Summer of 1970. My husband and I had been married for almost two years. One of my younger brothers was just out of college and the other was just about to start his junior year. We were together at our parents’ condo, and our parental units had gone out for the evening. I guess my husband and I should have been more mature, but when one of my brothers suggested getting stoned and driving to downtown Detroit to see the movie Woodstock on the big screen, we were all in.
Woodstock was truly a film best enjoyed when stoned.
My middle brother drove all of us and it is amazing that we arrived in one piece. He laughed maniacally as he wove in and out of traffic on the John C. Lodge Freeway, reaching our destination in a state of giddy euphoria. Woodstock was truly a film best enjoyed when stoned. By the time it ended and we returned to home base in a soberer state, we cleaned up the evidence of our crime and my parents never noticed anything amiss.
Of course, my parents were incredibly naïve to begin with. My mother found my younger brother’s weed rolling papers under a sofa pillow and called me in distress. She was upset that he was smoking cigarettes and confused about why he felt the need to roll his own. I never squealed, but my brothers were just enough younger than I that they remember very little of their college years. I had tried pot, but my main way to have fun at a party was to drink.
I got pregnant shortly after this experience, putting an end to my limited exposure to getting high. After a scare in which a medical school friend of my husband’s served us marijuana-laced brownies without our knowledge when I was barely pregnant, I never touched the stuff again. Well, that’s not quite true. Recently, I tried edibles to relieve back pain. My back still hurt but my brain was so foggy that I barely noticed. Not the cure I was hoping to achieve.
No more getting high
Laurie LevyBoomer. Educator. Advocate. Eclectic topics: grandkids, special needs, values, aging, loss, & whatever. Author: Terribly Strange and Wonderfully Real.
Funny story, Laurie. I can sort of relate. I also had a naive mother who didn’t understand when a boyfriend showed up, stoned to my house. Just as well.
“Fantasia” was re-released sometime after I was in college and my brother was in rabbinic school (after he came home from Israel in 1972). He is the straightest human being on the planet, but LOVES Disney movies. He really wanted to see this one again on the big screen, so we went into Royal Oak to see it. It had NOT been a commercial success the first time around. This time, there was a long line of long-haired kids waiting to get in. They were laughing, happy, mellow folks, who flocked to the front of the theater (my brother didn’t understand why they wanted to sit so close either). He loved the innovative animation and wonderful music. The stoned freaks were tripping away. I had to explain all of that to my naive brother. It was another universe for him. Pretty funny scene.
That’s quite a funny story, Betsy. I didn’t love Fantasia, except for the music, the first time I saw it. Maybe I should have tried it stoned.
Good story and good lesson learned Laurie, taking chances with anything while pregnant is never a good idea. I remember even refusing aspirin.
But here’s a funny memory – I was very pregnant and about to head down the steep flight of stone steps outside the school building where I worked.
I tripped and literally rolled down the steps.
It was wintertime and was wearing a fur-lined coat so I was well padded and felt no broken bones. But worrying about the baby, I called my obstetrician’s office.
I was told, “Have a stiff drink.”
Those were different times for sure, Dana. Even though there weren’t as many restrictions for pregnant women in my day, I was pretty sure pot brownies were not a good thing. That ended our friendship with that guy.
Interesting all around, and particularly fascinating about the edibles, Laurie. I keep hearing that what is being (legally) dispensed these days is “not your parents’ (i.e., our) pot.” It is much stronger and its effects more unpredictable and problematic. In any event, making brains foggy at our age seems redundant at best.
You are so right, John. At this stage of life, I can live with some back pain, but I do not need to be any more foggy than I already am!
Your experience was amusing in Retrospect, Laurie (although not the part about being pregnant and eating the brownies). I watched two Monty Python movies when I was stoned and they were hilarious. Years later I re-watched them, and one was as funny as I remembered, and the other wasn’t. Now we are all experimenting with cannabis in all its forms for pain relief. Times change!
Drugs and alcohol did make many things funnier or more entertaining. I have also re-watched movies and wondered why I loved them when I was younger. Maybe it wasn’t even the enhancements. Some things are not as funny as we age.
Love the description of you and your brothers driving to the movies in a state of giddy euphoria. Woodstock is definitely a movie best seen stoned (or tripping, as I was when I saw it the first time).
I haven’t investigated cannabis for pain management, but I do know there are two different kinds, THC and CBD, one for getting high and one for pain. The edibles you tried may have been the wrong type.
I have tried a few kinds of cannabis. Some of my friends swear by it, both for pain and sleep. I guess I’m not someone who benefits and I would have to keep experimenting with it to see if there is anything out there that helps. Just not feeling bad enough to risk the side effects.
Very compelling narrative, fun to read. I liked that you ended the piece with an incomplete sentence.
Those were the days — no responsibility and total freedom. Having a child forced me to grow up.
That’s a very interesting story, Laurie. Thanks for posting it. You make two points I’d like to pick up on. First, I never felt comfortable riding in a car with a driver who was high. Admittedly, I never actually heard of anything bad happening, at least among the people I knew, but being inherently a low-risk type, it scared me nonetheless. Second, your point about marijuana-laced brownies implies something important about that mode of use, namely, that it’s virtually impossible to closely control the amount you consume, which can lead to some nasty surprises. Way back when, I occasionally smoked hash. Once, at a party, I was offered a hash brownie, and thinking it shouldn’t be any bid deal, I accepted it. Fifteen minutes after eating it, I left the party and decided to walk home. All of a sudden, after about a half hour, I felt as if someone had whacked me in the head with a two-by-four. I managed to get home, finally fell into bed, and the next morning I was okay. But that was the last time I tried that.
I’m with you, Fred. The brownies were not my thing, especially because he didn’t mention that he laced them with pot. I was pregnant and he took away my ability to decide if I wanted to risk it. I didn’t. Luckily, I don’t think I ate the whole thing (maybe he mentioned what was in it at some point?) and all was well. We never socialized with him after that. As to being in a car with my stoned brother, that was very stupid in retrospect.
There was a lot of irresponsible use of drugs including plying unsuspecting “friends” with substances—brownies or punch or whatever.. Funny how having kids helps people change. I have some good friends who made themselves very knowledgeable about medicinal marijuana when their grandchild developed intractable epilepsy—and found out there is a LOT to learn about using various varieties and combinations of CBD, THC, and other active ingredients to relieve various maladies. Lots of promise, but so much to discover.
I could never forgive the guy who served us the brownies. Thankfully, all was well, but you never know. I do think there is a place for medical marijuana, but there was just too much trial and error in it for me.