All three of them old enough to be grandfathers. All three having been in the entertainment business and household names for over 3 decades.
Tommy says he’ll roll the first joint because he was the first to come out in support of cannabis.
Willie said he’ll grab his lighter and his hempwick because cannabis has been an artistic muse for him for many years, and his musical career may have been different if it weren’t for the creative inspiration.
Morgan said he’ll get the ashtray and the hello neighbor because he would like to be respectful of other’s air quality and does not want to leave ash or paper behind.
Willie took the joint and lit it and found that a new song was right on the tip of his tongue, it was about freedom and liberty and the love humans have for living uncontrolled lives.
Tommy took one his patent Chong tokes and immediately found his dancing with the stars moves coming back, and his joints were loosened and his need to move was heightened.
Morgan took the joint and stared at it for a long while. It burned slowly up the side of the paper and he slowly looked up and said to the other two, “it’s truly appalling that there are people behind bars for doing the very activity we’re sharing between us right now”.
Tommy grinned from ear to ear, “I use the plant every day so that I don’t hold resentment in my heart for being locked up for selling glass. It’s good for curing cancer, but it’s also good for releasing negative shit that doesn’t serve. People smarter than me say that’s what causes cancer anyways.”
Willie feeling a little more than just a little self-conscious for having used cannabis all his life, in a personal and social manner, having smoked on the white house roof with more than one president that oversaw the perpetuation of the American Drug War, sat back in his chair feeling inspired to chord out his new tune and not get burdened by the slightly paranoid feeling of sitting with Tommy Chong who cured cancer with cannabis, and Morgan who is fighting fibromyalgia with cannabis.
“What’s up with this nervous feeling?” Willie’s introspective voiced asked. He was feeling as though this song was right there on his tongue but so far away. He found the joint coming back to him as he and Tommy made eye contact for a lingering moment.
“Why is Tommy smiling so broadly at me?” Willy was pulling the beautiful smoke back in to his lungs, emptying himself so these lyrics could fill his being. He passed the joint on to Morgan and it was apparent Morgan was on to is ill-at -ease.
Morgan exhaled through the hello neighbor. Peachy scent filled the space around them and the ice tea they had brought with lemon wedges was now feeling explicitly perfect.
Morgan watched Tommy take one of his patent gazing sessions with the end of the joint and wondered who among them would speak about Willie’s gentile nature being absent from the friendly sit down.
“Penny for your thoughts, Willy”. Morgan said with a sense of smile on his lips, trying very hard not to hammer his patent monotone line. “I’m not sure the song is what’s got you tied up, could be just the plant making me feel like I’m more intuitive to the emotions and positions of others”.
“No, you got it right. Something just popped up making it impossible to feel truly inspired with this song. I had it, and then it was gone”. Willie said. “This type of thing is what they use to blame weed for, making you forgetful, or un-inspired. I can’t disagree more. If inspiration is lost, then it’s not true inspiration or something more pressing is needing acknowledgement first.”
Tommy leaned forward with his glasses real low on his nose, looking straight at Willy’s eyes and feeling as though he was handing a microphone to a man who was about to say something everyone around the world needs to hear. Willy held his eye contact and smiled with pursed lips to take the joint and inhale his next formulation of words.
“I feel like there’s probably many of my fans who do not understand cannabis, and my music has not done enough to inform them. I feel like maybe I should have started eating cannabis a long time ago – maybe tried to educate myself on how I could help my lungs and my body recuperate from long time tobacco abuse. I’ve always smoked the herb and later vaporized because my lungs could not handle the burnt plant after my 2-3 pack a day cigarette habit.”
He pulled again on the joint and re-positioned his fingers on the edge so he could get the perfect air flow. Willy exhaled straight in to the room, forgetting the hello neighbor and he felt as though it helped him clear his chest and forehead area of pressure from feeling crummy in the company he found himself.
“I feel like I may be seen as a profiteer and a charlatan by the very people who’ve supported me as a musician, performer, and artist who may not support cannabis at all. I may also alienate myself from the cannabis activists because I have allowed a line of products to be branded in my name.” Willy sat back and passed the joint on to Morgan, working to offer a good angle to approach the shrinking vessel.
