The dose was a bit light. My sheet of 100 wasn't perforated.
Oh well. And I was tripping when I cut it down (dumb fuck).
So dosing is ... interesting.
So after about 90 minutes, I doubled down and stuck another little sliver of paper under my cheek. Good thing this stuff can't kill you. Right?
The boy (sorry, he's large, but he'll always be the boy to me) is annoyed. Large? He's a moose. People cross the street to avoid him when he's walking. But he's a gentle giant.
The boy's mental threshold is mind boggling. I thought mine was high, but it's nothing compared to him. Dose? He felt a flash. Doubled down? About 5 min of something being off. It took a couple of mushroom trips until we got the dosage right, we'll have to work on this one as well. But for last night, the dosage was perfect for me.
Pre trip checklist.
Moved?
Check.
Whoosh. Setting fell into place. Before that moment, tossed around in the winds, who the fuck knew where we'd be living. The old apt? Poof. The temp hotel? Way too expensive. The current temp house? Eww yick, not a place you want to live in. Old new house (for us) in the distance, teasing, saying fuck you, you thought you'd be living in the little chunk of heaven, but nope, you got NOTHING!
And then, mortgage approved, title searched, closed and moved in 3 days.
2 weeks later and about 1/2 unpacked. But that's good enough.
The boy's got some SERIOUS ADHD. But well controlled. On his own. Of course, it helps to focus on the tasks at hand. Can't trip without music.
Hey you: Hook up the stereo.
Him: where?
Hmmm. We'll be hanging upstairs in my attic office.
Oh, so fucking cool. I can say: MY attic office.
Him: Ok, got wires?
WIRES? I GOT WIRES!!!! EVERYWHERE. CASES AND CASES OF WIRES. MY WIRES GOT TOGETHER AND HAD BABY WIRES.
I point to the boxes. Feel free, you'll find everything you need.
Him: Whattabout a wire cutter?
Me? Nah, I use a blade and teeth.
He sneers at me, yeah, you do it wrong. He reaches to the wall of tool drawers (oh so well organzied, mechanical joining devices here, tape there, sharp pointy stuff there, don't stick your hand in that one. Oh, and drawer after drawer of trip toys. They've been waiting.
Just looked up at the clock. Quualude time (7:14) in the morning after. I like to try to capture what I can remember.
As I lectured the boy last night: GLOW STICKS? DO YOU KNOW WHERE WE GOT GLOW STICKS IN MY DAY? THE ARMY NAVY STORE. THEY WERE FOR CAMPING. AND THEY WERE ONLY GREEN. AND THEY WERE EXPENSIVE
He chuckles at me. Now we get them at the store that sells trips toys. What a concept. A trip store?!?!?
Back to the setup: So I tell him to hook up the stereo and he says which one? Oh yeah, gotta grab one from the stack of stereoes. Kids today and your ipods and whatver. Goddamn it, give me some oomph in my speakers.
Kenwood KR-V8070. That'll do.
Now the speakers are interesting. I do an initial output to a subwoofer that has high/low pass filters. It sends the higher stuff off to the speakers. We only put 2 in. This room is LONG, 35 feet, with a cavern side (where the roof slopes). With the speakers at each end of the room, there is about a 10 foot sweet spot in the middle.
Optimus Pro LX5 speakers. Little guys. AMAZING.
http://www.stereophile.com/standloudspeakers/695ratshack/
And in this space, WOW.
So he runs the wires, and has a wonderful time in deep focus, and I go grab a CD. Yeah, CD. Not MP3. CD goddam it. No, not album. Scratchy hiss sucks. Even I can accept progess, just not foolish forward motion. And remember tape? And dolby? And all kinds of crap that attempted to recreate sound in a decent fashion? No longer needed. The devices can record and playback digitally as well as I can discern it. We've hit it. Be happy.
Hey, I had an 8 track. And loved it. Yeah, that old.
But I like fulls CDs. I want to hear music in context.
And now, I've got "An American Prayer, Jim Morrison and the Doors" ready, in an asskicking large room, that as been filled with black lights, and blue and red lights as well.
And I can play the music as LOUD as I want.
