Saturday, July 28, 2012

For what it's Worth







It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. 
It was the age of my wisdom, it was the age of my folly. 
It was my season of light, and I had descended into the depths of despair. 
It was 1973 in Texas and it was the age of hallucinogens.  
My father wasn't six months gone and I really didn't know where to start.
So I shoved those thoughts back deep on a shelf, in a dark corner, in some abyss of my mind.
My friends and I would drive to the border of Louisiana armed with trash bags and beer. And we would pick psilocybin mushrooms out of piles of reeking cow shit. We'ed choke down some of these gag inducing 'shrooms on the drive back and then boiled the rest to make an even more gag inducing tea. 
A shot glass would put some one in a transcendental state that can not be achieved with years of meditation. 
There was a lake we all went to hang out. And we would give shroom tea to people for free. Before long there would be a hundred or more trippin hippies all communing with nature.
The law and order sticklers amongst us will shake their heads. Theirs is a world of rules and unquestioning application of regulations; all applied to maintain the peace and dignity of the state. 
But these were the times of the fast and loose. Had we been caught, we would have been in as much trouble then as we would now.  But our ideology was born from an altruism that has gone missing in today's world.  
If you were not there, you won't understand. And I feel sorry for you missing it. 
You have either tripped or you haven't.
What lies within this experience can not be conveyed to those that have not. 
The cliche is that it open's doors that are never closed again.
It's all that and more.
As much as humanly possible, I think it allowed me to put all the garbage from my father and the barbarian into a nice paisley box, all wrapped in a kaleidoscope bow, and kick that box overboard and have it drift down like sludge to the Marianas Trench.







11 comments:

Tundra Woman said...

Hard to believe it's been 40-some years since those days. Thanks for that little trip down memory lane. Think you'd wanna do 'em again? (I don't think my body could stand that one more time.)
Yeah, there was so much "peace and dignity" the cities were burning down and students were being shot on college campuses for protesting a war-that-wasn't. But hey, what's a few students when 58+thousand young bodies were "coming home" in caskets and so many others, missing a few "parts."
And we're doin' it again. But no one seems to notice.
TW

Calibans Sister said...

Hey guys, I was still a little kid during the sixties but remember it was going on out there. My parents were conservative and living the fifties model--NF the man in the grey flannel suit, my mother trying to be Donna Reed's infernal twin (with a MN core). My mother did like the Beatles, but heck, her mother liked the Beatles. I never did 'shrooms, was too scared. Never did anything major. I think I was frightened by what I felt was in my unconscious. I felt shadowed by something that I didn't understand (what scared me about the dark). I know now I was desperately afraid of being alone, since my parents had abandoned me emotionally. I was afraid that any "trip" I took would be a bad one. It would be interesting to try now, but I don't want to mess with the law trying to do it. I'll stick to Chardonay (come-on Q, bring it, kick me, I deserve it!) ;-)

q1605 said...

Yeah TW. Cutting them down like so much wheat. But's it's to bring Saddam and Bin Laden to justice. Weapons of mass destruction. No it's about oil. OK GW wants to line the pockets of his buddies. We have to stabilize the middle east.
The best we can do is I don't support the war, but I support the troops.
Hear about little Johnie from down the street. Just took one from an IED. Man one day these kids are kids and the next they are grown.
Yes my lord. you can't keep up with them, they just blow up so fast.

CS. I never thought about the crap on my mind until after. I was the last person that should have been doing that stuff. But all my friends were jumping off buildings so I thought I might as well too.
Now it's a six pack of the Mike's Hard Lime-ade on Friday night and I'm good.

Tundra Woman said...

I don't want to turn this Post into a political discussion, but just an observation: George Dubya could have had ANYTHING he wanted from the American people (and likely the rest of the world) post 9-11. Instead we were told to "go shopping."
So instead of issuing War Bonds or something along those lines, we now have untold millions dead-or the walking dead-and a huge economic cost to our kids and grandkids. And the rest of the Globe isn't too happy with the US either.
Not hard to figure out why that might be....
TW

q1605 said...

Could it be the man born with a silver foot in his mouth.

q1605 said...

I can change the you-tube clip in a matter of about a minute.
It can be an old fart looking back down memory lane. It can be a political discussion.
It can be both. It can be neither.
But wait now how much would you pay.
Send Q three payments of 14.99 and a dollar 2.98 for postage and handling and he'll quit posting his shit all together.

Calibans Sister said...

What, Dubya? That's prince of a man? WMD? What WMD? And now they're wheeling Cheney back into the political arena to comment? Do not get me started. W.
W. A Dubya of Mass Destruction.

q1605 said...

It's makes me think of The Who's won't get fooled again.
Meet the new boss.
Same as the old boss.
Buddy we took it hook line and sinker. The age group that is supposed to be movers and shakers are as entrenched in the system as any other.
Well they say. My mother's friend's son got his ass blown off in banannastahn. So I expressed by dissent over a cafe mocha lapochino at Starbucks by tweeting
my outrage.
That and mocked Lady Gaga's really skewed sense of fashion.
I mean really. She wears human size plastic eggshells with pumps?

vicariousrising said...

My life is so much better without my parents. I'm not sorry I've gone NC. I've been wondering, since my last remaining grandparent is pushing 92, whether I even want to go to the funeral. I kind of hate the idea of it being sparsely attended as most people my grandparents knew ate gone already & my parents have no friends. But then, I think how much harm it potentially holds for me to go, the inevitable setback no matter how hard I prepare myself.

My parents take vital things from me whenever I'm in their presence. There is not simply NOTHING there, they actively do me harm. I don't know why I should feel I need to justify protecting myself.

q1605 said...

If you are no contact with prejudice you may not know when they pass.
I doubt if I hear when my mother bites it. But who cares.
If my grandmother were still alive I would find a way to maintain a relationship.
I haven't read it yet but Jonsi's headline is up about don't let people who don't love you keep you from the ones you love.
Not exact but close enough.

Bess said...

I know someone who says shrooms have created wonderful experiences for her when they were done with people she trusted in a serene environment. I'm fascinated by this, but I would be scared as hell to try it given some of the memories I have. Some of my dreams are what I fancy a bad trip would be like, less a little somethin-somethin.