belief in the bullshit.

People will always remember 9/11/2001. Politicians have made careers out of it. I remember a crispness in the morning air. A bagel from the Tom Thumb on Northwest Highway. Howard Stern doing what I thought was a radio bit...

And going into an empty office... Then finding everyone huddled around a TV in the conference room. It took about an hour for them to send us home.

It was a terrible, terrible day. I think it hurt more on the 12th, because we realized it wasn't a nightmare we could wake up from.

_______________________

9/11, for incoming high school Freshman is a history lesson. It happened before a lot of them were born. They have grown up not knowing of a world where that did not happen.

They also only know of an America perpetually at war. They have grown up being told that a good portion of the world hates us.

Fifteen years, and the shadow of that day still looms. We were altered that day. Forever.

Oh... and here is a site that lists all the members of Congress who voted AGAINST the First Responders or "Zadroga" Bill. Just a little something to help you vote this November.

The music wouldn't play,

d

Contemplation of a Possibilty

So, I find the place... One bar seems to blend into another after a while. Did it have tables? Check? A long horizontal plane in which one can sit and order drinks? Check. A bar...

I find a table, and am just settling in and she walks in. If I were a weaker man, I would be leveled. We go through the awkwardness of handshake vs. hug... 

When we are both seated, it begins... The small talk. I am amazed, and captivated by the ease of it. It does not seem forced. It also does not seem rote or old hat. The waitress takes our orders, and I am so enthralled with the woman sitting across from me, I could not tell you if the waitress had a third breast on her forehead.

Her face... it is an amalgamation of features that I have find attractive. It is as if her eyes change colors with her smile, or a furrowed brow.

Normally, if I am this attracted to a date, I find it slightly difficult to focus on the topics of conversation. Not this night, however. I am hanging on her every word. I am also taken aback by the fact that I am not just waiting for my turn to talk, but actually listening to her.

I have been known to nervously blather on, during an initial date... But I am totally at ease... Comfortable. I remark to her about this fact, and she agrees. We are now aware of the ease at which we converse. While acknowledging an ease like that can make it evaporate just as quickly... it doesn't tonight... It increases it... 

In the first five minutes, she broke the "fuck" barrier. I always let the lady curse first... That way I know whether or not she is offended by such language... I appreciate her not making me wait too fucking long.

In the course of discourse, one of us makes a joke... Something witty and clever, that the other one then plays off of... Before we know it, we have our own little private joke, that we both know will be a favorite story of ours - in our possible future.

The atmosphere is perfect, the background noise is a droning hustle and bustle one associates with a bar. There is music... We each, at different moments, pick the song out of the air and comment on the story behind our adoration of it.

I am not upset when we get into a rather heated debate... I forget the topic... I just know that I am not angry or mad that she "challenges" my thinking on it... I am forced to reevaluate my position. Normally, if I am challenged, the person is just a colossal fucktard, and I move on. Nope... She has made a solid argument, and I must admit to her having an actual point. Shit.

As the second round of drinks magically appear, I can't help but feel the liquid courage doing it's job. The conversation becomes charged with innuendo. I get a smile from her that would make Satan himself say "I need to learn how to smile like THAT..."

We both want and don't want to lead the conversation down that path. We both get the feeling that this is the beginning of something, not "special", but "more"... and now comes the "don't jinx it" by talking about this or that... A little wink wink nudge nudge...

She gets up to use the ladies room, and I am more than happy to watch as she walks away. As the artist Robert Williams once said, "A woman's ass is more beautiful than the Orion Nebula..." Well, here's me - sans telescope, but I am a believer, and share that opinion.

She comes back, and sits down... I feel a little out of sorts... Two drinks? Really? Why am I having trouble concentrating?

She sits down, looks me directly in eyes, and says, "I could feel your eyes on me a*meh*s I walked away. I just wanted you to *meh meh* that I really d*meh meh meh*idn't mind... Do you want to go back to your pl*meh meh meh meh meh*"

This is when I realize my alarm is going off and I wake up...

_______________________________________

I ran this idea by my editor in chief, previewer of content, also known as "Mom"... She warned me not to make it too specific as it could scare off any potential dates... 

I informed her that I would most definitely include the clause stating that while this is a "dream scenario", I am well aware that there would be no side of the table providing "perfection".

A first date is awkward. A first date is akin to a job interview... You dread it, but it is never as bad as you think it will be, and you usually come away knowing one way or the other how you did. You also go over every question and answer... Trying to see where you might have opened ass, inserted head.

Funny story... In the middle of writing this blog... I received a phone call and after some brilliant conversation (1 hour, 42 minutes worth), I actually have a date... I realize that this person has a choice of what she wants to do with her free time, and she has chosen it to spend some of it with me. That is pretty cool, and I AM contemplating a myriad of possibilities. Universe got jokes, yo.

But I'm gonna wave my freak flag high, high,

d

This blog brought to you by Filter, Down, Stereophonics, Tool, Jimi Hendrix Experience*, 1000 Homo DJs, Iron Butterfly, Nirvana, The Beatles, Marilyn Manson, and The Foo Fighters.

* The asterisk will denote which artist lyrically provided the send off line...

To Cap Again

This is not a lengthy blog... I was actually going to skip this week, being a holiday and all...

But here's a quick recap (now re-read the title)... of things...

Colin Kapernick can do whatever the fuck he wants. My only piece of advice would be "Don't lose."

Trump has never stopped being a piece of shit. Our fairly elected President said it best, "I know plenty of business men and women who've achieved success without leaving a trail of lawsuits, and unpaid workers, and people feeling like they got cheated... Does anyone really believe that a guy who's spent his 70 years on this Earth showing no regard for working people is suddenly going to be your champion?"

Going to miss that guy!

I tried to go see "Blazing Saddles" on Saturday night. Got to the AMC Mesquite 30 for the 7:30 showing. The show was sold out. I was not even upset. I was glad to know Gene Wilder was still putting asses in seats.

Being "clipped in" to the bicycle pedals is neat. Remembering to "clip out" to avoid road rashing your leg to a bloody mess would be even neater! Ow. Very Ow. For the record, I did make it 10.94 out of 10.94 miles before massacring my leg!

I got an Xbox One last week. Probably the overriding reason why I think this week's entry was slightly postponed. I got to run around as Darth Vader and force choke bitches! "I find your lack of faith disturbing... and yours... and you... over there... yup... Disturbing!"

A huge milestone is happening on the 6th. A FOUR YEAR long black cloud is going to come to a head or dissipate altogether... Just good to see some action taking place with it.

This Wednesday, Sept. 7th, I will be catching the mighty Black Sabbath in their "final" tour. I got the tickets last year. Ozzy just needs to make it less than 70 hours... C'mon!!!

Lily, the damn dog, is good... Still loves my pancakes.

Folks are good... Mom is glad I got an XBox... figures I will now get a girlfriend who won't want me to play it... but I had to have it so I could get a girlfriend who.... See?

Anyways... I promise next weeks blog will be the normal bluster with catchy title, and sign off line will be a song lyric.

Looking for the answer in her eyes,

d

Eddie (Ex Delivery Man), The Stooges, Toadies, Wolfmother, 10CC, and Foo Fighters (DeadMau5 mix!)

.