Well, let's just tell the story and see where it takes us.
I told you how I had become something of a local guru on the tricks and traps of LSD trips. I recounted the need to always stick with a partner so that you don't get lost in the mental hallucinations, forget that you have taken a drug, and risk losing total contact with reality. Well, at the beginning of a week in late May, 1970 I came across a dose of what my friendly local dealer certified as "clinical grade" LSD.
For some time now, I had been yearning for that ultimate trip where I would delve into the depths of my own being and discover the true nature of self and my place in the universe. I certainly had not found what I was looking for in my materialistic and "plastic" experience as a secular Jew.
My mother, a Reform Jew, considered herself an atheist. Her position on the afterlife was, "When you are dead, you are dead. You just stop existing." My father only attended his Orthodox Shul for high holidays and when my uncle (who was president of the Shul) could drag him into a Saturday morning minyan. According to my father, when you died, you went to some in-between place for 11 months until you hopefully moved to some sort of happy afterlife. He really didn't seem interested in such things, and just getting him to talk about it was an effort. He was so filled with guilt about his childhood relationships and his failed marriage (later he would chalk up three failed marriages), that his only religious involvement was to purchase a huge stained glass window for the foyer of the new Shul.
But there was no "there" there. To me, it all seemed to be dead tradition. I could not perceive any spiritual meaning or value to any of it. For me, Judaism was a tired system of ethics. Even my bar mitzvah was a power struggle between my divorced parents. My mother wanted me to have a "normal" childhood--typical of suburban American life. That meant confirmation in the Reform Temple as the single kowtow to religious tradition. My father finally gave up the hope that I would attend Hebrew school 3 days a week, but had negotiated a bar mitzvah with his rabbi where I would only have to show up on my 13th birthday and read a few Hebrew prayers transliterated into English. My 13th birthday passed without incident.
Confirmation in 10th grade was just an excuse to no longer have to attend Sunday School at temple. However, I did not escape religious services on holidays with both my mother at temple and my father at shul. Those were lost weekends!
Anyway, in May of 1970 I had the perfect trip planned. I had clinical LSD, a ZBT buddy (Barry-- if you are still out there, get in touch!) to trip with, and it was a beautiful warm day in Madison. The spring school term had just ended, and it was during that time before the first summer term classes began. For me, it was between the school term from which I had withdrawn in the 13th week, just before I would fail my classes, and before I had to sign up for summer classes. It was that perfectly neutral time--no responsibilities.
Barry and I planned to start our trip around noon down at the student union, out on the lawn overlooking Lake Mendota. We swallowed our little pieces of paper with the pink splotch of LSD at the ZBT house and strolled down Langdon street to the Union. There was a handful of others sprawled on the lawn enjoying the idyllic weather. Barry and I joined a small group, one of whom was a blonde on whom I had a huge crush. Another was Chris who had the reputation of being the hippest of the hippies. Although we hadn't met formally, Chris the Hippie and I saw each other often as he lived in the apartments across the street from the ZBT house. I had a parking space for my British Racing Green 66 Mustang in front of his door. [The car had been a 16th birthday gift from my father. I loved that car!]
By now the rush from the drug was getting pretty strong, and I lay back on the grass gazing at puffy white clouds gently blowing across the lake. Feeling pretty good about myself, I rolled over to say something to the one I hoped would soon be my blonde girlfriend. Suddenly, what had been the perfect "trip" took a turn for the worse, as I turned on my side rolling right into a pile of dog-doo.
My love interest and Chris the Hippie chuckled at my predicament. I excused myself and began to head back to the frat house for a shower and change of clothes. I told my tripping partner, Barry, that I would meet up with him later. That was a mistake--he should have come back with me while I cleaned up. You never want to separate from your tripping partner.
I was in a hurry to get rid of the filth and the smell which was intensified by the drug. I took a shortcut back to ZBT that took me along the lake shore and by all the frat houses on the lake. As I moved from backyard to parking lot, I also passed all the garbage dumpsters behind the fraternities. I was humiliated, covered in dog crap, totally overcome by the smell, and instead of gazing out on the lake, was confronting all the refuse from a weekend of parties in the frat houses. Do you think this might turn out to be a bad trip?
By the time I got back to the frat house, all I could see, smell or think about was crap. I stood in the shower for a good 45 minutes trying to get rid of the smell. But even if I had been successful in ridding myself of the smell, I had all these images of refuse playing through my drugged-out head. I was now at the peak of the drug's effect, separated from my partner, and having totally forgotten that I had taken LSD. I was just dizzy with horrible smells and images.
After changing clothes, I wandered outside to the end of the street and walked down the steps to the bank of the lake. I sat down there and gazed out over the shimmering blue water. The fluffy white clouds began to change to ominous black thunderstorm clouds.
As I sat there watching the clouds roll in, I suddenly had a flash of spiritual understanding. I realized that I was one with the universe, a part and parcel with it. My mind reached out to touch the universe while at the same time, I became conscious of myself at the deepest level. I realized that there was a universal existence, that all life was part of that universal being, and yet I myself was small "g" god. I realized that we are all part of the cosmic being, yet I was that being. I was "god" and part and parcel with "God."
I fixed on the huge black storm clouds. Suddenly, yes, I knew I was god/God and I now that I had come to this discovery, I had decided to end this existence. It was the end of the world!
Some trip huh?
In that state of mind, ecstatic with my enlightenment, but with trepidation about the approaching end of all things, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder, asking: "Are you alright?"
Next: Meet Dave, Chris the Hippie's younger brother.
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