LSD
Children's books are a gateway drug, or another paradigm shift.
I had never heard of 'The Little Prince', 'The Phantom Tollbooth', or 'James and the Giant Peach', among many other books, until I signed up for my Children’s Literature class at Santa Barbara High. It's unclear to me whether I simply didn't take notice of them or if I wasn't introduced to these types of books. I was a wayward, feral rabble-rouser, always looking for any adventure to get into trouble, from about 12 years old until I was 45.
I have fond memories of going to the local library as an elementary student and finding Choose Your Own Adventure books, as well as 'The Hobbit'. A childhood friend and I had a whole song about the Hobbit section of the public library; it was pretty funny. We would prance around downstairs in the kids section singing our little song to anyone that would listen. We would spend endless hours there. Reading was an escape for me; it would take me to new lands, introduce me to new characters, and adventures.
I have zero memories of my mother reading to me as a child. I find that very strange. Not one. I don’t even remember having a book in our apartment growing up. All my books were at my grandparents' place. My place for seeking solace, quiet, and predictability.
My grandmother would read me 'The Cat in the Hat Comes Back'; it was my favorite book. The Cat in the Hat was also a rabble-rouser, creating chaos and wacky fun wherever he went. I still have clear memories of my grandmother reading to me in my room at their place on 13th Street. I loved that story so much that the Cat in the Hat was my first tattoo when I turned eighteen. I still have that same book that my grandmother would read to me; it is the first print from 1958, originally it was my mother’s.
Alright enough, books are for nerds!! Let’s get to the drugs and LSD!!!!!!!!!!!
Let’s set the stage real quick. I had just moved to SB, didn’t know that many people. I was a white boy from WI in the late 80s. There was not a lot, if any, diversity in WI, from food to people. To this day, you can find an aisle at a grocery store with “oriental food”. I was a round peg; even in SB, I did not fit in. I had taken this Children’s Literature class for the sole reason that it sounded super easy; read kids' books, and I can hopefully at least get a C. My prior GPA while in Wisconsin was probably a 1.8.
I was very wrong. The teacher was very serious about the class, and we had to write a paper almost every week. I was a bit deflated, and the class clown in me started to come to life. The guy DS that sat across from me was a cool young Mexican surfer stoner kid. We hit it off pretty quick with my witty remarks and lack of enthusiasm for a class about kids' books that was taken as seriously as a math class. I would doodle weird trippy images on my note paper to pass the time.
As vivid as daylight, I recall the moment when we were reading 'The Little Prince,' and DS leaned over to me, asking if I liked LSD. At that point in my life, I had no idea what it was. I was accustomed to smoking low-quality weed, either ditch weed or some poor-quality stuff someone had stolen from their parents or bought from the local dealer in Baraboo. When I told him I had no idea what LSD was, his eyes lit up. "You are going to LOVE it!!" he exclaimed. He went on to explain that if I enjoyed art, music, and being outdoors, I would find it amazing; it would change the way I saw the world. He told me it was going to alter my entire perspective on life and open up new worlds to me—it was made for someone like me.
Holy shit, I was in. It sounded amazing.
“You want some?” asked DS with a new twinkle of excitement in his eye.
“Sure, how much?” I asked with a bit of not totally sold
“Dude, I’ll bring it tomorrow, it’s free, I have some extra and if it’s your first time.” DS was more exited than I was.
“Awesome, are you sure?” I asked questionably.
DS nodded in agreement as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. I am a bit of a research nerd and love going down rabbit holes. Back in those days, I would spend a lot of time in the magazine section of bookstores and the library (I even got a job at the SB library). We did not have the internet to quickly look up LSD. I’m not sure that would have changed my mind at all; it would have made it sound more intriguing. I went through my normal day and didn’t really give it much thought or have anyone to ask if it was a good idea to take LSD.
The next day in class, DS handed me a small piece of aluminum foil. I looked at it quizzically. “It’s inside,” DS informed me. I opened up the small square of foil to reveal an even smaller piece of paper. I shook my head and gave it back to him. “What the hell is this?” I had never seen any other drug besides weed. “It’s LSD, man. You put it on your tongue, and your body absorbs it,” he explained. That was the craziest, dumb shit I had heard. I did not believe a word he said. I grabbed the paper and put it on my tongue, not believing that anything would happen.
