And This is Your Brain on Bugs
Dec. 11th, 2003 12:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jamesqI spent my lunch jogging at the Olympic Oval yesterday. I was near the end of my work out when this guy I didn't recognize skates up alongside me (the speed skating track is open for public skating at the same time and the running track is just on the outside of it, separated by a four-foot high foam wall).
So we spent about a lap exchanging whatever-happened-to's.
Later that day I was visiting my Dad, my Brother and his family. I mentioned that I had ran into S. R. and told him about the somewhat short conversation we had. Bill told Becky (his wife) about S. R. and also related the following story of when they were teenagers.
Note: My brother was a teenager in the seventies, so if this sounds like an uncensored episode of That '70s Show, it's with good reason.
Seems my Bro, and several of his friends were in the basement hot-knifing (smoking hash by holding it between two red-hot knife blades). Somebody swatted a fly and fell on the plate they were using to hold the hash bits.
People sometime ask me why I never tried drugs - I usually tell them that I had good examples growing up.
Before you get the wrong idea about my Brother, he's a fine upstanding citizen helping to raise four children. He's never been to jail, and has always been gainfully employed. As for S. R. he looks like a typical mid-level executive. So next time your getting a bank loan or interviewing for a job, ask yourself, "What was this guy doing in the seventies, and does it matter that my son had his nipples pierced".
"Hey, are you James Cyr?", he asks.Shit like this always bothers me. So I was fairly caution when I responded.
"Yeah. I don't recognize you though."I had vague memories of S. R. He had the advantage of being one of the friends of my brother's I didn't hate. Not un-coincidentally, the ones I hated all ended up in jail. but I digress.
"I'm S. R. - I was a friend of your brother's"
So we spent about a lap exchanging whatever-happened-to's.
Later that day I was visiting my Dad, my Brother and his family. I mentioned that I had ran into S. R. and told him about the somewhat short conversation we had. Bill told Becky (his wife) about S. R. and also related the following story of when they were teenagers.
Note: My brother was a teenager in the seventies, so if this sounds like an uncensored episode of That '70s Show, it's with good reason.
Seems my Bro, and several of his friends were in the basement hot-knifing (smoking hash by holding it between two red-hot knife blades). Somebody swatted a fly and fell on the plate they were using to hold the hash bits.
"Hey, is that a dead housefly?" asks S. R.S. R. quickly inhales the smoldering remains of a dead bug and proceeds to turn green and cough up a lung while his friends all laugh their asses off.
"No man, it's hash!", says one of the soon-to-be-jailed friends of my Brother who grabs the bug with the knives and holds it up to S. R.,
"Quick man, suck it up, suck it up!"
People sometime ask me why I never tried drugs - I usually tell them that I had good examples growing up.
Before you get the wrong idea about my Brother, he's a fine upstanding citizen helping to raise four children. He's never been to jail, and has always been gainfully employed. As for S. R. he looks like a typical mid-level executive. So next time your getting a bank loan or interviewing for a job, ask yourself, "What was this guy doing in the seventies, and does it matter that my son had his nipples pierced".
