Hey Stashers, I’m going to try a new feature here at the Stash – the “Virtual Bowl” for the evening.
I’ve set up my schedule to write and record and post the Stash from 8am-6pm Pacific. After I post at 4:20pm, I listen to the Stash and unwind. I imagine a lot of you are doing the same. But since technology has yet to evolve to the point where we can put a nice bowl in Scotty’s transporter and beam it from Stasher to Stasher, I thought maybe we could all unwind together over a virtual bowl.
The idea is this: the new threaded comments feature allows us to reply directly to each other’s comments. It’s not in semi-real time like the Fresh Stash; instead, this would be more like the “open thread” posts I see on so many political-talk blogs, where we have a general topic, but it’s really just a chance to open up discussions.
In each evening’s Virtual Bowl, I will pack a budly nugget in the form of an open sentence. Tonight’s virgin green bowl is:
The first time I smoked pot…
…and you just go ahead and fill in the rest. You can start your own response all the way at the bottom of all the comments in the big white “Leave a Reply” box. Or you can reply directly to an existing response by clicking the blue “Reply” link below the comment.
I’m also doing this for selfish reasons. I’m beginning to write a book about the cannabis community and I want to mine these discussion threads for story and interview ideas. Don’t worry, I’ll never “out” a stoner with any identifying details (unless said stoner hypocritically acts in ways that threaten other stoners – a closeted legislator, cop, or judge who’s harassing us will be “outed”.)
I’ll even start. The first time I smoked pot…
…was on July 4, 1990. I was playing bass in a local hair-rock cover band called “Crossfire” in a resort hotel in McCall, Idaho, two hours north of Boise. We finished a rockin’ gig and those of us who didn’t snag any local girls (all of us but the lead singer, sadly) returned to our hotel room to chill.
It was then that one of the guitar players pulled out a joint, lit it, and passed it to me. Oh my god, I thought, DRUGS! I think I may have just passed it to the other guitarist, who passed it to the drummer, on to the roadie, back to the first guitar player, and in that time I had decided I was going to try it.
Three hours later after massive giggle fits, some inspired jamming, and a convenience store run, we crashed. I awoke the next morning feeling rested and well. No hangover. No bad breath. No mysterious injuries or marker on my face. That was DRUGS! Really? That’s what they’ve been telling me will turn my brain into a fried egg? For six years I’d been shotgunning beers and pounding double shots to try to relax and have fun. This was much better.
Unfortunately, the notion that I had been seriously lied to concerning DRUGS! did have an unfortunate unintended negative consequence, but I’ll save that for another Virtual Bowl.