Monday, March 4, 2013

The Great Bioligist....



I really don't know what it was about me and authourity but the two didn't always see eye to eye......I was not a bad rebellious type....no....more of a Rebel-Lite as it were.....I would just point that sharp stick at authority until it barks back ....I wanted to see where the threshold was...today..not so much........I think over the years I have learned.....sometimes to a greater and a lesser degree .....to not always challenge "The Man.."....for sometimes he is actually right.....

I was in grade 11, circa 1975....it was a good year for rebellion......Now I don't want it to appear that my life is just one big drug addled romp...but for certain there was a year or 2 or 3 where that was the case...afterall it was 1975......

It was Spring report card day....I was skipping out of Biology as I knew the grade I was to receive would be mediocre...."why show up at your own funeral if you don't have to.." I always say...(Actually I never say that but having said that now makes me think....hmm...not a bad saying...maybe I will say that more often......but I digress...)

Anyways....I was skipping out....hanging in a car in the school parking lot with two other "Heads"......Mike "Indian" DeMontmorency and Gene Drew....( Gene had a nickname...what it was escapes me at this moment in time...) ....Mike made the observation...."Hey those look like Narcs that just drove by....." Mike was always good at picking up the clues...me.....not as quick......

Before I thought anything more about it I looked up to see two plainclothes cops standing on either side of the car.....they tapped on the windows.....Mike rolled the window down....

"Guess you boys smoke a lot of Pot eh...?" asked the drivers side Narc.....Now how is it I knew these guys were Narcs...... because A) They asked a dumbass question like that....I mean it was 1975...we all had long hair and we were skipping out....not exactly Sherlock Holmesian deduction skills.....and B) They wore big collared polyester leisure suits....presumably to blend in with their surroundings......

Shit I thought.......I was packing......although no one called it packing in those days....in fact we did not have a name for packing....but for what its worth lets just say...I was packing...the odd thing is I remember what I was packing "it" in....my parents had just finished renovating the bathroom ..(this is the renovation where they put in wall to wall carpet in the bathroom...who does that..?...men miss....that's all I have to say on that issue....) and they had changed the toilet roller holder from collapsible chrome tube with the inner spring to a natty brass roll holder dewdad thing....

I liked the simplicity of design of the chrome toilet paper roll tube thing (is there a name for this item...?) and it had served us well with many spins of the roll since the mid 50's .....anyways...I liked the original tube design......I remember as a kid, while sitting on the toilet I would dismantle the toilet paper holder and take off the roll...I would then push the 2 ends of the tube in on each other compressing the inner coiled spring and then letting it leap like some cornered chrome snake/toilet thingy from my opened grip....boing.....

That said......what I liked the most about this tube was that if I took out the spring it made the perfect device to carry my stash of weed and hash....

I also figured that if I was ever pulled over by the Police and searched they would see that I only had a chrome toilet paper tube in my pocket which of course....would not draw any undue attention...........apparently I was wrong....

The cop spoke up again...." I said...I guess you boys smoke a lot of Pot eh....?" ...Once again it did not take Starsky and Hutch type powers of deduction to figure this out by hey...lets play along...

"Ahh...us ..Officer..?....Umm...no...."........I was about as convincing as Clinton had been claiming he did not have sexual relations with Monica Lewinsky....I still like Clinton...is that a character flaw...?

" So I guess you boys wouldn't mind stepping out of the car then would you...?" From the cop this of course was more of a command than a question but I figured I was in no postion to argue about Miranda rights and other Geneva convention issues.....(I also remember as a small kid...maybe 7 or 8....why I remember this now I don't know...but as a small kid we would play War....War was just a bunch of kids shooting fingers and sticks at other kids...making..kachung, kachung...rat-a-tat-tat noises as we shot imaginary bullets at each other........one side of the neighborhood boys being the Nazi's and the other The Americans....In this classic game of good and evil....if you were an American kid and were captured by the Bosch you always claimed your rights under The Geneva Convention.....I thought about this as I got out of the car....

"Ok boys...empty your pockets..."...Shit I thought....hmmm...wonder if they will buy the old toilet paper roll holder story......

"Whats that...? I looks like you're packing drugs......" so much for the Home Depot excuse.....

Placing the stash on the front hood of the car they opened up the toilet paper roller....." looks like we got Mary Jane Bob...yup we got us some marygeewanna..."

"Good work Pete...."......grunted the other cop


"Ok son...in the car......" ....I was shown into the backseat of the police cruiser.......now if you have ever been in the backseat of a Police car you know there are no door handles....this of course caused some panic in my peabrain as I worried what would happen if on the way to the copshop we flipped the car and skidded off into a fast flowing river...well the cops up front would be able to roll down their side windows as the car plunged into the icy depths....freeing themselves from the sinking cruiser ....all the while I would be fated to drowning...unable to open the door or roll down the windows of the backseat.....I spoke up...

