November 20, 2000

Opinion

Reminiscences on Being Roached

By:Mark de Pelham

Roached, it was a big joint
and a good joint. The high I’m
feeling is light and mellow. |
feel the reefer bringing me
into a contemplative state.
Did the mole on my back get
any bigger? Chili for dinner?
If | smoke two joints in the
morning, then smoke two at
night after having smoked
two in the afternoon, will |
really feel all right?

| lick the glossy yellow strip at
the top of the paper and del-
icately, yet assertively mate it
to the side of my stuffed cylin-
drical creation. I’ve rolled two,
neither so large as the one
I’ve just finished smoking, but
containing greens as deadly
as anything you can find. |
feel like going for a car ride.
After a few minor prepara-
tions and a phone call | leave
the house with my doobies.
the car I’m driving is not
mine, merely on loan from a
friend. She isn’t pretty or fast,
the drivers side door sticks

and | have bad habit of dri-
ving with the emergency
brake on. It’s a small car, but
comfortably holds two people
and ail the fragrant fumes you
can exhale, perfect for today’s
mission.

The weather is beautiful; a
few light clouds set to a back-
drop of blue sky and brilliant
sunshine. | find that in my cur-
rent mindset this weather
charms me? | guess that
must be the weed talking, as
long as he keeps his voice
down | don’t mind.

| drive to the house where my
friend/victim/patient resides.
He’s still inside, obviously
movinga little slow on this
day. Preparing to administer
the medication doctor.

| wait for about ten minutes.
IN reality that’s about two, but
what the hell is the difference
anyway? As he finally makes
his way out the door and into
the car, | realize my shirt is on
inside out, not a big deal. Our
conversation on this day is
bland so | spark up the first

Tax cuts

joint and take a long hard
draw. Exhaling through my
nose and running my tongue
over the roof of my mouth, |
experience the full flavour of
the chronic, delicious. After a
few passes only a half joint is
left and we are parked on a
hill overlooking the city. | light
the last reefer and although
we toke conservatively the
haze in the air gets ever thick-
er. :

The pungent smell of the
smoke seems to permeate
everything. As | pull smoke
from this resiny little thing, |
cannot evade the thought that
soon it will be gone. Each and
every time the velvety smoke
passes by my lips on.route to
alveoli, a small bit of grass
burns away. It is a diminuation
that happens silently, save a
slight crackle as the heat con-
sumes. Bit by bit, toke by toke
the joint burns away into the
air. As the session is done,
we exit the vehicle. We watch
the plume of smoke billow out
of the car at first; then it slows

to a waft, dissipating into the
blue sky.

Back on the road and this
thought of diminuation both-
ers me. The very slight yet
constant consumption of gas
as we travel in the car. The
minute degradation of the
brake pads every time | stop
or slow the vehicle down.
Spending the last dollar on a
bag of grass or a case of
beer. Sipping the last of the
suds or taking the last toke off
the last joint when you're
totally broke.

Counting down the minutes
to a final destination or
watching the time tick by
when there seems to be noth-
ing else to do. Why can’t the
axe just drop and when the
gas tank isn’t full it's empty?
I'd like to forget about it but |
can’t. | can’t forget because
of the greatest dimuniation of
all, life. Though it is a slow
countdown from cradle to
grave | know it will slip by.
Like the unbearable wait until
Christmas and then by New

Years all your presents are
broken. All of these diminu-
tive little things and their
diminutive little parts. They
will form together as a fast
moving whole and it will slip
by in one short moment.

One day waking up, | will be
fifty years old; memory dis-
solved by time and THC. With
no understanding of my kids,
or hope of ever understand-
ing them. | will be obsolete.
What feels like a couple of
days and the pains of old age
are so bad I'll wish | would
die. A few short ones from
there and it’s death, and I’m
wondering: | kept track of it all
so well, how did it get away?
Goodbye.

[__ |Post-secondary
for a few |__jeducation for all

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