Saturday 1 May

If you know me, or you’ve followed me on Facebook for any amount of time you’ve heard/ read this forthcoming story before. There will be some redundancy in some of my writings but I’ll get a little more in depth.

I touched on my being a (recovered) drug addict in my Blog introduction yesterday. I’m going to expand on this statement this morning and then get in depth over the coming days with stories.

I’d love to be able to tell that I grew up rough on the streets and drugs were just a part of it. But that could not be further from the truth. I was a spoiled rotten rich white kid. Grew up in a very upper middle class home with exceptional parents. We were very active in Church. My father was the treasurer and my mother headed up the choir. We were in the building 3 days a week.

I got enough hugs, I knew that I was loved. the fact that I became a drug addled criminal was nothing more than sheer effort on my part.

I first tried smoking pot at age 10. It was 1976. And it was a different world. Better music, cooler cars, long hair and bell bottom jeans. By the time I was 15 I was an every day smoker.

At 19 in a 24 space of time my world fell apart. I had a small apartment and worked at cabinet shop. My girlfriend lived 80 miles south and we’d get together as often as we could. This particular day on the phone she told me that another guy was there and we were over. I immediately got into my car and beg driving there. I made it 45 miles and the engine in my 1975 Dodge Dart locked up. I hictchhiked the rest of the way to her house and solidified our breakup. I had no choice but to hitchhike home and that endeavor took a lot longer than I’d anticipated. I miss work and was fired. so, in that 24 hours I lost my car, my girl and my job.

Rent was due. Having no other option I went and got an ounce of weed and sat at the picnic tables in Perry Park and sold joints. By days end I was able to pay for the first ounce and get another. Seeing how easy this was being too stupid to know how much trouble I could get into I kept doing this for a few weeks and soon I was able to buy a pound of weed with cash. Then I began selling ounces.

It was a better option because I’d see less people, collect $100’s instead of $5’s and ultimately make more money. Thus my illustrious career began...