Scarlett Sumac's Blog

FEBRUARY 10, 2012 10:39PM

1st time or 2nd time? ... I forget! (tr ig's OC)

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Charlene had been curious about marijuana for some time. She had indulged once before but felt some apprehension and didn’t inhale all the way. She didn’t get high but she did get tired. What’s the big fuss she wondered. 
 
At sixteen, she sometimes hid out by the garage and smoked the odd cigarette and got the spins. Her folks came around the corner once as she was hauling hard on a cig. She quickly put the smoke out against the cement car port, and thinking it was extinguished, hid the butt in the pocket of her new winter coat.

Bad move.

First it smoldered a bit in the pocket and then left a round gaping burn hole the exact circumference of the cigarette.  It’s hard to hide your only winter coat - a new one at that - from your Ma. Both mother and daughter were pretty upset about ruining the new coat. Plus, that coat smelled like burnt tobacco for the longest time.

For the time being, based on the guilt factor alone, cigarettes lost their appeal. Another combustible, however, was to come into the picture to take their place.

One sunny summer day Charlene and her best girlfriend were walking along the roadside on their way to a sandy beach that lined the great shiny lake they lived near. In those days, no one seemed in a particular rush and your parents definitely didn't drive you; unless you had a driver's license, you walked everywhere.

Charlene’s brother Rod drove by in his aqua blue Rambler, stopped and asked where they were going. He said he and his buddy were going to the beach too if they wanted a ride, but that he needed to stop by his apartment first. He was about five years older and was already moved out of the house and living on his own. 

They stopped at his apartment while he picked up some towels and blankets. Her brother’s friend laughed saying,

“Gimme a minute while I roll a marijuana cigarette."

Charlene overheard her brother say, “That herb doesn’t have any seeds; it’s Sensimilla."

After that he referred to it as Sensi.

Rod’s buddy rolled two joints, and lit one, filling the room with a thick heady perfume. 

Charlene had been around when they "smoked up" before but this time her brother asked if she and her friend wanted some. After all, it was the summer, school was out, and the only responsibility that lie ahead was getting a good tan at the lake. Being asked to partake in this ritual made her feel grown up, and so with determination, she toked on that reefer like Bob Marley himself. Surely that would do the trick. 

Charlene took a haul when the joint came around first time, second time, third time; after the fourth time, she passed on it.

Till this day she isn’t sure whether the following event was brought on by the power of suggestion of the book laying on her brother’s coffee table, or not.

secret life of plants

The event was so remarkable in and of itself, it never left Charlene’s mind.

On a nearby table stood a snake plant, (or commonly referred to as mother-in-law’s tongue). At sixteen years old, any notion of a mother-in-law was very far, far off in Charlene’s mind. But she later figured that there may have been an unconscious association with a 'talking plant' that spurred the event.

Snake plant 

She was sitting comfortably on the sofa, when out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw upright leaves of the plant moving.

There was no breeze in the room and the pointy plant with its vertical leaves were swaying back and forth. It was as if the plant itself had engaged in a premeditated dance. She looked over to see it was not her peripheral vision playing tricks; it appeared the stiff leaves were moving up, down and sideways, and apparently in time to the music on the high fidelity stereo.

Charlene swallowed hard with her now dry mouth, and kept this vision to herself. After all she did not want to be the freaked out little sister. Still inside her head she was singing,

 “Freak out in a Moonage Daydream. Oh yeah!

It was the 1970's after all, and so with towels, beach blanket, suntan lotion and a different state of mind, they all piled into the Rambler and headed to the beach.   

 
© Scarlett Sumac. 2012             Read more of Charlene's adventures    
                                                                           Part 2   found here.                                 
      
 
     Images courtesy of Google. 

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Whoa, the weird things that happen before you get a handle on the substance. Ambulatory plants and that zone that National Lampoon's old Radio Dinner described as "the place where sound meets color and shadows explode". Neatly rolled tale Scarlett. I missed the original OC but maybe I'll try to conjure up something. Looking forward to Part 2.
Scarlett, that's a wonderful reminiscence of an earlier time that reminds me so much of life back then! Growing up on a farm north of the city it eventually became my brother's job to mow the fields twice a summer and on one such occasion he discovered someone had planted one marijuana plant in a back corner of the most distant field. I never heard what happened to that plant, but since that time in the late '60s the authorities routinely fly all over this region looking for anything illicit and on a few occasions they have made such a huge discovery that it's mind boggling how anyone could go through back country to cultivate the plants and never get caught, although their "garden" is confiscated!
Wow okay I'm hooked I will be watching for part 2!
Someone was playing Santana and I saw every note playing on the ceiling. Great story.
rated with love
Oh Wonderful! I loved watching that plant. Stoned...so interesting to hear all the different takes on what that means.
Very cool. Await further adventures of Charlene.
Abra: I think it's a pretty non-official Open Call; the best kind. :) I wanna hear about your time in Amsterdam!

designanator: Thanks. In some ways those days were really a great mix of innocence and experience. Bless older brothers!

