Freedom of Speech

The State of Connecticut legalized Ol’ Toby for us Ol’ Adults and places that sell Recreational Marijuana are starting to pop up around me.

Oh! Happy Day!

In fact, a place called Higher Collective is due to open on Bank Street on November 2nd. Be there or be square.

Anyway, getting used to this has been quite a trip.

I know, I know, I’ve been my Hubby’s “Caregiver” for years now, going over to CuraLeaf and picking up his Medical Marijuana. It’s not the same. I have to say that. It’s not the same. It’s good. Wonderful in point of fact but much different from waltzing in to buy something for yourself without a single hassle in the world.

I finally got to do that a few weeks ago. It was my birthday–57!– and I bought my first Legal Recreational Marijuana. Ever. Well, was there a better time to try it? I think not.

And…ya know…with this legalization thing…our gardening took on a whole different meaning this year. I am looking very forward to trying my hand at oils and tinctures. Honestly, this is a real Dream Come True for someone like me. I’m just…giddy.

Many years ago, the State of Connecticut banned (for a short time) items one would find in any Tobacco Shop back in the 70s and 80s but they were a little different being made of glass with swirly colors and all. I used to love to look at them in the Tobacco Village in the New London Mall when I was a kid. I loved to go in there. There was just something about the scent of all those fancy–and not fancy–tobaccos mingling together that I found comforting.

Then one day, the colorful little pieces of glass were gone. I was just a kid. I asked where they went and was told they were now illegal. I didn’t understand.

Fast forward a few years and few legal struggles later, these items came back to Tobacco Shops. They had a little sign with them that always always always read: For Novelty Use Only.

I didn’t know what that meant. I was glad to see the colorful glass again.

Around 16 I started smoking pot and…OH! THAT’S WHAT THESE THINGS HAVE BEEN FOR ALL ALONG! DAMN! What an idiot I’ve been. I’ll be the first to tell you that, for as smart as a whip as I was at that age I was extremely naive in several departments.

My boyfriend at the time started taking me to what is affectionally known as a Head Shop. Before we walked in, he looked me dead in the eye and firmly said: “Don’t say a word in here. Let me do the talking.”

I didn’t understand but…I love shopping so…..

We walked through the door and all the colorful glass was there! There was incense! What the hell is THAT? I didn’t know but it smelled great. There were all these awesome t-shirts and posters and jewelry and stickers and…why haven’t I ever been here before????

I was home.

He got what he wanted and I got a few trinkets. When we got back to the car I asked why I couldn’t say anything in there. I was informed there are certain words you cannot say in stores like that or you will get in trouble.

You must never say; bowl, bong, pipe, rolling papers…or anything like that. You may only point very directly, smile, and say: “I’d like to see that piece, please.”

That’s not a fucking joke. Think about it.

Ditched him. Met hubby. We went to the same Head Shop–for the longest time it was the only one anywhere near us, Old Glory is its name and I suggest you check it out if you’re up Old Saybrook way. For decades we have gone through the same routine; point very precisely and say “I’d like to see that piece, please”. This was usually followed by a long or short string or something like; “No, not that one, over to your left, no, more right, yes, that one.”

Today we decided we needed a new water bong. We haven’t had one in years and our lungs aren’t getting much better. We headed over to Northern Lights in Groton. Great place if you’re in the area. I haven’t been there in years and certainly not since Recreational Marijuana finally became A Thing. On our way over I looked at hubby and said: “Can we say it now? I mean, now that’s all legal and whatnot?”

He looked over at me and said he didn’t know but we’d soon find out.

We pulled into the spacious parking lot and waltzed into the store. Hubby walked up to the very nice man behind the counter and said: “I’m going to say something now and you tell me whether or not I can say it, ok?”

The very nice man looked a bit perplexed but said: “Ok.”

Hubby said: “Bong.”

The very nice man smiled and said: “Bong. Bong. Bong.”

We laughed.

It felt so good to just be able to say simple words like; Bong. Water pipe. Bubbler. Hookah. Steamroller. Resin. Pipe cleaner. One hitter. Weed.

Or even, honestly, just the word…pipe.

I’m not kidding…you couldn’t even say the word ‘pipe’ in a Head Shop.

I felt like I was finally being treated like an adult in this area. I had arrived.

We looked at quite a few BONGS and said the word proudly several times before we settled on one. Like I said I haven’t been in a Head Shop in a while. I was unaware of the ‘trends’. I did know I looked on Amazon last night, yes they have bongs but they’re ugly as hell. So were the first ones the nice man showed us.

Hideous.

Where’s my colorful glass? Where’s my handmade ceramic pieces? My Puff the Magic Dragon? (They didn’t have a single one…sigh.)

I mean most of them looked like someone Jerry Rigged a beaker they stole from the science lab.

Yuck.

One thing I’ve always loved about, what used to be known as, The Counter Culture, was the artistry and the colors. This shit looked like it rolled off an assembly line and I’m not settling for that. Not after all this time and after all the beauty and care I’ve seen go into these pieces.

When it comes to Bongs and glass bowls we have always had what I call “Nice Glassware” and intend to keep it that way. So, I find myself hoping that as technology creeps in and sales get bigger, that assembly line attitude doesn’t come with it.

It’s not just a function it’s a friend. One that, hopefully, sticks around for quite a while.

Here’s our new friend.

On the way home, I admit, we were a bit excited from our trip down Freedom Lane and from out of nowhere we just started singing to the tune of “Barbra Ann” (Or “Bomb Iran” which ever you prefer.”

Bong. Bong. Bong. Bongbongbong. Bong. Bong. Bongbongbongbong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Bongbongbongbongbah-gon..

LOL! Yeah, being married 37 years has some weird advantages.

When we got home and looked around I was asked: “Did you know it was going to match the living room or the jar of weed?”

I said: “Nope.”

Didn’t even think about it. Just a happy coincidence.

Before we go, I must recommend something to you in case you haven’t heard or have been living under a rock like I have. They now sell filters for your water bong. No lie. Nice little thing fits over the top and has a charcoal filter. It’s wonderful! And cheap. You really must try it. Here let me show you.

Yes, the black thing on the top. It’s awesome. Yes, I know, I can’t stop taking pictures of it or believing that I’m actually going to hit ‘post’ in just a few seconds for all the world to see! I’m literally jumping in my seat…no lie. LOL.

Did you know you can now hook your your vape up to your water bong? I had no idea. Next they’ll probably put Bluetooth on it and hook it up to your phone.

As for me, I’ll stay old school Happy Trippy Hippie.

Either way you choose, the nice man at Northern Lights will help you with a smile. Just walk up to him and say: Bong.