Scribblings

How you know you’re an old hippie

I went to a local pot store to pick up some edibles. My lungs haven’t had smoke in them in so long that they rebel if I try to smoke pot. So edibles it is.

As I stood at the counter of a lovely little pot emporium, I asked the very nice and VERY young lady helping me what shatter was. As an old hippie who only ever knew to smoke a joint or bake brownies with it, I used to think I knew all there was to know about pot and pot products. But I’d seen the word shatter before and never knew what it was.

So this very nice, VERY young lady explained it to me and then brought me the item needed to use shatter. She went into a very detailed explanation of the item and how it was used. She took it apart. Put it back together. Showed me how to clean it. Showed me where to put the shatter. And when she was all finished, I looked at her and said, “So put it in that bong and smoke it.”

Sadly, I couldn’t tell from the look on her face whether she was horrified by my use of what I assume she thinks of as a slang term for this very complicated piece of equipment or that I would look at that monument to glass and creativity and think it was just a bong. Either way, I left happily with my edibles but sadly knowing that even the terminology was getting ahead of me in my old age.

Oh well, time for an edible and meditation on the meaning of life… as presented by Monty Python – yes, that’s an old reference. Get over it. Watch the movie for god’s sake. Get some culture.