The Rasta kissed his wife and children good-bye and started walking up the mountain path. After several hours, he came to a cavern and slid down the rope hanging over the side. About 30 feet down was the entrance to a cave. He swung in and walked toward a light about 100 feet ahead. Hearing the bubbling sound of a chalice, he followed the sound to its source and found the most ancient-looking Rasta he ever saw, drawing on a huge water pipe. The smell of the ganja was the strongest, sweetest aroma he had ever had the pleasure of inhaling.
It’s nice to have a ring to rely on, when you can’t figure out what mood you are in. The mood ring, a fascinating crystal when worn as a set in a ring, changes colors as it responds to your feelings and moods. These colors range from onyx or midnight black, through amber red, topaz yellow, jade green, and lapis blue to a brilliant sapphire or even violet blue. The secret of the stone's changeability is a chemically treated temperature-sensitive crystal bonded to quartz which responds to body heat.
The true story of America’s first legal marijuana smoker was chronicled in 1979 by Michael J. Weiss. For the first time in digital format, here is his report on the first sit down with the Legend, Robert Randall, the first man to legally smoke pot in this country.
Long hair going down to the middle of his back, faded patched pants, beads and a psychedelic smile, he walked down the back roads of history, playing Sgt. Peppers Lonely Heart’s Club songs on a handmade wooden flute. He shunned dollars and material possessions, preferring flowers. He would often be seen hitchhiking and would always return your peace sign. He believed in free love, marijuana (which he held a religious sacrament) and peace on earth. He tasted of religious philosophies from eclectic Christianity to Mahayana Buddhism to the League for Spiritual Discovery. He was loved by children, hated by rednecks, featured in Hollywood films, such as Easy Rider, Godspell, The Big Lebowski, Zabriskie Pi. He became a familiar figure on the American Scene. And then quite suddenly, Jay Hippie, Esq., bright-eyed son of Joe Crewcut, disappeared.
“Whadaya mean, you don’t know if you should try it?” Jack screamed at his father. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get this stuff? Do you have any idea?”