We hook up the computer to the stereo. Pandora. Shpongle. Good time killer as we wait for peak. We toss trip toys for an hour.
As I wrote before, I peaked, he didn't, but at least he got some music education. He'd never heard this one before (we have lots of those moments ahead of us. I'll queue something up, chuckle a bit evilly and say: Never heard this before, right? I have a LOT of CDs. I just bought a collection of them.
I do a quick lecture on how awesome the music is, the room is perfect, I'm simply happy, and goaddamn it, you can't have this type of environment with headphones on.
The boy is amused, but not arguing. Yet. He saves his arguments for when examples can be used.
After the indians being scattered on the highway (Jim doing his shaman narrator is a nice launch) and a few more songs, we got a bit wandery.
Music off, tromp downstairs.
M is watching TV. She looks up, and says:
Are you filling the pool all night?
Hmmm. Huh? Note: M is my wife, and feels the house isn't ready yet for her to trip, but is perfectly supportive of my time tonight. She's watching TV 2 floors down, so my LOUD music does not affect her. Even later on, when she went to bed, I did not feel any volume pressure.
Pool? Oh yeah, WE HAVE A FUCKING INGROUND POOL. This is NOT something I ever expected to have. Gift from god.
I peeled the cover yesterday. I spent an hour leaning into mucky vermin blood sucking worm filled cover water, sucking it out into a wetvac, then dumping it out. I walked on water for a bit as I lost my balance, fell in, stood on the tarp (riiiipppppp), and got out.
When doen, M and I rolled the tarp up and saw the perfectly blue water. New liner. Is our entire backyard, so no lawn to cut (yay!).
But then, the pool guy said to fill it up (he's showing up today for the shock treatment). So I ran the hose. It takes a LONG time to raise the level of a pool. That was 3 hours ago.
Am I filling the pool all night? WTF?
OH!!!! Thanks, no, I needed to check that.
We wander outside. The pool has a light underwater, shining out. The water is a bit dirty, with swirling things being shown by the light.
My visuals have started to kick. This is a nice ooohhhh pretty moment.
The boy says: Shut it off, we're good.
Cool.
We wander around the pool, simply enjoying.
The boy says he's going in.
NONONONONONONONNONNONONO.
Blood sucking evil shit in there, do NOT go in there, WAIT until the pool guy kills it all.
Oh. The boy is a bit disappointed, but he understands.
We do a bit of cleanup. Oh great, I got long extension cords plugged in to the wetvac, which in turn could fall into the pool. And I'm tripping? Bad idea, stay away. No, MUST cleanup. MUST cleanup won.
I have 2 trip doses. Responsible play tripper. And don't try to stand up. This was a play trip.
We go back in, and keep going through the house to the front porch. Ass kicking porch. 5 seats out there now, room for 5 more. It it about 10 feet from the gated sidewalk. Then a semi busy small town main street. Traffic is spurty. There is a cross street in my view, and lots of parked cars screwing with the traffic flow. At least for the drunk and/or inexperienced drivers. And when that older Mercedes whipped around the corner and left the hubcap flying as it barely made it and then the tow truck flew by and then (ok, you get the picture, close traffic, high trails, very entertaining). I spent most of the time trying to not react simply so the neighbors didn't think I was too weird.
I'm a bit chilled. I go in. I turn the fire up. Gas fireplace. No chimney, full heat recovery, and pretty to watch. This house has 2 of them. I lean into the fire and absorb the warmth. I love this house. I love this fireplace. I can turn it on and feel the heat arrive in my attic. It's amazing.
The boy walks over and hands me his phone (music player). He has a set of cushy headphones he hands me. He attempts to explain the controls. I do NOT understand. I cannot even see the buttons he is pointing to. He shrugs, hits play, and hands me the device.
Shiny Toy Guns - Stripped
Wow. I ask him to feed me music he recommends. I'm happy to pass this along. Wow. And these headphone. They're awesome. Where did you get them, what are they, holy, shit?
$50 at walmart. Don't bother looking for them, they aren't made, and anyway, he's already resoldered them. Wow. Keepers.
