Slightly less than 20 years ago, I had the good luck to have a fun roommate named Greg who was from the Milwaukee area. We were roommates in LaCrosse, WI going to UW-LaCrosse. Greg was fun because he played guitar, had similar musical interests than I and knew where to get good pot. During the summer, I found a job and was able to stay in town. Greg moved out after the school year, but, as friends, we still saw a lot of each other.
Greg and his laconic friend went to a Grateful Dead concert. He asked me if I wanted any acid. I had to say yes. Ever since 8th grade I wondered what acid would do to a person. I was proud of the fact that Ithaca did an excellent job of educating me on the different types of drugs. Sometimes, you’ll hear some old fart say, "One kind of drug is just as bad as the other." My education showed that was total and complete nonsense. The other reason I thought that my education was excellent was because they made a very important distinction. Certain drugs like alcohol and opoid class drugs (heroin, opium, then Vicodin) are addictive. Other drugs like marijuana and acid were not addictive, but a person could develop a "psychologic dependence" . That’s an important distinction, because these days, "addiction" is one of the most overused words you hear.
I can’t help but recall in 8th grade reading about LSD with some amazement and curiosity. It stunned me that someone could actually get a flashback. I wondered what it would be like to see something that wasn’t really there. Early during my college years, every so often, someone would talk about taking acid. I would "pepper" them with questions about it, because of my curiosity.
Greg came back from the Twin Cities concert with acid. I called him up and told him to come and bring it over. He questioned me as to whether I should take it because it was 10 pm. and the acid would keep me going for 6 hours. I said that’s ok. I figured since I weighed more than Greg, it would probably not last as long for me. Once he came over, he said that this guy was walking around the Grateful Dead concert saying, "Trips! Trips! Anyone want any trips?". The way Greg described it, I always get this image of a guy comparable to the vendor at the the baseball games that shouts, "Get your peeeeeea-nuts!" Anyway, that’s who they bought the LSD from.
Greg gave me a very detailed directions on how to consume LSD (right down to "put it in your mouth"). I guess I was a little slow in those days. Instead of licking the small piece of paper it was on as he recommended, I simply ate the paper so that I would get every bit of acid I paid for. Right after he came over, we also smoked some hash. We listened to Beatles (circa Magical Mystery Tour) and I always thought listening to any John Lennon vocal was the best thing to listen to when one is high. He sounds so compelling! Then we walked over to Greg’s apartment and we saw a tape of either the Grateful Dead concert that Greg and his laconic friend went to or another Dead concert. I remember sitting there in my happy high looking and saying, "That Jerry Garcia looks like a puppy singing!" Just imagine a puppy, your pet or any dog and imagine them up at the microphone singing. Then you know why I had such a shit-eating grin on my face.
So did that mental image come from the hash or the LSD? Who knows?
Anyway, by midnight the hash had most definitely worn off and I was feeling effects of the acid. I recall that things that I imagined seeing/hallucinating weren’t actual visions but things that looked like a negative just taken out of a camera. Or if you ever saw the CD Let It Be...Naked that cover. I saw ribs and images of monkeys as negatives, not really images. I remember laying in bed and rhyming words with nonsense words (EX skeleton, skeletar, skela, etc. ).
Greg was right, and I was wrong. The acid lasted until 5:30 am inspite my attempts to try and sleep it off. My impression is that it was slightly similar to pot, but with the added kick of keeping you going for an extended period of time. I didn’t like the fact that it would not allow me to sleep which made me resolve, as I did later with coke, that I wouldn’t take it again.
I also confessed to the Monsignor in LaCrosse that I took a drug. & he said that it’s a big problem out there and that I should not want to be part of the crowd that is afflicted with that problem. That was the only time I ever confessed to taking a drug. Honestly, I don’t think of smoking marijuana to be a sin.
Anyway, acid was a much more interesting experience than coke, but did not give me the fun times that I’ve had with pot.
Part 3: The ‘shroom that got stuck.
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