A Smoking Bong report
by Carlton Milhouse
Boy did I have a fun summer! I have traveled, met new people and have sampled some great new strains. Some of these I would never have had the chance to try had it not been for being on the road. Way back in 1947-51, when Kerouac was on the road, that dude really got what it was all about. The Beat Generation understood and Kerouac, Ginsberg and Burroughs lived their lives complete against a backdrop of jazz, poetry and drug use. My own recent travels had less to do with jazz or poetry, though they do figure slightly in my tales. I too was on the road: for the green!
Early this summer I discovered a strain in Montana that was, honest to God, covered in a fuzzy, pink and purple hair. That fellow botanist is deep in research developing the best “non-paranoia” strain ever created. He’s getting close because after lighting off some of this bud I was left feeling pink and purple. And quite fuzzy. I hope to have some more details to share with all of you stoners as this research progresses!
About a month later I came across a delightful home-grown strain in Yellow Springs, Ohio that was the deepest green I had ever seen, through and through. It was a green so rich I offered the suggestion of including Emerald somewhere in it’s name. The high was great! And it already had a name: Pine Cones. I had to admit the name suited it as it truly did taste like breathing in a pine forest, the high was so light! I laughed and made jokes, wanted to break into dance.
And when I saw that particular woman walking down the road… Oh, I won’t forget her any time soon! Dark hair and eyes, caramel skin and when we made eye contact? Lady, you know who you are and if you should read this please contact me. When our eyes met, if only for that instant, I had to fight every urge I had to grab her and cart her off to the nearest field for a little afternoon delight. In the Ohio Valley you are never far from a field somewhere.
Well I could act like every other casual tourist and give you a blow by blow account of my summer road trip, but what I’d rather discuss is travel itself from the perspective of the herbal tourist. In my lifetime I have traveled to three different continents. Most of my early travels were made during my studies. It was then, during my college days, that I first discovered this magnificent herb that the gods have blessed us with. I found it grown on all three of those continents, among those few things that nearly every place has in common. The best green I have ever smoked was a strain from Phuket, Thailand (or somewhere near there). The worst? Some nasty, dry, brown scrub I obtained in a little town outside of Paris. Ugh! Choked the shit out of me, gave me an instant headache and a sorry buzz that only lasted about 20 minutes. Kind of like the Colorado weed you find common these days. It costs a lot and leaves you wishing it had never been legalized! Damned commercialization! But that’s another discussion…
Travel changes people. Different people in many, many different ways. One thing that most can agree on is that travel grows the mind. That is if you let yourself go with the experience. Ninety percent of my travel has been solo, which is a definite plus. I have personally witnessed families traveling together in places like Venice and London who were obviously unhappy, stressing out and fighting like they were making a trip to the local mall back home. These poor souls have not given themselves a chance to fully immerse themselves into the experience.
Whether your travel is just stateside, like Kerouac, or put on your big boy pants and explore outside of the US, you have to give yourself to it. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Don’t complain about the monkeys carrying on outside your room when you’re in Cambodia. Ask yourself, when am I ever going to have to worry about monkeys outside my window again?
And stoners? We are worldwide. We don’t look the same everywhere you go. You won’t find any tie-dyes or ponytails from the locals while relaxing in the Canary Islands, but the discerning stoner will find “that guy” (or gal, with any luck) who can hook you up. Like that red and golden bud that made me buzz all over, the one I obtained from that lovely dark brown girl who wanted to sing me Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door. In my travels I have learned that it is not only weed, but apparently Bob Dylan too, that is universal in it’s reach.
The similarities between all people seems to be nearly as many and as amazing as all of our differences. And we all have something we can learn from each other. I spent a summer in Trieste, Italy, where I left my job bussing tables at two in the afternoon (along with the rest of the staff) to go and have a siesta for two hours before dinner service. I like that way of life. Rarely did I rest, though. During that period I had found a luscious, young Italian mother with cleavage to die for. The strain she sold was as rich, dark and decadent as her rich, full bosom. Many were those siestas that we spent smoking the rich, dark herb while she rode on top of me. Yeah, I really liked that way of life! But I digress…
So get out there now! I mean it, a personal note to my fellow stoners. For just a little while anyhow, put down that remote, put the bong in the sink to be cleaned and grab a few bags of Lays from the cupboard. It’s time to travel. Don’t worry about our little green friend: you’ll find it anywhere if you look. Maybe you don’t want to travel with your stash, depending on your mode of travel of course, but don’t let that stop you from adventure. Go on. Go. Get outta here! I’m serious!
This is Carlton your Botanist. Until next time….keep it niiiiiiiice!