LunchLady: So bad Charlene's new winter coat got burnt, huh? ;)

RomPoet: Carlos and notes on the ceiling ... perfect.
Cool story, Scarlett; looking forward to reading what lil' sister does on her next excellent adventure. (I don't see fiction in the tags either - true tale?) I like the idea of the plant swaying to the music; too bad they don't do that in real life!
Margaret: Sshhhh ... I meant to put fiction in the tags!! I know you live in Columbus but I was hoping you've been close enough to see the way Erie can shine in the sun. I'm going to R n' R Hall of Fame again soon. I'm just sayin' ... think you should take some time off from the kids and meet me there ...

Myriad: I talked with Charlene, she has the next post written but needs, you know, to sleep on it. I liked your comment to my comment on your post. No need to shuffle, though, there's worse things ... ;)

Zanelle: Yes, it's a cool video. I commented on your "Bowl" post, I see you have a new [post]up. OS isn't so great at directing us to comments on earlier posts, so if you have a chance, check it out. I admire your stamina.
I can taste the times you evoke (the weed, too.)
Très original ma chéri. Q'est ce que vous avez fume???…. ahhh… pensant ? :)

J'ai seulement fumé un joint deux fois dans ma vie et j'ai jamais inhaler. C'est tout semble trop vrai. :)

Sensimilla.... Isn't that on the Demi Moore diet??:)

HUGGGGGGG
Oh yeah, first observing the secret life & dancing of plants and then if there's a beach around, ya gotta take the buzz there. The next installment will be good too...
The secret life of plants is something everyone should read because it rocks. Thanks for time well spent with Charlene. She is bound to be someone a lot will follow...
.........(¯`v´¯) (¯`v´¯)
☼•*¨`*•.¸.(ˆ◡ˆ).¸.•*
............... *•.¸.•* ♥⋆★•❥ Peace and ♥ L☼√Ξ ☼ ♥
⋆───★•❥Have a Lovely Day ☼ .¸¸.•*`*•.♥ (ツ)
Well, if I wasn't high before, I was after I watched the video of the plants. Why do we think of plants as not moving? Maybe you have to be in the right head space to see them move. I never thought about it before, but plants all are born as little canes, and their heads come out of the ground after their bodies. Who thought of that? I'm tripping. What was in those plants, anyway?
A walk on the beach in the warm sun with an altered sense of conscience....how lovely that would feel.

Looking forward to part two of Charlene's Excellent Adventures!
Laughed at the idea of the cool guy driving an aqua blue Rambler. Sounds like Aunt Vedna's car.
Oh my!
My own imagination is already wandering and wondering into the next sequence. The mother-in-law.. snake plant? Much significance their Eve... I mean Charlene. Plants are our friends! None more than the sensi!!
“It was the 1970's after all, and so with towels, beach blanket,
suntan lotion and a different state of mind…” I can imagine
the good silly innocent
sensuous
girly
adventure, ending in munching out, or just melting your
oiled flesh into the sand & sun and having strange dreams?

My sisters used to show up at the house when I was a wee boy,
in the 1970’s, slather on the baby oil, and bake for hours.
The sight and smell and sense of that languor they loved
will stay with me forever.

I once got “baked” as we called it in the 80’s, and lay in the sun, and half closed my eyes, and in my eyebrows, as seen from,well, inside my eyes, little faces and images began to appear…I cant remember how long it lasted…but whatever it was, it started me on my lifelong journey to have visionary experience…of some damn kind…the kind I have is rather absurd…

The point is: the older I get, the more I realize that our conscious minds are tiny extensions, and Underneath, the Unconcious rules. Lately I have been trying to just shut up my conscious mind, which is after all just a lot of verbalizing, isn’t it, to oneself & others?...and having quieted it, let the unconscious move “my” body as it sees fit. It is fun….you find out what is REALLY ON YOUR MIND then.

That is one sassy cool picture of you , SS, by the way…
Oh, hurry up & write part two!
Just the thing for a winter’s gray day….
Stoned on sinsi and heading to the beach; what could be finer? Looking forward to part two, but it's weird that y'all call a Mother-in-Law's-Tongue" a "Snake Plant."
Luminous: Lovely to have you back, I hope you stay a while.

Linda S: Hey, thank you for making my post bilingual! For the most part, I get the message -- you might have to send me a transcript in case something is 'lost in translation.'

Bleue: Another french name ...cool. Yes, you get the picture, you've been there, yes, let's take the buzz along, shall we?

Algis: The secret life of plants is something we can all open to. Glad you like Charlene. ;)

Sirenita: Yes, a kindred spirit here awake to alive breathing plants with stories to tell. Just open those doors of perception and "wham, bam, thank you, ma'am". Time lapse is great!
asian rein: Hello, tr ig's friend and dreamer extraordinaire, thanks for stopping in. Ah, the seventies, thing seemed much easier then ...

