I'm usually the OG. Bought my first deuce, a $2 amount that would fit into a matchbox, in Detroit in 1964.
Snuck it home and pled sick on Sunday when everyone else was shanghaid to go to church. I smuggled an old
meerschaum pipe my old man had "lost" and sat down at the table with a plastic bucket to puke in if necessary.
I had never met anyone who had ever smoked and had no idea what I was doing. I'd read enough to know to
inhale and hold it in. I got through a bowl and a half before turning green. Never got sick. Never got high, far as
I knew. Saved the remaining 2/3 of the deuce and got hammered the next try, the next day.
Started dealing in 1968 when I got a chance to buy some hash pretty cheap. I paid $35 for a 1/4 oz., sold 5 grams for
$7 each and partied the other 2 gs. It was like finding money on the street. I could make money and product because
I had connections and a silver tongue. Caught a grand jury indictment in 1969 for sales of LSD to a nark in Grand Rapids.
Punk's name was Joe Lobazzatta and it took the Outlaws 3 years to get him. Funny, my court appointed lawyer was named
Charles A. Doherty. My buddy asked which lawyer I got and I told him. He said "o shit, not twent to forty Doherty". He was
right. I was the only guilty plea from 48 arrests.
Thanks for letting me ramble. BigSteve.