July 4, 2008
San Francisco, California
Wow, even days later I'm still so giddy I can hardly type!
Have you ever taken a bong hit that melts away the worries of this world in a euphoric wave of Zen-like contentment? How about the intense pleasure of listening to your favorite Grateful Dead song while enjoying the aforementioned bodacious botanicals, followed by the exquisite pleasure of biting into a chewy, warm brownie right from the oven? While most enlightened liberals would consider these things life's ultimate pleasures, they pale in comparison to sitting at the feet of The Master and drinking in the sweet nectar of hope!
Senator Barack Obama's San Francisco campaign stop this week was just what I needed to get out of the house and stoke my political fires. I called my good friend Pepe, as I figured he'd love to see and hear our next president (I also just happened to know that Pepe had some hashish and a full tank of gas). He came by early so we could sample the hash and get to the La Quinta Inn where Senator Obama was speaking in time to hopefully score some decent seats. As always, Pepe's lowrider smelled like it had been marinating in a mixture of oil, beer, urine, pot smoke, and sweat, and maybe it had. We fired up the pipe and grooved to some Santana as we headed to the hotel.
We arrived at the La Quinta plenty early and after several attempts to exit the car, and a like number of hysterical laughing fits, we finally made it to the ballroom. The place was lousy with Obama supporters, news crews, and more tie-dye than I'd seen in any one place since the early seventies. We were fortunate to secure two front row seats, thanks to Pepe giving the menacing stink-eye to a couple of nervous lesbians. While waiting for the thing to start we kept ourselves entertained by impersonating interesting individuals sitting throughout the room. At one point I blew Pepsi out my nose in response to Pepe's especially comical portrayal of the crippled guy sitting next to him. Despite the guy's obvious lack of humor, we had fun and time passed quickly. That was some really good hash.
At last, Senator Obama entered the room amid thundering applause and made his way to the podium. I swear he emanated a kind of aura like the one Jesus sports in all those paintings. Pepe disagreed, saying it was more like that of a giant bug zapper, and he was right. As Senator Obama gave his message of hope and change, Pepe became mesmerized, while I felt an intense swelling of pride for my country like never before! Unfortunately to my embarrassment (and the obvious discomfort of everyone within twenty feet of us) this turned out to be only a severe bout of gas brought on by the egg sandwiches and beers I'd wolfed down earlier. (Sorry folks!)
The rest of the night was a blur of inspiration as Barack set our hopes and dreams on a utopian future woven of peace, equality, harmony, free health care, and reduced greenhouse gases. His promises of gay marriage, drive-up abortion-on-demand, higher taxes, and torturing the rich were merely the cherries on an already perfect pie. Pepe and I went home satisfied with the knowledge that a powerful B.O. has an iron grip on our nation's political future!
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