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  • Or," hell yes, I did inhale."
    A fishing trip with my dad when I was eighteen:
    This was the summer after graduation for me; early July, 1971. Dad and I packed up our fly rods, a case of Coors, some snacks and pipe tobacco, and went to Le Clerc creek for a day outing. The creek was really small and remote, so it took some time to pack in to the site. Dad hadn't grabbed any extra tobacco, (we both smoked Prince Albert in the can) and he ran out after a short time fishing, and drinking several beers. He asked if I could spare him some of mine. What he didn't know, was that mine was a 50/50 mix with German hash. I tried to tell him mine was an old can, and was probably really stale, I didn't think he would like it. He insisted, I gave in, and within an hour, dad looked at me funny, then at his beer, and again at me, threw the full can of beer into the creek, telling me he thought he was too drunk to catch any fish. I never told my dad about this, and he passed away several years ago never knowing that he wasn't actually drunk from just three beers. Hell my mom passed last January, and I never even told her. There were many other fishing trips, most of which we actually caught fish (not being attensionaly impaired as it were), and many other stories I keep in memory of dad and July s past. I know in my heart that where they both are now, they both know the truth. Yeah mom and especially dad, I did inhale, and when I join those two there will probably be some July fireworks in heaven! Or I'll have Hell to pay!!!
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