OK, Here's a story on STUPID BOB
Posted: December 9th, 2004, 9:17 pm
OK, here's a story on STUPID BOB.
It was the early '70's. Our band was the Freefall Lyric Ensemble. I can't remember who thought of the pretentious name. It was probably me.
We travelled in entourage in those years. About ten of us went to Kat's Farm one weekend to woodshed. Kat was a fan and supporter of the band. She let us use her farm just north of Dallas to rehearse. It was Spring, I think.
Our keyboard player was Virginia Speed (real name) and her brother was named Rick. We woke up Saturday morning to see Rick in his peyote hat. Rick had been living in Austin where, in those days, there was a bootleg laboratory on every block making mescaline by means of soaking peyote buds in the bathtub in a solution of benzine to extract the alkaloid. The resulting white crystals would be put in large capsules for consumption.
Rick's Mescalito hat looked like a peyote button, green with little white tufts. He began to chant. In his hand was a pile of capsules full of mescaline. Most of them were double ought caps--about 300 mg of mescaline, which is a healthy dose. But the Austin labs were not known for uniformity or quality control. One of the caps was a triple ought containing perhaps 500 mg of the psychedelic substance.
Rick began passing the caps out. When he came to STUPID BOB, one of the caps was the big one. BOB pointed to it and said, "I want That One." It was a classic case of your eyes being bigger than your stomach. Mescaline is known to cause nausea. Vomiting is often the way the psychedelic experience begins.
The next time I saw STUPID BOB, he was on his knees under the shade tree in the front yard. He was barfing his guts out. He would give a couple of heaves and then curse heaven, shooting god the finger and then a couple of more heaves and he would curse hell and flip the bird to the devil. It was the perfect physical expression of the existential dilemma.
That's why they call him STUPID BOB.
It was the early '70's. Our band was the Freefall Lyric Ensemble. I can't remember who thought of the pretentious name. It was probably me.
We travelled in entourage in those years. About ten of us went to Kat's Farm one weekend to woodshed. Kat was a fan and supporter of the band. She let us use her farm just north of Dallas to rehearse. It was Spring, I think.
Our keyboard player was Virginia Speed (real name) and her brother was named Rick. We woke up Saturday morning to see Rick in his peyote hat. Rick had been living in Austin where, in those days, there was a bootleg laboratory on every block making mescaline by means of soaking peyote buds in the bathtub in a solution of benzine to extract the alkaloid. The resulting white crystals would be put in large capsules for consumption.
Rick's Mescalito hat looked like a peyote button, green with little white tufts. He began to chant. In his hand was a pile of capsules full of mescaline. Most of them were double ought caps--about 300 mg of mescaline, which is a healthy dose. But the Austin labs were not known for uniformity or quality control. One of the caps was a triple ought containing perhaps 500 mg of the psychedelic substance.
Rick began passing the caps out. When he came to STUPID BOB, one of the caps was the big one. BOB pointed to it and said, "I want That One." It was a classic case of your eyes being bigger than your stomach. Mescaline is known to cause nausea. Vomiting is often the way the psychedelic experience begins.
The next time I saw STUPID BOB, he was on his knees under the shade tree in the front yard. He was barfing his guts out. He would give a couple of heaves and then curse heaven, shooting god the finger and then a couple of more heaves and he would curse hell and flip the bird to the devil. It was the perfect physical expression of the existential dilemma.
That's why they call him STUPID BOB.