“You're crazy, dude, school is not a cool place to do it,” DS was a bit shocked.
“Whatever, it’s a piece of paper, what can happen?” I cockily responded.
DS laughed pretty hard and got the teacher's attention toward us. We both got back to reading. He told me to keep it on my tongue and that it should kick in when class was over. The bell rang.
"Have a good trip, dude. You’re crazy,” DS said as we parted ways for our next class.
I headed to my next class, which was my PE soccer class. I had played soccer for one summer in Wisconsin when I was a kid. This was not the same. Similar to the Children’s Lit class, this was serious. Myself and two other kids were the only white dudes in the class. I might as well have been a cone by the amount of participation and knowledge I had of how to play soccer; at least the cone has a sense of purpose.
WHOAAAAAA. It started to kick in as I was walking into the building. As I was going down the stairs to the dressing room, the world seemed to start to become very concave and creep in towards me, with a pinpoint of focus.
I stood in front of my locker, not quite sure what to do. The combination lock held mysteries and powers that I could not remember the numbers to reveal what was inside. I felt like I was standing there forever. Even the other guys in the locker room noticed. They were speaking in Spanish and started laughing. I looked over at them and felt as if I was watching a TV show. Everything looked so crisp. They said some more words to me that I could not understand, and I was hoping that subtitles would appear so I could understand what was happening.
One of the other white guys, MM, in the class, who I thought was about 25 years old (he looked a lot older), came over and asked if I was okay. I told him that I couldn’t remember my locker combination. He said I looked pretty fucked up, and I whispered to him that I had taken LSD. He started cracking up. He told me that I was fucking crazy and should just leave school. I was determined to remember my locker combination.
Once I got dressed and found my way out to the soccer field, the teacher was yelling at me to get my shit in gear and start running around the track. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I must have looked ridiculous. MM came up to me and told me that I should just leave. He had experience with LSD and this was no place to be trippy, especially in PE class. I told him I was super fucked up but wanted to at least make it to the end of class.
This is what I remember:
Standing in the middle of the field, the bright and beautiful California sun shining down onto the vivid grass. I could count every single blade of grass on the field. I was mesmerized. If I listened hard enough, I think I could hear the grass actually growing, pushing through the dark soil towards the healing energy of the sun. I wished that these damn subtitles would work because I cannot figure out what anyone is saying. I looked over at the opposite corner of the field where everyone was, a player kicked the ball aggressively to get it past the half-field mark where I was standing. In slow motion, I jumped up in the air, the ball smashed against my chest. I landed like an Aztec warrior, kicked the ball down the field, and shot for a goal.
"PINCHE GRINGO!!!!" Turns out I was going the wrong way. The teacher screamed at me, the Mexican guys all started laughing, MM came up and pulled me aside, and we sat in the bleachers to watch the rest of the game as I tripped balls. MM told the teacher that I was sick and not feeling well. The teacher already hated me. He was a classic stereotype PE teacher with his whistle, organized team sports mentality, and low self-esteem, wanting some authority in his life. Needless to say, we did not get along from day one.
MM walked me over to the locker room and told me to just leave, take the day off of school. It would be best for me.
I took his advice. After about 15 minutes, I remembered my locker combination, got dressed, and left the school grounds.
I’m going to stop here. That is a lot to take in. There is more to come in the next post. I will share what happen once I left the school grounds and traveled on a different plane then met my father for dinner. Let’s wrap it up and let you get on with your Sunday.
Thank you again for reading this far.
Love and Light, MM
EarHoles: This song has been in heavy rotation recently. It really FKN hits home. An amazing album. Give the whole thing a listen.
EyeHoles: This past week I read The Hobbit. After reading Ramayana I saw some parallels in the story line with this book and Star Wars. It also seems that with getting into this pipe smoking hobby, they all have a man crush on J.R Tolkien. Guess I will have to grow my beard back.
Holy Crap.