The Great absinthe experiment: part one "The Lead Up"

I've never made excuses for my innate curiosities as regards the metaphysical. The things and experiences that defy scientific explanation intrigue me, as do those that involve the use of substances to achieve transcendence.

I'm what could be called “a dabbler” when it comes to using various natural means to alter my head-space.

Cigarettes were my first introduction to an altered head-space, my Dad's one sister 'nicking smokes from her mom (my grandmother.... we're less than 3 years apart in age, me and that one aunt), Cameo menthols.... and discovering a head rush. I soon sought it out on my own, my Dad and Mom both smoked in those days and were easy to 'pinch' from. That habit, unfortunately, remains with me to this day, but I'm considered a “part time” smoker: I rarely if ever smoke outside of my property boundaries (and never in the house).

Three years later, the result of friends with older siblings and a return to living in the city, it was pot. Holy cow, I'd found my calling: when I smoked the stuff, I shut up, and became focused like a laser beam. I had patience that I didn't normally have, and an odd wisdom about keeping my damned mouth shut. By the time I was 16, I'd learned that not having it around for any length of time was detrimental to me: somehow, I was 'wired differently', and what would normally f**k a person up and turn them into a zombie of sorts would leave me in a state of “normal”. Going without for more than a few days saw me snap off at anyone and anything, and viciously, at that. My family paid for that bit of self-insight, and in some really nasty ways: I was one angry teenager at points, and I did more to hurt my parents in the space of a year than most do in a lifetime (and I'm still apologizing for it, more than 30 years later).

Pot wasn't acceptable, it was illegal... and I had my first real drunk when I was 16: a dare saw me down 1/2 of a 40 oz bottle of Canadian Club whiskey. HOLY DRUNK MUCH, and with the likelihood of alcohol poisoning, I found myself very ill and at school the next day. That my Dad's sense of humor saw me served half-cooked bacon and greasy eggs for breakie the next morning taught me a few lessons: I've filed that bit of treachery for future use, believe me.

I didn't like Acid. Speed, o jeez, that's just a disaster looking for a place to happen: I am not the kind of person that does well “amplified”. Cocaine was a real treat, but it scared the Hell out of me: the addiction risk put it in the same category as Valium (which I'd also tried, and found I liked), and so while it and benzodiazapine-family drugs suited me, I avoided them.

Mushrooms, and tequila.... holy cow, each a unique trip. I didn't like mushrooms, I felt out of control, and there was always a lingering fear that the harvester had mis-identified the fungi I'd just ingested.

Tequila did something really odd to me: I was fully functional, physically, and mentally sharp.... but could not speak without sounding like a cerebral palsy sufferer. I could pursue almost any project or effort while 'cut' on tequila, but talking to me was a total waste of time and netted you indecipherable responses.

There was two things on my “list” of “wanting to try”, when I turned 45. I had yet to try salvia divinorum, and I had yet to meet up with a bottle of absinthe. I'd spent time researching both substances, curious about their history, their uses, what made them sought out....

Because I live in Canada, absinthe is easily sourced: it's not illegal here. Because it can be found in a liquor store, my partner was okay with the idea: to him, was just over-proof booze made from something that doesn't grow here. I'd read about famous people like Oscar Wilde and their experiences with absinthe; I was damned leery of the potential hangover, I tend to be a lousy drunk for that very reason: I pay for it, I get hung-over at the drop of a hat.

He bought me a bottle of absinthe for my birthday, and the box even had the spoon, glass, and sugar cubes in it. At 70% alcohol (140 proof), and with supposed psychedelic properties (short-lived, the research had said), the bright green liquid reminded me of a bottle of vodka someone had dripped green food coloring into: it was the same consistency, to my eye. I knew it was supposed licorice in flavor.... I like licorice, just not in quantity.

Our daughter was going to be away for a night over the upcoming weekend, and that was when I decided to open that bottle of absinthe.

END OF PART 1

Mich's Mumbles © 2011