Getting the Wind

"Pick it, pack it, fire it up, come along and take hits from the bong. Put the blunt down just for a second. Don't get me wrong it's not a new method. Inhale, Exhale - just got a ounce in the mail" Cypress Hill from "Hits From The Bong"

As the nurse came in for my morning pharming expedition she sneezed. Customarily I would intone a blessing upon her, but I didn't want to waste any of my good kharma with the G man on her. I guess it was rude of me, bad manners and all. SuperMom taught my siblings and I to be the perfect picture of well adjusted normals in public, but at home the real heathen side came out. I don't know quite how she achieved this since when I look around today kids are about as well mannered as sports fans in Philadelphia (ask someone who likes sports if you don't understand). And then there are other issues of proper etiquette that often come to my attention.

People are constantly coming up to me on the street and saying "Hey Mike, when I'm in the "Circle of Chinese Eyes" what's the proper etiquette?" Okay, so it doesn't happen all that often, but as a once proud consumer of "the Chronic" I have a few things to say on the manners associated with marijuana.

What to call it. Weed, pot, Mary Jane, Cheeba, Aunt Mary, wacky tobaccy, reefer, Goofy stick, loco weed, the Yellow Submarine, call it whatever the hell you want, there are more names for "Acapulco Gold" than there are for God. Which is why some think of "Mowing the Grass" as a religious experience. I've never smoked a blunt and seen Jesus, but then I don't usually toke with people of Hispanic heritage.

Which way to pass. Left or right. If your biggest problem is not knowing which person to hand the spliff to, then I guess you're doing better than the rest of us. For my part, I like being in a "Ring of Fire" that has a joint going one way and a bong load going the other. It keeps those involved in the moment and doesn't allow for the dreaded "babysitter", you know that person that holds onto the "pocket rocket" as if they are trying to get high through osmosis of the fingertips. Puff, puff, give. That's all one needs to know in a "Tour de Fatty".

When to say when. When "Burning the Broccoli" there are those among us that inhale at an alarming rate. A quick rule of the thumb is to "bomb the bud" until one starts to get the "tingle of the mingle". As it does take "the Assassin of Youth" a while to come to full effect, some smoke into a place we like to call "coma". That's when they can no longer move their limbs without intense thought and have a hard time staying awake. Nothing worse than sleeping off a "bake sale". Smoking with people that are of the same tolerance level as yourself is a key component. Novice and "brown frown" smokers who are firing up some "kind bud" need be cautious.

When is the best time to blaze. The myth of 4:20 states that at that particular moment in each day, it's the best time to have some "laughing leaf". Truth be told if you're a "wake and bake" specialist who puffs just as your eyes open, a Price is Right fan who waits until just before noon, the "All My Cheeba" afternoon specialist, the "Drive Time Doobie" traffic toker, or the "Nighttime is Righttime" kind of person there is no prescribed time of day when the "Green Goddess" is gonna get you any more "Squirrel eyed".

Should I smoke out the dealer. A common misconception is that the guy selling you the "Northern Lights" is just rolling in bags of "Kush". Does a car salesman have extra cars sitting around in his driveway? It's just common courtesy to ask. There are times when you, yourself aren't ready to hit that "nickel bag". In times like this explain that you would, but whatever it is that you are about to do requires that you be "straight", most likely going to court or work, and that next time you will "fire up a bowl of cereal" for your guy. And do always call him "My guy". Male or female, doesn't matter, when it comes to the "purveyor of potent smokables" no one wants to be referred to as a dealer. Those people are slimy. My guy is a facilitator.

As more questions come to me I will try to answer them, but I gotta be honest, I'm a few brain cells short of Stephen Hawking at this point, so I may not remember.

Questions? Comments? Queries?

Dixie Cup of Love: Nancy Botwins of the World.