The Mushroom Diaries - Vol. 1

The question i put to myself was, why stop at just a sunny Friday morning? Of course the steady diet of Terence McKenna and Robert Anton Wilson as of late has probably helped influence the decision, but the decision had already been made long before and the decision involved taking it a bit further when the chance presented itself. To play with the dosage and the degree to which i wanted to travel. I've been a sucker for psychedelics since the day i tried them. I'll freely admit i'm one of those special cases who like to take them not for the light show that might take place (though i don't mind it) but for the pure joy of rambling around my own head and all the parts i don't regularly get to, i enjoy the quickness of  thought, the connections made, the way things can be turned upside down and make perfect sense. There's a reason the medicine man and the shaman have been taking these substances for thousands of years, i'm a firm believer that it provides an innate understanding and acceptance of things both pleasant and not so much, the latter not to be confused with the "bad trip" non-sense, but more in terms of coming to grips with things opposed or outside our reality tunnel... and it's a whole lot of fun.

Now let me state that this post isn't about to turn into some deep metaphysical treatise on the meaning of existence (or fuck it maybe it is). It's really about everyday adventures and the fun of riding trains. And so it goes... The first friday of August i had a ticket to see Father John Misty at a swell place called the Stage AE. AE being a purveyor of over-priced clothes made in far off lands but nice enough to build a decent sized indoor/outdoor venue which i usually hit a few times a year to see some music. It's located smack dab between Heinz Field and PNC Park in what used to be the North Side but through the wonders of progress and gentrification has been re-christened the North Shore. I've always been one to associate shores with oceans and lakes while rivers, like the one that runs beside this part of town, have always had banks, but hey who am i to quibble?

These days i like to pretend to be the responsible type, sort of, i know i know, it could be construed as a bit of an oxymoron in a post about mushrooms but since it was a Friday night and i don't like to drive far, far being 7 maybe 8 miles from the cribbo to the venue, i decided to take the T aka the trolley, which in the Burgh is just a fancy word for train. You see i could catch the train close to my house and get off a ten minute walk from Stage AE and then vice-versa on the return. I've lived in this city for over 20 years now and this was going to be the first ride (i think) on the T. What you say!! First time? Yes first time. Being the territorial sort in my wasted youth wilderness days i never strayed far from me barrio, the three neighborhoods i traversed provided everything i needed so i never felt the need to leave them. Yes i drove (or walked/biked) all over them but with a secret knowledge of back roads and a modicum of common sense it was pretty low risk. So just like Mr. Rogers, i donned my sweater and sneakers (not really) and drove the mile to the train station where i parked the car and sat devouring peanut butter mushroom crackers washed down with water with the odd pull from a newly acquired vape pen loaded with the finest indica live resin around. Then i made for the platform.

Nothing portends a good night like a couple of tweekers. I can vouch for the fact that of the three patrons on the platform we were all on drugs. America!! what a country!! A guy and his girl, the guy so coked up he couldn't sit still, the girl visibly fed up with him, him carrying three cell phones, him dropping the one he was using behind a cement bench on the platform, him then wandering off into the parking lot to look for a stick to retrieve said phone, my stoned self giggling at it all and trying to figure out how to use my transit card, the girl then stating out loud "this is what happens when you do to much coke", me asking her about the card and then stating i could reach his phone, him still wandering the parking lot still looking for a stick and spouting gibberish into one of his remaining cell phones, me getting his dropped phone, the girl saying thanks and explaining to my pleasantly stoned self what i needed to do, her screaming at him that she got his phone... and all before the boomers even kicked in...

Once on the train i settled in for my half hour ride to the North Shore, the beginning of the tingling in my mind and body, i watched the neighborhoods roll by, i remembered that slow train from Amsterdam to Brussels and eating two ganja cookies and downing coffee and the strange glow of the coffee porter in the train aisle as the cookies took hold.  My current T took me under the old US Steel building, past PNC park and underground stops i didn't even know existed and then to the end of the line, where i rambled down the steps as the mushrooms began to kick harder, a pull off the pen and a 15 minute leisurely walk while Friday night on the North Shore swirled around me. By the time i hit security i was in full flight.

So what's a stoned and tripping 47yr old man on his own to do while he waits for the band? Absolutely nothing. I listened to the opening band for a song or two and then made my way to the bar for a beer and a water, i then moseyed to the outside area to watch the hustle and bustle of the North Shore on a Friday night. The Pirates were in town and unbeknownst to me so was the regatta, the place was mobbed and i could only grin at my dumb luck, parking would have been a nightmare and a twenty dollar bill at least, now that twenty could go towards liquid refreshment to help my tripping ass stay hydrated. There are monitors all over the place outside so i could see when Father John Misty was about to go on. I took a few more pulls from the pen, pissed (one of my favorite things to do on mushrooms as it's like an extended male orgasm to me, a fact i mention constantly), grabbed a new beer and water and took my spot in the back and waited.

Father John Misty is the alter ego/character used by Josh Tillman, and let me state that Mr. Tillman can fucking bring it. I just kept giggling that it was like a post-modern version of the 70's singer songwriter, 10 piece band complete with horns, trippy lights, excellent animation playing behind the songs, it's a fucking rock concert kids! Add his rather astute lyrics which lie somewhere between scathing social critique and self-deprecating piss-take and it's a night well spent. At least for this geezer. He also knows a certain segment of his fan base like more than the beer and liquor for sale at the bar, Mr. Tillman being a bit of a psychonaut himself.

Of course people watching was half the fun and just like Pat Benatar look-a-likes in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, i spotted at least a half dozen FJM"s, guys cultivating the look and persona, a fact i think Josh finds fucking hilarious and horrific. Toss in the numerous couples where it was obvious the female had dragged the male to the show and it a cultural theory paper to Jack Tripper here. My favorites were the kids next to me, out of high school but not able to drink, the girl was having a grand time dancing and kept bumping into me, which in turn made her boyfriend a bit nervous, after the tenth time she apologized and i laughed and told them both it's a rock and roll show, you should be having fun, then i smiled at her and gave boyfriend a shit-eating grin, i knew what he was in store for... and lastly during the encore of Ideal Husband i laughed as i watched a pack of women screaming and singing and my tripped out gourd pondering whether they realized this song was all about the kinda guy you didn't want to date, it's one of my favorites, i relate to it well... and then it was over and i was out the door and into the night headed for the train station... a state of bliss bouncing around the bloodstream...

There was a beauty in the floodlights of the train platform, i made it just in time so i didn't have to wait, hopped on and grabbed a seat. The car was empty until the next stop when the baseball crowd crushed in. I gazed at the city going by the opposite way, eavesdropped on the conversations of strangers, the Yinzers behind me lamenting the plight of the Buccos, kids home from college talking courses of study and assorted bullshit, i studied the neighborhoods in darkness. I know there's nothing like your first time, i was in love with the universe that night, crickets and stars, yet we all know i fall in love to easily... can't wait to do it again next week...