Take one puff or two, and call me in the morning!

When I was in Virginia Beach, VA in 1997, I had packed a 40' moving van with a 2nd floor apt. full of furniture.  That is a LOT of wear and tear on an ankle that really wasn't designed to bear weight  at all.  After we packed the truck, we went to a local diner for supper.  My Ex had to help me back to the truck after we ate, because I couldn't touch my foot to the ground without screaming my damned head off.
The next day, we were planning on driving back to St. Louis.  I had to crawl through the house because I couldn't stand up.

Anywho, he got me a little "help" from an acquaintance's house.

Back story:
When I was 17, and fresh out of my parent's house, I was in a horrible "straight roommate" situation that I don't care to ever repeat as long as I live.  When I first met this roommate, he was an attractive young man.  Virile, muscly, bushy red hair, a full, thick beard, and from across the room, at any rate, it didn't seem like he was hurting anywhere else, if you know what I mean.

This young man spent the entire check from his job on pot and beer. He chain smoked - POT!     We could drive (!!) at highway speeds in his 1974 Chevy Nova, with all 4 windows rolled completely down, and when I got out of the car, my eyes were beet red.  I had never touched the stuff, but you can bet that I was building up a tolerance by getting a load of his smoke when I was anywhere within a 10 mile radius of him.

A couple years later, I was offered a joint.  Smoked this joint, and I looked at the people that were in this circle, and did my best imitation of Peggy Lee... "Is That All There Is?"  Keep in mind that just a couple years earlier, I shared an apartment with the world's biggest pot head.  Just by knowing this people and what they were about, I can testify that they did not have "bad weed", but that my tolerance was still very high, considering the fact that I had never actually touched a joint in my life.

That was in 1989.  Fast forward to 1997, Virginia Beach:

My helpful friend rolled me a FAT joint, and, based on my previous experience, I smoked the whole damned thing.  Mind you, I hadn't been anywhere near the stuff in almost 10 years.  You know that from my personal medical experience, I had been on morphine and other strong pain killers as a child, so my tolerance (when I was YOUNG!) was very high.  Pot is no match for Morphine, Vicodin, etc.

To end this storied saga, I thought my tolerance would still be sky high, so I smoked this fat joint.  THEN, my friend takes me to lunch WITH HIS JEWISH MOTHER! at a snack shop that was inside a grocery store.  By this time of the day - considering that I inhaled an entire fat joint - I was feeling NO PAIN AT ALL.  Even with no pain, I was fighting like Hell to walk across parking lot to go inside the grocery store.  The problem was simple. I was so fricken high that I couldn't stand up!

We entered the snack shop, and I approached the counter.  I asked the gent if he had any ONION ice cream!  When I realized my folly, of course, I thought I was fricken hilarious, and I laughed my ass off for probably 10 minutes.  THEN....I had to go sit at a table, act as if nothing strange was happening, and have decent conversation with his Jewish mamma!  (Hindsight being 20 / 20, the whole day was hilarious, but at the time... not so much!)

I know you are asking, "What happened to the buff red head?"
Answer:
In excessive amounts, the active ingredient in marijuana (THC), decreases testosterone levels.  What is left? ESTROGEN!  In other words a side effect of excessive pot use can be increased secondary female sex characteristics in men.

This man's beard grew sparse and shaggy, his voice raised considerably, his hips widened in a womanly fashion, and he grew noticeably large BOOBS! Worse yet, I witnessed him frustrated, storming out of his bedroom on more than one occasion.  He had his girlfriend in there, they were trying to "get it on", and he couldn't!  His testosterone had decreased so much that his penis and testicles shrank, and could no longer get it up when he wanted to.

I don't know if this man has completely drugged himself out yet (if he is still alive), but if he EVER decided to decrease his pot use, his voice MIGHT lower again, and his facial hair MIGHT grow back. But - he is probably stuck with those womanly hips and his huge honkers!

