Friday, July 18, 2014

Chill Dude, We be Vegging

The local saying used to be "Shake a tree in Acton and 10 nail bangers would fall out".  That may still be true if one shakes the right tree, but I think the wood butchers need to make room for the Pot Farmers.    Pick a tree to shake now days and you are likely to hear 10 Pot farmers whine about their vibe being rudely disrupted, comments on disappearing Chi, or just that all that branch disruption is upsetting their day.  Some will even insist their whole Life's Cart is about to turn over.  Or...... a Doob will fall out of the tree tied to a note that says, "Chill Dude, We be Vegging".



My family, directly related and almost directly related has been living in this town since the mid to late 1950s.  My first memories are of visiting Aunt Helle and Uncle Herb at their farm "Half Way Up" in 1961.   My parents settled here in 1966.  I picked Acton for my last stand in 1980.  Married, raised a kid, and got old real fast.  Well, now it seems the "old' thing happened over night or something close.

Anywhoo.............. Point being is I have been in and around Acton, Maine for quite a few years.  One could even start by counting the decades and then add some change when they closed in on the final number of years I have been familiar with Acton and it's going ons.

So why did I not know that Acton, Shapleigh, Newfield, Parsonsfield and every other nearby municipality is chock full of Pot Farmers?  Oh I knew there were a few here and there.........well I imagined there were I guess.  As it turns out, seems there is one or two on every corner and every other house in between.

The answer seems at first simple but when looked at through THC sunglasses, the answer seems something else entirely, even if it isn't.  The simple answer is I spent 35 years minding my own business and the last 2 or 3 getting nosy.  I did not have to be too nosy either.  Worst kept secrets are often the best ones to have I guess.

I grew Pot back in the day.  My first effort was an indoor crop crammed into the corner of my room in the apartment I shared with Debbie and Ka-Lee, two college women who took me in when I was unceremoniously booted out on my ass from the New Dorm at Towson State College in 1973 or so.

Even though that first crop only gave us headaches, the fire had been ignited.  I kept at it when I had some time and space.  My last crop was the year my daughter turned three in the 1986.  Figured there was no sense in throwing my bad habits in her face and warping her young mind, so I quit the cultivation racket.

What was I thinking?  Seems growing pot here 'bouts is just another vegetable in the garden. Next to the Peas, cuz they come early and leave room for the MJ to vegg out late in the summer before the buds pop in late August.

I can definitely feel the wind changing direction.  America I think is ready to face the fact that a rather large percentage of the population enjoys the effects of Ganja.  Marijuana is now embedded into our cultural soul as deeply as likker, illegal sex and evading taxes.  It is part of who we are.  It is well past time to admit it.

Later.......................................


1 comment:

Ol'Buzzard said...

Time for Maine to make it legal.
the Ol'Buzzard