Benefits of Teaching Memoir: A Natural High

Warning: Teaching memoir-writing is a gateway drug. I started leading a class 15 years ago. By 2011 I was leading two a week. In 2012, it grew to three. I’m up to five now.

How do I keep up the habit? By taking breaks in-between the six-week sessions. I don’t edit or give writing prompts or assignments during those breaks, but I do encourage writers to write on their own and bring those essays along to read out loud when the next six-week session begins. The class I lead at The Admiral at the Lake started its six-week summer session yesterday, and writers wowed us with essays they’d written during break about everything from skinny-dipping to weed! Writer Bill Hinchliff generously agreed to share his essay with you Safe & Sound blog readers. “I may have overused capital letters when writing it.” he warned me. “But it felt right, and it was fun to do!” Hmm. Maybe he was chewing gummi bears as he wrote this? You be the judge.

Pot Pourri

by Bill Hinchliff

As the once-great state of Illinois inches toward legalizing recreational marijuana, I recall my last summer’s experience in Colorado. Yes, the Rocky Mountain State has gone the Full Marijuana Monty — medical, recreational, customer- friendly dispensaries, giant pot farms. In short, very big business!

My own history with weed? I smoked once or twice in college and didn’t like it. Of course, had I not gone into the Air Force in the nightmare year of 1968, I might have become a true pot-head…or worse.

So, I was ready to make up for lost time in the summer of 2018 — at age 71 — while visiting my cousins in Salida, Colorado.

Ok, that’s an exaggeration, but I was certainly curious about this New World of Weed.

What kind of place is Salida? Located at 7,000 feet along the upper reaches of the Arkansas River, it really is God’s country — but also Liberal Democratic and Aging Hippie Land, at least among the most recent residents. This store window notice captures the place well :

A call to all spiritual hikers who would enjoy a 10-mile hike in the mountains.

We will stop along the way for 20 minutes to honor the Spirit of Nature with meditation, mindfulness singing or journaling.

Though I skipped this walk, the more I absorbed the Spirit of Salida, the more I felt tempted by The Call of the Weed.

I knew the slogan of the local dispensary (“Keep the Greed out of Weed”) was baloney after we drove by an enormous “Grow Facility,” or, in plain English, a marijuana factory. Huge white-fabric-covered greenhouses stretched for blocks on open land in a town that used to smelt silver and gold. Did I react with horror? Not at all. I am a red-blooded American who yearns to join the pot-rush. Hence my proposal to the weed moguls that they adopt my catchy slogan: “We’ve Made of Pot a Gold!”

And now it was time to visit one of Salida’s two dispensaries. May the euphemisms roll on: The dispensary I chose billed itself as “The Tenderfoot Health Collective.” In the first room a cheerful young woman greeted me, asked to see an ID, and invited me to check out the displays. A few minutes later she ushered me into the Inner Sanctum, where another chirpy young woman explained the merchandise: candies, cookies, pot cigarettes etc. When she learned I was a novice (almost a virgin!) she cautioned me to avoid the most potent stuff. I chose a $25 bottle of moderately dope-infused gummi bears. When I asked if I would have trouble taking it home on the train, her expression darkened. “I have no idea,” she said “You are on your own.”

I am happy to report the train posed no problems. Back home I offered a “bear” or two to selected friends, some of whom reported blissful experiences. I am already taking orders for this summer’s visit. One friend calls me the “Windy mule!”

As for the effect on me, the “bears” tasted good, and I think I noticed a mild buzz. But the earth did not move.