One of the most colorful phases of my life, thus far, was the ‘Free Tibet’ stage. My junior and senior year of high school I discovered the Dalai Lama and Marijuana. I’m sure I am not the first person to introduce these two things to myself at the same time… but it was an interesting couple of years. Most people that have known me for only the past five years or so would find this shocking, as my current nickname in Wimberley is Goat Roper… because I ride horses and wear a lone star beer hat I guess.
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High school was a hell of a lot of fun for me, especially the time that I threatened to wear a Cookie Monster costume (stoned of course) on the football field when I was nominated for homecoming queen, which just about sums up my high school experience. I ended up wearing a dress, and I still really regret that. Among my favorite belongings at this time was every book the Dalai Llama had written, my thrift store tin can pot container, my ‘Free Tibet’ T shirt and bumper stickers as well as my Donovan’s Greatest hits album. I don’t smoke anymore really, I already have the blood sugar levels of a sloth so I prefer Coffee, Cigarettes and Whiskey as my primary vices.
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I had made the transition to college with the same life style, but after a few months at the University of Oklahoma, I became a neurotic runner, and quit smoking (weed) and never really drank. The college lifestyle was not something I enjoyed, so I literally ran away from it. By the time Christmas break came along, I had the 8 hour trek back to my hometown of Midland TX, and a friend of mine from down the hall asked me to stash her pot pipe while her mom visited to help her move. I did this gladly, but in the rush of the next morning to get on the road and head south to Texas, I had forgotten to return the pipe to her.
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I loaded all of my belongings in my 2001 extended cab GMC Sierra and hit I-35. I have a sincere love for any truck that I own. I name them, I decorate them with stickers and other knickknacks that I feel suit the trucks ‘personality’. As I pulled through Weatherford, TX- in Parker County, which is notorious for its abundance of speed traps, I was pulled over for speeding. I don’t remember how fast I was going, but I do know it was not the warp speed this greenhorn officer made it out to be. The officer was young and attractive, but with the disposition of an SS general.
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“Just where in the hell are you goin’ there ma’am?”
” I’m on my way home from College in Oklahoma to Midland, Sir”
“MIDLAND? You’re driving around Midland Texas with that Free Tibet sticker on your car and an Owl and a Buddha statue on your dashboard!?”
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I felt a little flattered he had noticed what I thought was a subtle flair to the Free Tibet-mobile’s accessories.
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“Yes sir. These ornaments were gifts, I like them, I’ve lived in Midland my whole life.”
“YOU ON ANY DRUGS MA’AM!?”
A little shocked at how the conversation escalated, I was annoyed at his brashness and decided to give him a little scoff with my firm, “No sir!” reply.
This proved to be a big mistake.
“Well alright Missy, if you’re so drug free, let me take a look in your purse!”
I was thoroughly offended and knew I had the right to say no, so I felt determined to make his balls shrivel when I proved him wrong. I handed him over my green paisley bag with a large embroidered owl on it, and as he began to rifle through my belongings I remembered just as a grin came across his face.
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AMANDA’S PIPE WAS IS IN THERE.
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“Uh yahhh… that’s a friend of mine’s, man. I don’t smoke anymore.”
“Hilarious, now get out of the truck. I’m calling for back up.”
This seemed erroneous to the discovery of just some paraphernalia, but I needed a break from driving anyway, so I sat on the highway median and was surprisingly calm as a large German shepherd tore through everything I owned in my truck.
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About fifteen minutes later, the young officer approached me with what was my old thrift tin pot holder can. When I saw it I smiled like I had seen a long lost friend by happenstance. The officer was annoyed by this and pulled out a little Zip Lock baggie inside the can that had seeds and stems, from a year or so ago, most likely, in it and told me I was lucky there was no evidence of live marijuana in my vehicle. I asked if I could have my tin can back, he rolled his eyes, handed it to me and asked me to come stand by my truck with him.
“I’m going to give you a ticket for paraphernalia but before I do this, I want you to stomp on this pipe right here on the ground and remember this experience before you go around smoking dope ever again!”
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Now I just felt insulted and compelled to play up the hippy girl role I had been un-willingly cast into by officer Dick Head.
“But officer, that pipe is a thick, blown glass and I’m wearing hemp sneakers with recycled rubber– I probably weigh around 115, there’s no way I can stomp it.”
Annoyed, he grabbed his night stick and went to hand it to me, “Then smash it with this!”
“Are you really asking me to litter glass on the Texas highways right now?”
With a huff and a puff, he picked up the pipe, threw it across the road– wrote out my paraphernalia ticket and told me to get gone.
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I lit and cigarette and Donovan and I continued west.The ticket cost me about seventy five dollars and I had to replace my friend’s pipe, But I think my little owl and Buddha dashboard decorations got a pretty big kick out of the entire scene.
Meredith Hardwick 