Ok, so maybe his headphones are a bit better quality and comfort than I expected, but you still can't be ENVELOPED by the music. I want that subwoofer oomph. I can have both though. I can feed the subwoofer and the headset. Hmm. Next time.
M is going to sleep soon. She wants to make sure I'm safe.
Stay inside.
Hmm?? WTF? Unreasonable limitation on my movement dammit.
She looks at me with a combination of disgust and annoyance.
Fine. I'm going to go get a motorcycle, I don't want to hear any shit about it.
What? How'd we get there from here? And how an I having this conversation while in this state of mind. Bad. Oh, yeah, she wants a bike, I don't want her to kill herself, she's waiting for the kids to grow up. She doesn't have to wait any more, now it is simply a matter of getting one if she chooses. And I don't want her to kill herself.
M: If you think it's any different from you wandering around the pool while tripping your brains out you are full of shit.
She's right. Grrr.
Ok, fine. Am I allowed on the back porch?
M: You can go anywhere you want, as long as you don't fall into the pool.
Ok, I can handle that.
We wander back upstairs, and talk and listen a bit more.
I pop a CD on. Ummagumma disk 2. I push the song to #5. For those of you who don't know this CD, GO GET IT NOW! BUT DO NOT LISTEN TO IT!
Wait until you are tripping. One of those 1st experiences not to be blown wastefully.
For those of you who do know it, #5 is Grandchester Meadows, the perfect little ditty to enjoy an attic office, and the perfect leading to "Several small species". The boy heard heard "species" before, but never the leadin. A great moment. He's got a Pink Floyd tattoo and I'm still exposing him to new stuff, a song at a time.
He wants to go to bed, no prob. I listen to music for a bit and then wander the house. Lots of rooms. Lots of lights to turn out. Hey, this fan in the main entrance room area (we have rooms we don't know what they are for yet, yup, extra rooms, what a concept), this is under my bed. This is where the vibration is, dammit. Turn it off and I won't hear it while asleep.
Yay. Tripping perception win. I had thought the vibration was from somewhere else.
Ok, time to crash. Asleep around 2AM, up at 6. Late for me, but 4 hours is just about right. One of the benefits of getting old, you sleep less and have more time to enjoy life.
Oh well. And I was tripping when I cut it down (dumb fuck).
So dosing is ... interesting.
So after about 90 minutes, I doubled down and stuck another little sliver of paper under my cheek. Good thing this stuff can't kill you. Right?
The boy (sorry, he's large, but he'll always be the boy to me) is annoyed. Large? He's a moose. People cross the street to avoid him when he's walking. But he's a gentle giant.
The boy's mental threshold is mind boggling. I thought mine was high, but it's nothing compared to him. Dose? He felt a flash. Doubled down? About 5 min of something being off. It took a couple of mushroom trips until we got the dosage right, we'll have to work on this one as well. But for last night, the dosage was perfect for me.
Pre trip checklist.
Moved?
Check.
Whoosh. Setting fell into place. Before that moment, tossed around in the winds, who the fuck knew where we'd be living. The old apt? Poof. The temp hotel? Way too expensive. The current temp house? Eww yick, not a place you want to live in. Old new house (for us) in the distance, teasing, saying fuck you, you thought you'd be living in the little chunk of heaven, but nope, you got NOTHING!
And then, mortgage approved, title searched, closed and moved in 3 days.
2 weeks later and about 1/2 unpacked. But that's good enough.
The boy's got some SERIOUS ADHD. But well controlled. On his own. Of course, it helps to focus on the tasks at hand. Can't trip without music.
Hey you: Hook up the stereo.
Him: where?
Hmmm. We'll be hanging upstairs in my attic office.
Oh, so fucking cool. I can say: MY attic office.
Him: Ok, got wires?
WIRES? I GOT WIRES!!!! EVERYWHERE. CASES AND CASES OF WIRES. MY WIRES GOT TOGETHER AND HAD BABY WIRES.
I point to the boxes. Feel free, you'll find everything you need.
Him: Whattabout a wire cutter?
Me? Nah, I use a blade and teeth.
He sneers at me, yeah, you do it wrong. He reaches to the wall of tool drawers (oh so well organzied, mechanical joining devices here, tape there, sharp pointy stuff there, don't stick your hand in that one. Oh, and drawer after drawer of trip toys. They've been waiting.