" Hey wait...what if we roll into the river...?" I asked.......They looked at me as if I was from Mars...." What...?"

"Never mind..." I said....the reality of the true situation finally dawning on me...

They drove me home....as a "Juvie" I was too young for the slammer...however the fate was just as bad.....Mom....

That night was pure hell.....tears, accusations, confrontations......my mother was in full menapausal stride.....frightening.....(shudder..) ..I'd rather be chased by a serial killer.....

The next day I went to school.....not knowing what was ahead of me for that day....I was nervous....would I be expelled....?.would the school administartion feel my pain...(they had met my Mother earlier in the year...they must know...) ....?

First class of the day was Biology...the very same class I had skipped out of...only to be arrested......I knew this could not be good...

The biology teacher...a Mr. Bekkers was a South African transplant....A Transvaal Transplant.......probably a former mercenary I thought or perhaps at the least...a one time slave owner.....

He did not like me....

I entered the class and took my seat......I could feel all 30 pairs of eyes upon me.....it was uncomfortable.....

The biology class was held in a "portable"....a self contained 1 room building trucked onto the school grounds and dropped there in order to accomodate the bubble of the baby boomers......

"Graham...!"....Not quite a yell....more of a "fingers on the chalkboard" tone....."Graham.....how dare you get arrested while skipping out of my class....I do not care what it takes, but I will have you removed from this course..."....

I wondered if there was any room for negotiation on this point....hmm....

" While we all wait for your eminent trot to purgatory you are no longer welcome or allowed to partake in regular biology class activiities...as such...you will move into the back storage room until I can rid myself of you....Get into the backroom...NOW!"

Apparently my hopes for a negotiated settlement were somewhat dim......

Into the backroom I went....shuffling my books and carrying my ever ubiquitous Adidas Sports bag.....like all fads ...the year 1975 saw to it that everyone worth their salt owned either an Adidas or Puma sports bag...it was a sign of prestige...I suppose it was the I-pod of its day.....

There I sat in the backroom....quietly thinking about committing social suicide......surrounded by what seemed like one of the great hidden repositories of pyrex tubes, flasks, beakers and pippettes.....it was going to be a lonely , lonely day.......

Just as Nature does not like a vacuum, being a teenager requires that idle hands become the devils work.......I thought.....hmmm.....how do I turn this sack of lemons into lemon-aid.....?

Looking around all I could see was miles of aisles of Pyrex....an empty Adidas bag and an hour of idle hands......

Hmmm....I thought...what the hell could I do with Pyrex......Eureka...!

I realized that with every stormy cloud there was the inevitable silver lining.....aside from helping Madame Curie discover radium Pyrex tubes, beakers etc make for a first rate water pipe for smoking pot.....Bonus...

My rabbit-like brain went into twitch....silently as I could, as I was only 1 thin wall away from from my arch nemesis, Bekkers....I know I thought...I will put together the largest hookah I can with all of this deluxe Pyrex.....assemble it first and then break it down and steal it away in my Adidas bag..... I began to pull down the Pyrex....big beakers, little beakers, flasks, tubes, stoppers glass rods......

I then sat at the table in the room and began a quiet assembly line....Beaker, stopper, pipe another beaker, tube, stiopper....another large test tube, stopper...oh and this pencil sized hollow glass rod will make for the most deluxe mouth piece...I will just....push...it...through...this....stubborn....rubber....stopper..and I will be .....just...about...done...and....Snap!!!

The thin rod snaps in half under my pressure to get it into the rubber stopper...revealing a wickedly sharp end...all of which impales itself on and totally passes through the flesh of my right index finger.......Blood spurted ...."Fuck!!"...I screamed.....as I grabbed my finger..." fuck, fuck, fuck...fuck...ow..fuck..."....As a side note I think I work in profanity like Van Gogh worked in Oils...every calling has an artist....but I digress...

"Fuck....ow...Fuck.."....The door from the classroom flung open.......looking like Scarlet Ohara in Gone With the Wind stood Joe Bekkers.....(ok maybe Scarlett without the billowing dress and stuff...but that door thrown open and utter despair and shock registered on his face.......again I apologize for digression but it seemed appropriate.....perhaps not...

There he stood..." GRAHAM!!!!".."What the hell are you....."....

I mustered up a tear..." I..I...I....put this gllas thing through my finger..."...holding the bloody digit up so he could see...

He looked at the entire tableau....the thousand of dollars of Pyrex...the open and empty Adidas bag......the ready built Pyrex Hookah.....the bloody digit......

He started to shake........he was trembling with anger........he wanted to starngle me...I knew it........I held up the bleeding and skewered finger as both my defense and an apology............"Bleeding..." I said.....

"Get the hell out of my class and get your backside up to the nurse......."

I moved with as much grace as I could muster.........he accompanied me to the Nurse.....not another word was spoken between the two of us........I also realized...my dream of being a great bioligist was never to be......

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