Closing My Third Eye

March 29, 2017 at 4:20 am (Cosmic Encounters, Sweet sticky things)

So many things we’ve known all our lives are going away. Some of it is evolution. Some is common sense. Or, in the situation of weed and the counter-culture, you become obsolete.

Who’da thunk potheads would become a recognized, respected, government-regulated bunch of tax-paying citizens? (I didn’t, in my lifetime.) Even more so, who would think that such government approval would cause things like head shops to fall by the way-side?

Such is the case with my favorite surviving head shop, The Third Eye on Hawthorne. All good things must come to an end.

I stopped by on Saturday to pay my respects. I’d been visiting the upstairs for decades. Every few years it would be time for a new glass water and tobacco pipe. (Don’t you FUCKIN’ DARE call it a bong, or even hint you may be smoking weed or hash out of it. You will become ceremoniously uninvited.) They also had a nice selection of colored lamp parts, which when assembled a certain way becomes a traveling smokeless pipe about the size of a cigar butt. Exotic rolling papers, screens 20 for $1, and $2 Djeep lighters. (The D is silent, like in Django Unchained.) If you need weed supplies, this is your joint.

Sister and I dropped by last week to pay our respects, and about $30 for various this’ and thats. I’d been procrastinating getting a new stem for my $100 roadkill glass bong, and there would be no cheaper time. I got parts to build three smokelesses, theoretically a lifetime supply. All their screens were odd-sized, but one can always cut down the big ones to fit. I took three packets.

It’s too bad the place wasn’t as busy the week before as it was the last day. On the side of the old house a keg party was happening, I could see proprietor/grandson Mark Herrer meeting and greeting the public on what played out like a happy funeral. It was a wistful moment as I stopped in the driveway for one last look and a wave at the happy hippies on the roof playing with the bubble machine.

So long, Third Eye. You have served us well.

Heads Will Roll Elsewhere

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