The moral of this story:
#1) I would like to take Marinol - the active ingredient in pot in a legal pill form, and since I quite smoking 2 years ago, I think inhaling ANYTHING would hurt my lungs more than it would help, if you know what I mean.
#2) Since I like my manliness right where it is, occasional medical use is OK, but even though I have in the past often played "a woman on TV", I really don't want a pot-induced sex change!  :)

Marinol:



More info:
http://www.justice.gov/dea/ongoing/marinol.html
- Michael

Late For An Important Date

So....


Yesterday, I have a conversation with another random visitor at the Missouri Botanical Gardens.  At the same time, we both stopped to watch the 20+ turtles sunning themselves on a raised ledge in the quickly growing Lotus area of the Japanese Lake.


This lady tells me that the 2 people in her group, herself, her husband, and her brother, drive twice a year from Ohio (485 miles!) just to see the Botanical Gardens.  She told me that they normally visit around this time of the season each year, and once more later in the growing season.  They visit at this time specifically to see the Azaleas, Tulips, Daffodils, etc.  (I know that you, astute dear reader, have already figured out the gist of this tiring saga!)


Let me present to you the moral of this story even before I reach the end:
Those dear people drove 485 miles to see "something they have always seen at this time of year".  Although they were enjoying their visit, they TOTALLY missed the Daffodils, 99.99% of the tulips are gone, and what ever Azaleas remain are in their death throes even as we speak.  Magnolias are definitely, finished, but the Rhododendrons are still breathtaking and beautiful.


Most of the tree peonies have long since bloomed, and have lost their petals, but even though a few of the 'ordinary' variety of peonies have completely finished blooming, most have yet to take center stage.  I know that by the last of this month, or the first week of May, most likely all of the peonies will have finished - a month early.


Speaking of early finishes (Dorothy: "Keep it out of the gutter, Blanche!), the LARGE Iris  beds are, even as we speak, in full bloom.  The Iris' started blooming a couple weeks ago, and anybody that knows Iris' well enough will know that an Iris that bloomed in early April is a month to a month and a half early. They are usually an early-to-mid May bloomer.


You knew that there was another moral to this story!


If you want to see the Iris' - go NOW, or some time this week.  


If you do the same thing that these dear, weary long distance travelers did, and you wait for a particular plant's  "normal" bloom time to visit, you will, in essence, be sitting in the bleachers of Busch Stadium the day after a game. You will miss the entire show. SO... adjust your minds, your visits and your calendars accordingly - or you will miss it.

- Michael

The Saga of The Doozie Cookie

The bakery departments in St. Louis' Schnuck's grocery stores will often sell a sweet concoction that is a cookie sandwich which is composed of two large chocolate chip cookies, about an inch of icing in between the cookies, and a HUGE amount of icing in the form of various decorations on top.

I LOVE THESE THINGS!

However.... the bakery in the Schnuck's store that is 2 blocks from my home doesn't makes these 'little' treats on a regular basis. I was in that store on Thursday evening with my sister, and I talked to a lady that worked in the bakery. I told her that I would often drive to another Schnuck's store that is over 4 miles from my home to buy my Doozie Cookie if this Schnuck's Store - 4 blocks away - didn't have any made up.

On this particular Thursday evening, we continued our way through the store. A couple minutes later, this same bakery employee found me walking through the store. She was carrying a Doozie Cookie! She made one up especially for me! I felt like running to the front of the store, and doing my own version of Sally Field's, "The like me! They really like me!" The lady told me that she would have to go back to the bakery dept. to put a price on the Doozie Cookie. I told her, "That would be $1.89!"

Chapter 2 of this saga:

Last night, Mark went to "our" Schnuck's to get necessary ingredients to make tacos. When he walked back in the house after shopping, he sat a shopping bag down on the counter that contained two Doozie Cookies, and he asked me, "Just how many times to YOU go to Schnuck's?" I asked him why he was inquiring. He said, "Some lady at the bakery told him that they were going to start carrying Doozie Cookies on a regular basis because 'some little guy keeps coming in there and asking for them!"

OMG, indeed! My cravings are getting as famous as my face is at local events and venues!

- Michael