In my freshman year of high school I wasn't thrilled about much, so when my only friend, Melody invited me to the Dairy Queen one Saturday evening I was "stoked".

Upon accepting her invitation, my first thought was 'what am I gonna wear', and ironically or pathetically, to this day it remains my first thought upon receiving any invitation to any where...... but I digress.

True to form, I spent too much time dressing but made it out the door on time to catch my ride. An old chopped down 57 Chevy, driven by Melody's friend. I joined her in the back seat and we were driven off into the sunset (about 2 miles down the road) to the DQ on Pacific Coast Highway in Redondo Beach.
Later we sat drinking our sodas in the lot behind DQ and someone in the front seat lit a joint and passed it back to Melody and I. We proceeded to smoke like the professionals that we were not, and the only thing I remember about that evening, is laughing so hard I wound up on the floor of the back seat. This began my brief love affair with marijuana, and I wasn't alone.

It was 1967-ish and the world was experimenting with the likes of marijuana, not to mention a host of other "drugs". It wasn't just us, it was kids from all walks of life, every neighborhood, and each socioeconomic pocket in the US and abroad.

I have a very clear memory of walking across the Redondo Union High School campus seeing groups of students sneak-smoking in small huddles off the beaten paths leading to the next row of class rooms. I'm guessing faculty thought they were smoking cigarettes, because nothing was ever done to stop the activity.

Of course I was never invited to join in on the fun and felt like a big out casted loser. I vowed that if I ever had the chance, I'd bring my own dooby to school, whip it out in front of all those ho-dads and puff away. I'd become an enigma and make them all wish they knew what made me tick! R I G H T!!!


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  2. I smoked it once, and it scared the poop out of me! I later found out it was laced with angel dust. I hid under a table, terrified to come out! I never touched it after that! That was 1972.

  3. Nope, I never touched the stuff, or any other drug either. Never drank too. I was the proverbial "nice guy". Which is why, I'm told years later, that the girls were never interested in me. My wife told me that back in her dating days, if she had a choice between the nice guy who was going to take her out for ice cream, and the bad boy who was going to take her out for beer and a good lay, it was an easy decision.

    I still love my ice cream.


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