How I Met the Yankee Inhaler

Adventures during my teenage years were often energized with a healthy inhale of Cannabis. The summer of 1977 featured some memorable shenanigans and a cannabis pipe I had never seen since.

My 17th year was a typical for a teenager of the 70s with the required amount of rebellion and angst. I was fortunate to spend the end of my summer hanging around in Vermont far away from my parents and in the company of locals Kevin and Rob. It was a magical time with strong memories of a carefree farewell to the last summer of my high school years.

One particular evening, Kevin, Rob and I hunkered around a backyard fire pit. Blue Oyster Cult was blasting from Rob’s car in concert with a choir of nocturnal insects. The fireside discussion settled upon a rumored pot patch. Apparently, there was a small garden growing against a farm house on a lonely section of road just outside of town. Before long, the three us packed into the getaway vehicle and were on our way to stealing some weed. We loudly sang “Don’t Steal My Reefer” as BOC’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” raged on the car’s tortured speakers.

Since I was the youngest of the group, I was selected as the designated thief. I would cut the weed, run to the road where the getaway car would pull up for the pickup and we would flee into the night with our green booty.

With Bowie knife in hand, I jumped from the vehicle and slipped into the pasture beside the target. I watched as Kevin and Rob drove out of sight then proceeded toward the house. I crept through the tall grass and up to the small garden. Sure enough there were Cannabis plants growing amongst the tomatoes and squash. I went to work chopping the stems and gathering up the 6 foot plants one by one. With my arms straining to contain the giant harvest, my senses working overtime and the crime fully engaged, I thought I heard a screen door squeal… Panic time.

In a flash of fear, I dropped the knife and sprinted toward the open pasture clutching my ill gotten gain. With such a bail of Cannabis in my arms combined with the darkness of night it was impossible to see where I was running. At full teen speed, I ran blindly through the field fueled by fear. The first fall was a spectacular cartwheel into a large ditch that appeared without warning. I never let go of the precious cargo, landing atop the bundle. With an athletic snap to my feet, I was running again before I even knew I was upright.

The adrenalin surge was real and my romp through the pasture was nearing its end. I could see headlights on the road ahead. Then my feet made contact with an extremely large and still moist cowpie. Anyone familiar with farm life will tell you a cow’s poop has the coefficient of friction similar to the banana peel. Upon entering the “pie”, my feet were propelled forward at 10 times the rate of the rest of my body. With cartoon-like choreography, I was launched into the air, hovering above the ground just long enough to realize the next instant was going to be unpleasant.

With a an extremely squishy splat, I landed on my back into the enormous pile of dung. But the weed was safe. Back on my feet and quickly toward the approaching lights, I ignored the pain and odor as I saw salvation ahead. I reached the edge of the field and jumped out into the road.

The vehicle drew closer and I was looking directly into the lights, impairing my vision. I did not care… I got the weed and I was home free. I stood in the road so my getaway vehicle could pick me up as planned. The car pulled up slowly. Peering around the bundle of contraband, I focused on my ride.

It was not Kevin and Rob.

As the mysterious car pulled up, I saw the driver window go down and the unknown occupant staring disbelievingly at the walking bush before them. There was nothing I could do but stare back. And the car pulled away quickly with a chirp and a leap into the darkness. I believe my mouth was still open when Kevin and Rob drove up laughing hysterically.

…to be continued…

Tokermon Tuesday # 59

Welcome to Tuesday… welcome a new Tokermon. Meet Chypp. Nobody knows why Chypp hangs around the pot patch. Lying still on the soil, Chypp prefers to be motionless and quiet, sometimes stacked with other Chypps. You can bet Chypp is gambling on a lucky break.

You can view all the Tokermon so far by clicking the link below:
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Tokermon Tuesday #57

Welcome to yet another Tokermon Tuesday… This nearly transparent Tokermon is called Gelator. This Tokermon is clearly hard to find yet Gelator can be as big as a kitty and is found anywhere there is fertilizer.

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Tokermon Tuesday # 56

Welcome to yet another Tokermon Tuesday… This nasty little Tokermon is Loogie. Glistening and disgusting like something from deep inside a lung, Loogie can be found stuck to the walls of the grow room.

Loogie Tokermon

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Tokermon Tuesday # 55

Welcome to yet another Tokermon Tuesday… Blurm is our Tokermon for the day. Like a green string of pearls, you’ll find Blurm “accessorizing” your plants by wrapping itself around the larger cannabis stems.

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Tokermon Tuesday #54

Tokermon Tuesday is here again, hooray… Here’s Bunch. A fruit headed Tokermon, Bunch is forever in the branches. This Tokermon will hang upside down from the the highest branch and mimic bananas for some unknown reason.

Bunch Tokermon

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Tokermon Tuesday # 52

Tokermon Tuesday again. Can you believe we’ve been introducing the world to the Tokermon for a full year. With 53 Tokermon identified, how many more could there be…?

This Tuesday’s Tokermon has a split personality… meet Zyppie. You’ll see Zyppie zipping around the Pot Patch attempting to pull himself together.

Zyppie Tokermon

You can view all the Tokermon so far by clicking the link below:
Who are the Tokermon?