How an outrageous high school party turned into Paul’s first time blazing.
Where I grew up, alcohol was introduced before weed. I remember being 14, a freshman in high
school, looking up to my older brother. There was really nothing else besides my friends from
my condo. All my other friendships came and went based on juvenile bragging rights. Growing
up searching for purpose. Trying to fit in where I didn’t belong. I think that’s why a lot of people
find the community. We don’t realize that our sense of want is clouded by our sense of purpose
and service.
My first year of high school was right after my brother’s team won the first state football title in
years. The keg party was week one. But I would be surprised to learn that the way home
cruise was where the real team formed. A couple of misfit friends from my brother’s childhood
skateboard crew. They definitely got into the party based on Sam’s recognition. That’s how it
felt at these pre-alcoholism gatherings, based on who or what was cool at the moment. But
when we cruised out of there, that’s when I remember laughing, smiling and of course…Bumping Wu-Tang…
Adrenaline running through us from the booze, I remember my brother’s friend Kyle stuck his
head out the window with a holler. He soon realized the blunt had fallen from his ear. Needless
to say we were all devastated. We scoured the suburban streets trying to find the one beacon
of normalcy from the night. A session to gather and laugh and forget the chaos of kids jumping
fully clothed into hot tubs and girls dancing on tabletops. As Nas’s Illmatic popped into the six
CD changer we headed to our house, our mom was always cool. Into the basement we
waddled…hammered. Sam’s other friend, Mikey, pulled out a bowl..Yes, a bowl. A classic
smoking method passed down from the Grateful Dead to Cheech And Chong. We stepped
outside to take a couple of puffs under the condo deck. I remember the taste more than ever. I
don’t know if it was the butane from the lighter or the brown herb running down from dealer to
dealer…But the smell of burning plants and the taste of herbal ash is what I remember.
I used to have a bunk bed in the basement. I was on the top & Mikey laid on the bottom bunk.
He says to me…”how do you feel?”
I honestly didn’t feel anything…Besides a connection to the brewing subculture. A way to
escape the chaos of the laid-out path. I soon would end up getting high. Honestly in similar
situations. But that’s a story for another time. Weed & the community will always be the way to
step away from it all. No matter where you grew up..
This story was written without the use of any artificial intelligence
