“If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.” Bob Marley
I do not smoke weed. I don’t smoke pot, marijuana, ganja, Jesus grass, Mary Jane, pacalolo, Maui Wowie, Indo, Outdo, dank, sticky icky, oo-wee, kush, reefer, gas, loud, fire, kill, trees, none of it. Let me get that clear FIRST. But you might think I do because I am very happy, laugh a lot, am kinda clumsy, a bit goofy, eat a lot of frequent meals, and am a kind and loving soul. These are the stereotypical qualities of a weed smoker. Or a really awesome lady (wink).
Let me give you a little history: the story goes that some Bay Area Kids who called themselves the Waldos (because they hung out near a wall every day and got high) created 4.20 (the internationally recognized day, as well as time of day, for pot-smokers to fire up) when they heard about a stash of the ganja growing in Point Reyes. They decided to hunt for this treasure trove of earth’s bounty. They began their search every day at 4:20 (presumably after they got out of school). They would blaze one and then go look for this lost crop of the Gods. This was in the ’70s. Fact or fiction? I don’t know, I am a storyteller and this is a story.
Today for my First I decided to celebrate 4.20 completely un-high, but I did some of the things that I think a marijuana smoker would do – just for laughs. For starters, I went on a hike in the mountains where I definitely saw several high “highkers”. I trekked for about an hour. Everyone was so happy on that trail! When I got home I enjoyed a dinner of nachos and Oreos while listening to Bob Marley. My nachos didn’t come from the gas station, though, so this may disqualify me from having a true stoner munchies meal. After dinner I watched Japanese anime and practiced karate in the front yard. Feeling pretty burnt out, I’m ready to turn in for the night and it’s still daylight. #420