The Weed Chronicals

Holy shit!!!! There is a slight possibility that I have brain damage. Being that I now work for myself, I have a lot of time to sit back and think. Actually, I have enough time to sleep, drink and smoke weed. I don’t smoke that often, but in hopes of stopping the drug of nicotine, it comes in handy. I am one of those people that gets bored of things very quickly. That includes people too. There was a time when I had to smoke weed. I mean, I just had too. I don’t know what it was. Looking back, that was all bullshit. When people say that now, I think it’s crazy. I used to smoke maybe ten to fifteen blunts a day at one point. That was in maybe 1996 o 1997, my days of being a so called rap producer. Going to IAR at that time, everyone smoked. Like clockwork, every morning when i walked up the stairs from the train, there was always someone there from school, looking for a light, or just someone to smoke with. Not only was I always late for my first class, I was high a shit and couldn’t even concentrate. When the instructor was lecturing on something, it always sounded like Greek to me. Like, she would say, “turn your book to page one hundred and thirty seven.” It sounded like, bopka babka gyro banga boopa doop.” I figured that I could beat the system, and get a mini tape recorder, to record lectures. But in those days, you smoke, you freestyle, and if I was rhyming, then I was going o record it. No way I was going to waste good tape on something silly like education. I also had a plan of just sitting in front of the class so I could concentrate more, but then I would go into a trance, and get paranoid. I was thinking that someone was looking at the back of my head, and they were using x-ray beams on me, and trying to melt my head.
Smoking weed also helps you make some dumb ass decisions. There was a guy from Mt. Vernon, who I was real cool with. We always had little battles in front of the school or at Washington Square Park. He would always say to me, “yo, you got to come with me to mt. Vernon, meet my boys, they rhyme.” So, of course, “I’m like who are they?” he tells me some group called the warlocks. And I would clown that, and say nah, wasn’t going to fuck with them. Smooth move Flav, weed knowledge strikes again. I know one thing, depending on the quality of the weed determined my paranoia levels. Man, when I was living at home, I would go on the back roof, smoke out, and then go back in, turn my radio on, and just rhyme into a recorder. However, the house was empty on the first and second floors. No one was ever home but me most of the time. But every time when I did this, I would hear, and feel these bangs. It was like BOOM BOOM BOOM! No bullshit, almost every time. Talk about a nigga shook. Now the history of the house was crazy, I know who was living here right before their death, my uncle. And also an old lady died on the second floor, in her rocking chair. In a high assed mind, you don’t know what to do, you just wondering why these damned ghosts have a problem with weed. Come to think of it, I bet they were the ones stealing my bags at some point too. That shit would always have me on edge. I wasn’t foolish enough to go downstairs to see where the noise was coming from.
Not too long ago, I got a visit from my cousin. I haven seen or talked to any family members since the death of our cousin. My depression had returned in a horrible way. I didn’t understand how it did like that. I was okay for maybe a week in July, but one night I looked at his obituary picture, and I went into instant shutdown mode. Anyone that knows of me, knows that I will cut myself off from everything, especially light. Well, anyway. My cousin comes over, bangs on the door. At first I wasn’t going to even answer it. I saw that it was him, walked on the porch and we talked for a bit. We decide to go to his brother’s house, my older cousin, Digg. Lo and behold, we are sitting around shooting the shit about hip hop with Digg’s brother in law. They were sipping on the cognac, and of course I had some hienekens, because hienekens are made with sprinkles of heaven.
So, after his brother in law left, I start looking through my pockets, and found a bag of weed. Some goods, as we like to call it. Dig is like, “well, what are you waiting for, lets get a dutch.” Now, this shocked the shit out of me, because he hasn’t smoked in years. Well, this is an exciting time right now. These are he dudes that I started smoking with as a teenager. It was a long time since we were all together, and sparked one up.

Considering what we had all just went through a couple months prior, I guess it was fitting. I don’t even remember who rolled it. All I know is that once back from the store, it was rolled and ready for action. Ahhhhhhh, it is lit, and its going down. This was a fatty too. So, we are sitting around, passing the damn thing. Ciphers are easy to control with only three heads. I pass the L to my big cuz, and he drops it. We are sitting on his deck. The spaces on the deck are mad wide. Too wide, therefore, wide enough for the only lit 5 minutes ago blunt to fall through onto the ground in a damn leafy area underneath the deck. Holy shit.

Now under the deck was fenced in, so it was necessary tat we had to break part of the fence to get under the deck. My poor cousin who is shorter than Digg and me, was the obvious choice to climb under. The poor guy had to do it, there was no more weed to go around. And this was like a blessing, toast sort of to our deceased cousin. We had to get this L back. I have never laughed so hard up until that point in my life. So here we are, sitting up on the deck, holding lighters, and lights from cell phones, so that my cuz could see where the blunt was at. I was hoping that the he would find it, and feeling like a fiend at the same time. But we had to smoke, together. We just had too. We were the original blunt buddies.

He found it got damnit! Happy and joy. We proceed to smoke. Good times man, it was a long time. Weed can do a few things to you. Didn’t do much to me that night. I was happy to be with my family. I was happy to be with my family, and have it not be after a funeral for the first time in a long time. We do what we always do when we smoke together. We listen to music and freestyle for the rest of the night. I never really saw it as battling, but you can always feel that there is one going on. but nothing ever too hostile. My older cousin introduced me to hip hop, in the purest form. Shit, and smoking weed. Cannot wait to see him again, and tote one for old times sake.