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Bill McClellan: Ready to roll (a joint) so I can join a commune
“I’m in,” I said, although I had not been invited.
There was an awkward silence. Perhaps the commune they had in mind was not going to have a shuffleboard court.
“What skills would you bring?” one asked me.
That might have been meant as a trick question. I’m always asking for help with the computer. I can’t master the new phone system. I bump into things. I would not be a lot of help if the commune wanted to build a barn. So I considered the question. What skills would I bring?
“I can roll a joint,” I said.
That dates me, I know. I come from a time when most young people smoked pot. You couldn’t go to a party or a concert without somebody handing you a joint. And if you dropped in on a friend, he or she was liable to toss you a baggie and invite you to roll yourself one.
I could do it. I wasn’t one of those faux hippies who needed a rolling machine. On the other hand, my joints weren’t artistically perfect, and I certainly was not able to roll a joint with one hand. What a skill that was! I’ve seen guys roll a joint with one hand while holding a conversation. It was amazing. You’d listen to them, of course, but your eyes would be riveted on the hand with which they were rolling a joint. Girls used to flock to those guys. It was as good as being in a band.
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