Just looked up at the clock. Quualude time (7:14) in the morning after. I like to try to capture what I can remember.
As I lectured the boy last night: GLOW STICKS? DO YOU KNOW WHERE WE GOT GLOW STICKS IN MY DAY? THE ARMY NAVY STORE. THEY WERE FOR CAMPING. AND THEY WERE ONLY GREEN. AND THEY WERE EXPENSIVE
He chuckles at me. Now we get them at the store that sells trips toys. What a concept. A trip store?!?!?
Back to the setup: So I tell him to hook up the stereo and he says which one? Oh yeah, gotta grab one from the stack of stereoes. Kids today and your ipods and whatver. Goddamn it, give me some oomph in my speakers.
Kenwood KR-V8070. That'll do.
Now the speakers are interesting. I do an initial output to a subwoofer that has high/low pass filters. It sends the higher stuff off to the speakers. We only put 2 in. This room is LONG, 35 feet, with a cavern side (where the roof slopes). With the speakers at each end of the room, there is about a 10 foot sweet spot in the middle.
Optimus Pro LX5 speakers. Little guys. AMAZING.
http://www.stereophile.com/standloudspeakers/695ratshack/
And in this space, WOW.
So he runs the wires, and has a wonderful time in deep focus, and I go grab a CD. Yeah, CD. Not MP3. CD goddam it. No, not album. Scratchy hiss sucks. Even I can accept progess, just not foolish forward motion. And remember tape? And dolby? And all kinds of crap that attempted to recreate sound in a decent fashion? No longer needed. The devices can record and playback digitally as well as I can discern it. We've hit it. Be happy.
Hey, I had an 8 track. And loved it. Yeah, that old.
But I like fulls CDs. I want to hear music in context.
And now, I've got "An American Prayer, Jim Morrison and the Doors" ready, in an asskicking large room, that as been filled with black lights, and blue and red lights as well.
And I can play the music as LOUD as I want.
We hook up the computer to the stereo. Pandora. Shpongle. Good time killer as we wait for peak. We toss trip toys for an hour.
As I wrote before, I peaked, he didn't, but at least he got some music education. He'd never heard this one before (we have lots of those moments ahead of us. I'll queue something up, chuckle a bit evilly and say: Never heard this before, right? I have a LOT of CDs. I just bought a collection of them.
I do a quick lecture on how awesome the music is, the room is perfect, I'm simply happy, and goaddamn it, you can't have this type of environment with headphones on.
The boy is amused, but not arguing. Yet. He saves his arguments for when examples can be used.
After the indians being scattered on the highway (Jim doing his shaman narrator is a nice launch) and a few more songs, we got a bit wandery.
Music off, tromp downstairs.
M is watching TV. She looks up, and says:
Are you filling the pool all night?
Hmmm. Huh? Note: M is my wife, and feels the house isn't ready yet for her to trip, but is perfectly supportive of my time tonight. She's watching TV 2 floors down, so my LOUD music does not affect her. Even later on, when she went to bed, I did not feel any volume pressure.
Pool? Oh yeah, WE HAVE A FUCKING INGROUND POOL. This is NOT something I ever expected to have. Gift from god.
I peeled the cover yesterday. I spent an hour leaning into mucky vermin blood sucking worm filled cover water, sucking it out into a wetvac, then dumping it out. I walked on water for a bit as I lost my balance, fell in, stood on the tarp (riiiipppppp), and got out.
When doen, M and I rolled the tarp up and saw the perfectly blue water. New liner. Is our entire backyard, so no lawn to cut (yay!).
But then, the pool guy said to fill it up (he's showing up today for the shock treatment). So I ran the hose. It takes a LONG time to raise the level of a pool. That was 3 hours ago.
Am I filling the pool all night? WTF?
OH!!!! Thanks, no, I needed to check that.
We wander outside. The pool has a light underwater, shining out. The water is a bit dirty, with swirling things being shown by the light.
My visuals have started to kick. This is a nice ooohhhh pretty moment.
The boy says: Shut it off, we're good.
Cool.
We wander around the pool, simply enjoying.
