BSC, CA – I knew the weedend [weed or sesh weekend] was going to be memorable when the valley seemed to not want me to leave town. Or perhaps it was trying to do a different route up, you know, why mess with success? So instead of coming to LA early enough to run a couple of errands, I pulled into Union Station after 4:30 with just enough time to comfortably catch my connecting train to my destination in Chatsworth. Already I had learned two lessons for future reference [rewards, 2].
After arriving at the 420Nurses HQ, the buzz or vibe felt was heightened, no doubt due to Head Nurse Chacha and her very able staff of 'green cross' Smurfettes. They remind you of Santa's Elves if the elves were MMJ, female, and social. Vendors were still setting up and there was a line to get in. Not seeing the usual door crew or being on the vendors list, I waited patiently before Chacha appeared almost like magic a moment later through all the hubbub.
As I circulated around to the vendors there, stacks of #NoOn64 [English], #NoPorLA64 [Spanish] coasters were distributed to those going to other cannabis events, which are many now after harvest. In fact, there was another Black List Secret Sesh happening the next day that Summer Rain had the 'ins' to. I thought about it, as free goodies were to be given away amidst pot-bottom prices, but to be truthful, I had already made out like Robin in the hood [$25-1/8]. This adventure was going to be a 41-hour [no sleep] turnaround anyway. Sleeping outdoors in L.A. can be hazardous to your belongings.
and outside had its thing going on.
Besides myself as speaker, a game of Twister, [say what?] was played to award door prizes.
After the night got started officially, the office mgr. briefed me that Jeanette Perez was coming to speak for the Friends of Prop 215 organization. In a way, I was relieved because I had just gotten my prepared speech reproduced on paper by Jimmy, the 3rd member of the core organization and IT Administrator. Plus in my heart I knew you just don't get one of the Hardy Boys [a reference for you old stoners]. Sure enough, her pardner in time, Patrick Moore, also showed up with Jeanette. Three of the 5 Pot Goonies were there, I relaxed a bit and volunteered to go last ['ride trail'] in speaker order.
|Jeanette Perez, far left; Patrick Moore, far right*|
We were a hit, receiving nice goody bags from said office mgr. at the end of the night. Though the event ended at around 11PM, I walked back toward the first of my conveyances to L.A. proper, Union Station, around 1, a bit dazed and confused but totally thrilled. Compared to how the day began, getting into Riverside had changed my earlier Friday the 13th luck which began with a late Hemet bus to start the day.
Getting to the station and finding one bathroom closed for cleaning and the other one with a busted pipe, plus the station closing down from 1- 4AM, I started to feel like that earlier luck had returned, but as they say in Hollywood, “Never let them see you sweat.” I headed out a different station exit in a different direction that usual. Getting to this new corner ['new ground' for you esoteric readers], I spotted a familiar sight shunned since my label GMOs start-up days – Lenny's? No, Denny's.
Looking around the partially-filled restaurant after the needed bathroom break, I grabbed one of the few clean tables in the back. Across the wide aisle from me sat a couple of guys, one of which was asleep in his seat, but still wearing my No On Prop 64 tee, a guy sat down two booths in front of me and a conversation soon started. I sensed a kindred spirit somehow. Later, as we stood on the train platform, he showed me where to stand in order to medicate unobserved.
I walked back into the outside city street realizing that things had worked out after all. Now I time to do my other errands in L.A., starting with getting a new pair of Muk Luks, crouched Afghan house boots, before the early train left for Riverside.
Coming back to the train station later with more accomplished than at first planned, 30 lbs of flyers lighter from the night before, and of course slightly glazed, I got my ticket and walked up to the platform area again when someone said, “Hey! Don't I know you?”
Coming back into the moment, I started to run the memory banks, but then he added that he stayed at Marty and Lavonne's, and I caught up, though he had been wearing a hat when I met him. He had been stranded in L.A. for four days. [And this is why people are afraid of L.A.]
Larry, aka, Twista Jaye, had rolled up to Venus Beach to party for a day. That day rolled into two, a diversion from the original plan – not good. Arriving back downtown long after nightfall, Twista Jaye decided to crash downtown somewhere around City Hall so he could catch an early train back towards this valley. Sometime during the night, he rolled over off the bag he was using for a pillow, the same one he put all his things into in order to sleep on a flat surface, and awoke with no bag. Hence, you don't fall asleep outdoors in L.A. unless you hide yourself. You also wrap your arms around the drawstrings [if you have any] and cat-nap it.
I packed his bowl. I thought though, since he was coming back to the same valley, once we got to R-side, we would both be stuck, unless....
Yep, yep. I called the Skipper, pot goonie #1, Letitia Pepper, who came to the rescue of us both. All's well that ends swell. [Rewards including lead-in pictured shirt - priceless]
(*- the picture of Jack Herer appeared at the same time from the archive file upload as the picture with Janette, Valerie, Me, Patrick beneath it. Except for one thing, the group shot was halfway down the archive wall of pictures; Jack Herer's picture showing the timepiece display of 4:20 is picture #4 on the wall. A sign??? The 'typo' was left in as my testimony that this happened - Ed)