When I was about 15, or in a galaxy far, far away, I got introduced to copping a Dubage, (or smoking marijuana to the layman). I grew up in a rural area in Missoula, Montana. Now in the 70's, with all things considered, Missoula was pretty cool. We had the University of Montana, which hosted students from all over the planet. So it was kind of like the song, Freaking at the Freakers ball, by Dr. Hook, who I saw at the Field house in Missoula about 1974. We had the Iron Butterfly, a head shop, and the hippie idea was in full bloom. I went to a Catholic school and did the Catholic things a traditional conservative family did. We had a neighborhood gang, kind of like Spanky and the boys, not the bad kind, although we did raid a garden or two in the neighborhood on warm summer nights. There was about 8 of us that ran together. As I recall, Marijuana was not only a wonderful escape, but a way of life. Long hair, Rock& Roll, Hot Rods and High school girl. Granted things have changed. Some of us grow up and hold our memories dear. But, the rebel in us still longs for the good old days.
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