The boy says he's going in.
NONONONONONONONNONNONONO.
Blood sucking evil shit in there, do NOT go in there, WAIT until the pool guy kills it all.
Oh. The boy is a bit disappointed, but he understands.
We do a bit of cleanup. Oh great, I got long extension cords plugged in to the wetvac, which in turn could fall into the pool. And I'm tripping? Bad idea, stay away. No, MUST cleanup. MUST cleanup won.
I have 2 trip doses. Responsible play tripper. And don't try to stand up. This was a play trip.
We go back in, and keep going through the house to the front porch. Ass kicking porch. 5 seats out there now, room for 5 more. It it about 10 feet from the gated sidewalk. Then a semi busy small town main street. Traffic is spurty. There is a cross street in my view, and lots of parked cars screwing with the traffic flow. At least for the drunk and/or inexperienced drivers. And when that older Mercedes whipped around the corner and left the hubcap flying as it barely made it and then the tow truck flew by and then (ok, you get the picture, close traffic, high trails, very entertaining). I spent most of the time trying to not react simply so the neighbors didn't think I was too weird.
I'm a bit chilled. I go in. I turn the fire up. Gas fireplace. No chimney, full heat recovery, and pretty to watch. This house has 2 of them. I lean into the fire and absorb the warmth. I love this house. I love this fireplace. I can turn it on and feel the heat arrive in my attic. It's amazing.
The boy walks over and hands me his phone (music player). He has a set of cushy headphones he hands me. He attempts to explain the controls. I do NOT understand. I cannot even see the buttons he is pointing to. He shrugs, hits play, and hands me the device.
Shiny Toy Guns - Stripped
Wow. I ask him to feed me music he recommends. I'm happy to pass this along. Wow. And these headphone. They're awesome. Where did you get them, what are they, holy, shit?
$50 at walmart. Don't bother looking for them, they aren't made, and anyway, he's already resoldered them. Wow. Keepers.
Ok, so maybe his headphones are a bit better quality and comfort than I expected, but you still can't be ENVELOPED by the music. I want that subwoofer oomph. I can have both though. I can feed the subwoofer and the headset. Hmm. Next time.
M is going to sleep soon. She wants to make sure I'm safe.
Stay inside.
Hmm?? WTF? Unreasonable limitation on my movement dammit.
She looks at me with a combination of disgust and annoyance.
Fine. I'm going to go get a motorcycle, I don't want to hear any shit about it.
What? How'd we get there from here? And how an I having this conversation while in this state of mind. Bad. Oh, yeah, she wants a bike, I don't want her to kill herself, she's waiting for the kids to grow up. She doesn't have to wait any more, now it is simply a matter of getting one if she chooses. And I don't want her to kill herself.
M: If you think it's any different from you wandering around the pool while tripping your brains out you are full of shit.
She's right. Grrr.
Ok, fine. Am I allowed on the back porch?
M: You can go anywhere you want, as long as you don't fall into the pool.
Ok, I can handle that.
We wander back upstairs, and talk and listen a bit more.
I pop a CD on. Ummagumma disk 2. I push the song to #5. For those of you who don't know this CD, GO GET IT NOW! BUT DO NOT LISTEN TO IT!
Wait until you are tripping. One of those 1st experiences not to be blown wastefully.
For those of you who do know it, #5 is Grandchester Meadows, the perfect little ditty to enjoy an attic office, and the perfect leading to "Several small species". The boy heard heard "species" before, but never the leadin. A great moment. He's got a Pink Floyd tattoo and I'm still exposing him to new stuff, a song at a time.
He wants to go to bed, no prob. I listen to music for a bit and then wander the house. Lots of rooms. Lots of lights to turn out. Hey, this fan in the main entrance room area (we have rooms we don't know what they are for yet, yup, extra rooms, what a concept), this is under my bed. This is where the vibration is, dammit. Turn it off and I won't hear it while asleep.
Yay. Tripping perception win. I had thought the vibration was from somewhere else.
Ok, time to crash. Asleep around 2AM, up at 6. Late for me, but 4 hours is just about right. One of the benefits of getting old, you sleep less and have more time to enjoy life.