“I once did a song duet titled “Nothing Like Homegrown” and now I’m selling weed before most Americans can even think to grow it without living in fear of the government. I am not so sure I’ve made good decisions. I’ve written books on how to be happy, but perhaps I’ve been bushwacked by the conservative and religious trappings of country music? I’ve always supported legalization but I’ve never put capsules in my ass, never juiced it or eaten it for health. I am starting to resent my song “roll me up and smoke me when I die” because I’m starting to realize that smoking cannabis is about the least effective thing you can do with it. ”
“I’ve been inspired to collaborate with my friend Merle Haggard and create songs that would directly advocate for cannabis in front of my base fan-group – the conservative religious folks who live in rural areas and listen to country music primarily. This is something that brings me great joy to do, but it also comes at a price of backlash from people who don’t want me to be a spokesperson for something they feel is a social nuisance or an addictive substance.”
Tommy noticed that Willy was feeling better and had a looseness about him that was not apparent before. He made a last attempt to smoke the very dark resin on the back of the roach that is always strong and familiar on his palate. “I’m not 100% proud of everything I’ve done in the name of entertainment either. Much of my early work is chastised by the new clean cut crowd that doesn’t want to be associated with clichés about cannabis that I used freely. The scene back then was different though and you had to be mocking or it would be crushed by the system. Our jokes and scenes had to operate in a chamber that didn’t offend the government, but also was relevant to the counter culture. This is why I’m being asked to change my image or not be included in some of the activism organizations that I’m used to working with. A new generation of activist is starting to come to the front and they don’t like stoner clichés. Tommy took a big swig of his ice tea, noticing how the flavor of the tea changed with the lingering resinous residue left on his tongue from finishing the roach.
Morgan had been playing with the hempwick and wound it around his third finger lightly playing with his wick finger, “Willy, I would say your self-resentment is un-needed. You know that your fans love you and will continue to love you even if you come out to say you’re doing a 3-per-day cannabis coffee enema. The people that come out against you and your outspoken stance are not your real fans, friends, or supporters. If they see you getting more healthy at your age, maybe their eyes will open to the curative benefits of the plant. I have a nutritionist that can help you find foods you like to eat and cannot taste the nutritional additive of raw plant juice or activated compounds.”
“Yea man,” Tommy said. Just think if your long locks start turning bright red again and your hair gets so thick they won’t know if you have a bandana on at all!”
The three had a moment of laughing brevity and Willie felt like he had undone a lifetime of fence-sitting on the cannabis activist front. No matter how much he worked on activism programs, he always felt like he had to hide it from his conservative fans and be less open about his support within certain circles. Rock and country are interesting subcultures in America and Willie has offered himself a path for support from both, he now felt the real importance of maintaining a consistent persona regardless of company – it’s a healthy decision for anyone to make.
“”No more looking over the shoulder” – this is going to be the theme of my new song.” Willy exclaimed softly. “It’s going to be a tribute to me being true to my positions regardless of company, and to be more outspoken within the groups that need to hear the information. I’m no longer looking over my shoulder to see who’s near, or who has a recorder, or camera.”
Willy started smiling broadly and fiddled with his lighter a bit to show the positive movement in his thoughts. “I also think I know how to deal with this “Willies Weed” mess I’ve gotten myself into. Maybe I just change one letter. Just one single letter and my whole issue is resolved! What do you guys think of “Willie’s Seed”?” I want people to grow the genetics I’ve enjoyed, not feel forced to smoke the choice parts of a plant that was mass-produced in a warehouse or greenhouse!”
Tommy started laughing and asked without skipping a beat, “Willie, get the President on the phone, we need to get some seeds lined up adjacent to the Rose Garden and Cheech and I know this guy can be appointed as the Sensimilla Czar!”.
Morgan, finding it hard to sip tea from all the laughing finally piped up and said “does this mean we’ll be eating juiced Willie’s in a shake on the white house roof? I can’t wait for my hair to change red!”.
The three got up and ambled out of the shade and in to the light of morning, as all good creative folks keep their receptors activated in the AM; they took their butts and ashes along. No one in public space noticed them, smelt an inconspicuous odor, and there was no material left behind. Complete discretion and respect was achieved.