AKA: Hey, those Ramblers were square and cool at the same time!
Where's your story, huh?

tr ig: I was concerned, ya know, that you might not see this since it was your OC and all, or maybe it was Zanelle's ... I forget. You may have started something but you certainly made me resurrect fond memories. ;)

Nana: Yup, here in the Canadian backwoods, we call those plants both. And damn, you know, much of those beautiful beaches are inaccessible now, but more about that in Part 2. Thanks for coming along.

James: The pressure is on now for the second part, isn't it? Hope it doesn;t fall short of expectations, now. I will post it tomorrow. We've had one heck of a snowstorm overnight and it creates the perfect day to fine tune Charlene's adventures. Thanks for sharing your tanning oil memories. I can smell it, can you?
Hey, you split this story in two just when I was getting into it: you’re harshing my buzz, maaaaan ;-)

Two things I must highlight:
-“smoked up”: there’s a phrase I haven’t heard in some time.
- “aqua blue Rambler”: Yep, it’s the 70s.

“I’m an alligator …”
There seems to be, to me anyway, a hesitation in the naration, as if the voice that is telling the story wants to let lose and say more, but is afraid. It is just a vibe that I get from the pace of the sentences.
Excellent! All I ever got was the munchies.

Lezlie
Yeah, i can smell it, it is one of my elemental smell-memories.
Baby oil, then 'tropical' suntan oil, then later, much later,
all the safe new stuff, sun protection so intense
that ya gotta lay out there for 8 hours
to get a 20 minute tan..arg...


dont worry about the pressure for part two to be good.
sure, it would make our days, tomorrow, a bland sunday..
sure, we would recognize the genius behind the new avatar
of well-seasoned galhood (forgive me..i am in a mood..)...
sure it could be just the thing to bring all your friends
here to share stories and complements and loving kindness..
but..
it is not something you should stress about...
hope that helped............
the Rambler, the beach, not having a care or a pain - drugs are wasted on the young
Bowie could be the mother of the bride at The Trailer Park Boys wedding episode
What a nice trip of a story.
Pot and David Bowie. Perfect combination...unless it's the first time high, I could see David Bowie being waay too weird for a first time high....although he did show up in your head, after all, maybe you're a natural. : )
Summers on Lake Erie! I have some memories there too.
*sigh and smile*
I love that the plants let you see them move...they won't do that for many...
(oh, just kidding. maybe.)
Those things that smolder can sometimes be so lovely...gaping holes notwithstanding...
Ramblers and walking everywhere ... oh yes ... I remember this ...
Checking in and thanking you for your read and comments. It snowed buckets here last night; time to go shovel ...
Cool little beat. It's a good dance and the leaves can sway to it.

Ziggy played guitar, he played it left hand.

Do the walls have ears, the hills have eyes?

I do know that plants prefer Beethoven, Bach and Rachmaninov over Megadeath, Motorhead and Iggy Pop. But who doesn't like David Bowie, right?

Sensimilla makes you make no sense, and it's full of those skunky scents and a dime bag costs a lot more then ten cents.

This is the end of the innocence.

Those who know, know.
Those who don't know, will never know.
And that's how I know what I know, you know?

--r--
Art James is rubbing off.
Whoa. What a trip. I like to think that these kinds of moments -- of relatively innocent experimentation and discovery -- are still possible in today's times.
Scarlett, I grew up within walking distance of Lake Erie. I've seen it shine, scowl and look downright nasty! When will you be in town? I'm 3 hours away.
Hey folks, sorry I ran out of steam responding here but some of you came along and read the 2nd part. I have responded there. A few I missed so ...

DH Austin: I appreciate your feedback. The space I am writing it form is that of a somewhat self-conscious 16 years, so I'm glad that came through, if that's what you are referring to. Otherwise, let's just say there is a fine line between public and private for some of us and it can be a tight rope to walk. Maybe what you are sensing is more caution than fear. At times, I do feel cautious writing but not fearful.

Oh Lezlie: I've had my shared of the Munchies too! I think they keep convenience stores in business ...

anna: Nice to share the memories. Ramblers and walking everywhere; a much more relaxed pace.

Bell(e): I'd like to think "relatively innocent experimentation and discovery" are still possible so too. And it doesn't have to include drugs either ...

dunniteowl: Like the plants, I prefer almost anything to Megadeath of Motorhead. I'm good with Iggy, though. ;)
a dancing plant!! and then the little teeny ones in the video did a bit of shaky-shake too - i was imagining there was music playing for them, so it fit even better. great story, scarlett ,and a terrific compilation. (i'm ignoring the burned-coat part since that wasn't nearly as groovy.) :)
Hey, Apologizing for the missing words, left out and extra letters ... and otherwise misshapen sentences in these comments, I'm blaming them on my dentist. Meh ...

femme: Thing 'bout Charlene, is thanks to the burnt coat she didn't take to a cancer stick career at that point in her life. She was stupid enough to wait and start later. Hey, I imagined music in the video too, we were, like, on the same **wavelength** (wo)man. Appreciate you coming by after your busy weekend. xo
Sorry I'm late to read your piece, Scarlett. The title and tags are lost on me, but I liked your writing. Maybe I can blame the rest on the flu I'm suffering. On to part two. Or bed.
R♥