In poverty circles amounst the down and in “five week months” when its legislated, not 4 weeks, but five weeks, till you get your cheque and comforts allowance, which comes in january and in summer it becomes particularly difficult for the undeserving poor who live from hand to mouth.
It is always particularly gratifying when what karmically goes around comes around in these stressfull final days of the month in the cycle of poverty, unfortuneately it seems often the case that what “comes around” doesent “go around” ever fast or often enough. The rational seems to be the poor can pick up more bottles to recycle on beaches in summer or pick fruit off trees and since they get a bonus in December to buy presents for kids they can coast through January.
This is why Flash who was picking up roaches that had dropped on the rug to see if they were viable, was so greatly surprized and amazed that the newly married Canadian same sex couple, Ice and Tiger,whom he had been for a few months palming off with what pot he could spare for their continued involvement in running the pot tv chat server, had reached a contract agreement with Marc by which he was compensating them for all their work on the Emery servers. They wanted to take Flash out on this occasion and share the wealth, sort to speak,by taking him for an evening at Don’s Da Kine Cafe on Commercial Drive, across the street from Ken Hayes, drug war refugee from California, Entheobotanical smart shop “The Spirit Within” and Bubbleman’s Melting Point Gallery, 1111 Commercial Drive, near the original authentic Italien cafe “Joe’s” where artists poets and would be famous people, sip capachinos and debate European Football statistics and the Raison d’Etre.
Jill, Flash’s estranged wife, had messaged Flash that the world’s foremost cannabis journalist and photographer, Pete Brady, had been spotted at the popular new smoke friendly cafe’ and Flash wondered if perchance he might run into him on this occasion. Sure enough, on the blistering late summer evening, Pete brady sat on the step in the smoking room his chest bare and reddened recovering from the effects of a powerful budder hit presented by the BudderMan at who’s side was a silver tray, cylindrical funnel and blow torch. Now, Flash had had Budder before on several occasions and knew from one toke it’s power in lightening the head. Unfortunately though Flash is a Cigarette Smoker as well. Cannabis is about the only healthy thing he does for himself. He knows that nicateen and cigarettes act to constrict passageways in the lungs and cling to air sacs like sticky sap. Cannabis when included in the western pharmacopia was primarily known as an Expectorant because it expands in your lungs opening clogged passage ways and causing you to bring up any mucous or phlem which is lying on your lungs like mullen. Flash knew that he could not escape a cacophany of coughing so severe it would disturb those around him, causing them to be concerned for him, but nevertheless,in the face of invitation of Pete Brady and the BudderMan, and wanting to secure free Budder hits for his first timer friends… Flash prepared himself to suck up the healthy dollop BudderMan had prepared him in the face of his bravado. Flash was not greedy, but he did not want to seem ungratefull either. Nothing is more disapointing for the observer than to see the Budder recipent, at five dollars a hit, pull out early and the knives give off a precious plume of wasted smoke when pulled away. It seemed to enter his lungs pleasingly and he exhaled it gracefully with a french finese through his flared nostrils. There was a momentary lapse of perfect peace and tranquilty where he folded his hands like a buddah. Then the wiff began its expansion through his lungs and he knew enough to rise with as much calm as he could muster, gently let himself out the door, and made a bee-line to the washroom to hack up pieces of his tattered lung and wash back of his neck and face with cool water. There is a safety station set up just outside the smoke room door.
There an industrial fan blows cool air in your face and a trash receptical stands next to it to deposit your klenexes and paper towels. Flash was breathing and recouperating infront of the godsent fan when Pete came out of the smoke room having recovered his t shirt, and put his hand on Flash’s heaving shouldier and said “Look it’s not the pot causing you to cough like that. Its the cigarettes, and you know that don’t you?” Flash nodded addmita between heaves “Let me tell you something now, that might help you,” Pete Brady, Flash’s mentor, continued. “If you were walking down West Hastings and someone grabbed you tried to force poison down your throat.You would fight them off and stop them right? With all your might?
Well these corportions they take your hand, they stick it deep in your pocket, pull out your money, trade it for radioactive poison and You stick it down your throat!” “Flash doesn’t want to hurt Flash does he?” “Noooo,” Flash agreed. “Take your money, go see the movie ‘The Corporation’ then see ‘Farenheight 911’ You wont want to smoke! Pete Brady advised his protege.” When Flash, fully recovered, went back into the smoking room his two friends had still not availed themselves of the proffered Budder. So, again he had to raise the issue and step up to the plate to lead by example. This time they followed suit and were soon all three outside the cafe clearing their lungs but about to have a cigarette nonetheless. This time it was the wholistic shamen, who is usually filming everything, that took Flash asside, persuaded him not to light up. It seemed the Budder hits had made him Flash less likely to crave a sticky corporate death stick. The healer recomened hemp oil for Flash’s Mom turning 83 with poor eyesight and for Flash himself. Pete stayed for a couple more hours repeatedly and dedicatedly photographing the Budder under the changing light of the sunset and offering Flash journalistic advice from somone who had been around the world filming and promoting legalization and civil disobedience and had already been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt. Flash did not escape without receiving, not two, not three, but total of 4 Budder hits because Tiger had to come down to drive could receive no more. When he arrived home he was not sure that he did not have heat stroke and had to lay down on the couch on the front deck have his roomates administer him cold coke a cola with ice. Tiger and Ice still couldnt drive the rest of the way home till they came down with coffee and when Steve showed up at midnight looking for a place to crash Flash didnt even ask him if he had a toke just gave him a blanket to crash and passed out forcefully after taking bed time meds. Now, gentle reader, as if that wasn’t enough Karmic payback I wont bore you with more, but, next day at the crack of noon, George Bailey showed at the door. Steve then smoked a couple joints for the use of the couch and George insisted on taking Flash out for Lunch and to Da Kine cafe. Pete Brady was there again and John Conroy came out of the washroom to hand Flash some paper towels to have on hand for the Budder hoots. Looked like the Advanced Nutrients folks were having a meeting with the staff in the backroom and Carol,again, wouldn’t let them pay for their Budder and gave Flash a break on the price of a quarter of medical grade “Grape,” that would turn the Mayor off cambernet. Flash could tell you more about how across the street at the Melting Point Gallery George and he were treated to bubblehash which is slightly less devastating to Flash than the hot Budder off knives, and got to chat up a Rasta couple from back in Sacramento. But, that would just come off like he was bragging when what he really learned was when you cast your seeds of freedom upon the waters they comes in with the tides.