Looking round this swirling sea
All that bubbles up to be
Opportunities arise
Come to punish, come to prize
When it comes, time to choose
Realize that it’s all true
————————————
I’ve never been one to put much stock into things like premonitions and signs n such.
Almost every time I’ve taken LSD, my “trip” has tended towards being all analytical about the physical and social world before me, rather than speculations of the spiritual and/or looking for hidden meanings and messages. Now, don’t get me wrong… I haven’t done a whole lot of acid in my life (I could probably count the times if I really thought about it) and it’s been many, many years since the last time. Even though this was 1980 and I was twenty one years old, I was not exactly a well-experienced drug user. Compared to many I knew and occasionally hung out with, I was a “lightweight”.
Except of course for weed. But then… weed was like candy back then.
All that being said, throughout this one trip I went on that weekend, down the wrong road… there were plenty of “signs” that now seem almost premonitory. Especially once the two hits of purple barrel my friend and I dropped back in Iowa City kicked in, during the return ride in Guy’s little sports car.
That stuff was strong, and really “speedy” too.
Wow! Tripping hard while trapped in the back seat of a very small, very fast-moving car at night for at least two hours… My acid-addled brain had to process this very wrong road in very short order. “What the HELL had I got myself into?” “Who the HELL were these people?” “Who the HELL did I think I was?”
“Shit Shit Shit Shit!!”
Getting out of Guy’s little sports car was like being released from a pressure cooker. Our trip suddenly exploded and we then had to get right into my Holsum Bread Company van and… drive?
Ha!
My friend and I were literally screaming at each other (in joyous relief) once we were finally away from the amazingly nervous energy that had been oppressing us for the last six to eight hours. At first we drove (I can’t remember which of us was driving) in an almost unconscious frenzy to get away from where we’d just been. Get far enough away to breathe. We then pulled over and just… did… that…
Breathe…
“Dude! So what was all that with the way Guy had to show us his guns before we left?” “Yea, and how about the way his supplier wouldn’t even meet with us once we got to the house?” “Shit yea! and Guy had to go into that other room to make the deal and leave us with those goons.” “Who were those guys?” “Who were those guys?”
Pulling out the bag of little purple pills we had just paid over $1,500 for, my friend and I only then began to get the idea that we were in something waaayyy over our heads. It was still dark and we were beginning to come down a bit. But not much. There was plenty of trippyness yet, to take us down this wrong-ish but beginning to make some kinda sense-ish road.
But first, it was time for some good ol’ acid induced cool visuals on some properly trippy thing to kill some time and reset our vibe. As we were on the back roads of southern Minnesota farm country, we found just the thing.
Bug zapper.
It was (for some strange reason) a big bug zapper hanging next to the mailbox in front of some farmhouse. Who knows why the farmer had put it there, but we sat watching it in total fascination as it went on busily zapping bugs for… who knows how long? It was starting to get light when we came out of the slight trance we’d been in, and we giggled a bit to imagine what that farmer might have thought if he’d actually seen our nondescript white van parked in front of his property for so long.
“He probably thought we were Feds or something.” We said, and the mood was really getting better so my friend decided (or was it me?) that we should drop another hit. You know… to top off our buzz.
Now, we were having fun. My friend is a really energetic and positive guy in general and it was so fun to be tripping with him. He did stuff like balance in the middle of our empty van (with no seats in back but windows all round) and pretend he was surfing. Holding out his arms, he wavered back and forth, leaning with the changing road as I drove. This and other stuff he’d come up with (like driving backwards for about ten miles… wow!) had the effect of distracting me from all the stress I’d feel when thinking of what we’d done and what we still had to do and… the fact that the road I was on, was still very wrong.
And then some premonitory stuff started up again. I can’t remember who it was, and it seems a bit silly now, but… but one of us started noticing the birds again.
When we’d first started on this trip. On our way down to meet Guy, we hit some birds with the van (actually it seemed like they were hitting us) on at least three occasions. In our then still naive excitement we joked that the birds were trying to keep us from going. Like they were trying to tell us, “No! Don’t do it. Do go!” Now that the deed was done. We’d done and did it. The birds were now flying away from us. They wanted nothing to do with these two… partners in crime. We were pariahs on this wrong road now and they meant to stay the hell away.
This, and the cold, hard reality of approaching Rochester again (and I’m sure the fact that the acid was now wearing off and… we were so very tired) Our mood was quite sober as I pulled into the SuperAmerica station to gas up. My friend went in to get sodas and pay for the gas as I started pumping it into the van. “Wow! looks like we actually got away with it” I thought. Then I heard a voice from behind me.
“Brian?”
A very familiar voice, but my mind was not allowing me to recognize it at all. Oh no. I began turning around toward the voice as it spoke again.
“You’re up kind of early Brian.”
It was my Dad. It was very early and he was getting gas and going to do… something, somewhere. I had no idea. I can’t remember now if this was a weekday or what. I must have been a vision of total chaos though. After the trip I’d just had. And to see… my Dad. Of all people. I was completely stunned.
And just then my friend was coming out of the station. He saw me looking at my Dad and he saw that stunned look on my face. And simply couldn’t help himself. He actually fell to the ground, laughing hysterically.
This was the end of my wrong road.
And a very right end it was.
—————————————-
I’m going to continue with some final thoughts in tomorrow’s Daily Brian.
Till then…
