My early childhood memories come in smoke-filled visions. Most nights, I would sit between them on our couch watching TV while they passed joints to each other. I still can’t watch certain movies or shows without thinking of marijuana. Blazing Saddles, History of the World Part I (my parents loved Mel Brooks), The Jerk, Miss America pageants and boxing matches. I also can’t look at album covers without thinking about pot. Before smoking they would go through their stash to pick out seeds and stems and they always did it on album covers. Next came the rolling, the smoking and finally the laughing.
My parents had an awful marriage. They weren’t very affectionate, argued a lot and even slept in separate beds in the same room. But on those nights, they came together and forgot about it all. Sitting between them in a cloud of smoke I was high too–on the togetherness. It was our own version of “family time” as dysfunctional as it was.
Georgette Gilmore, editor of Barista Kids, blogs about growing up at Good Stock.