I’ve been working on a blog post for Friday about what I was up to twenty-nine years ago (it’s an anniversary–but more on that on Friday).
Meanwhile, I’ve encountered a nifty bit of kit that, twenty-nine years ago, I would most definitely have wanted to own. I present to you, from Magic Flight, the incredible Launch Box:
It comes in this tin Rubik’s-Cube-For-Stoners über box:
Everything slots neatly together, including rechargeable AA batteries and their case, and there are heartfelt sayings, carved on the Launch Box and painted on the tin. These sayings are, I imagine, just gnomic enough to be either deeply mysterious or highly risible, depending on your usual response to herbal alteration.
The method is ingenious: you grind your, ah, material to a fine consistency (pestle and mortar = perfect), open the box, drop the material in the centre trench, press the battery to the contact for 3-5 seconds, which heats an element sufficiently to vaporises the aromatics in the material, then you draw. No flame. No smoke. No noise. Barely any smell (except the herb itself, of course). Given the practise I’d had with smoking 29 years ago, I bet you any money I could have extracted every whiff of vapour from the draw.
So now I’m thinking ‘Magic Flight’ might mean something like, ‘Wow, you could use it on a plane.’ (I’m thinking this as a novelist, you understand, not an advocate. I’m sure Federal Aviation rules forbid it. They forbid electronic cigarettes, after all.)
Mainly I’m fascinated by the sheer ingenuity of people. I would have coveted this gear three decades ago. I loved finding new way to smoke hash (which I gave up when I was 24, just to be crystal clear): joints, of course (I made the best in town), on a pin under glass, through a carrot (and then you eat the carrot), via a supercharged fire-extinguisher (just once–dangerous, but fun), and, my favourite, hot knives. I loved hash on hot knives. But this cool gadget would have gone to the top of my wishlist.
And, ah, look, Amazon’s Universal Wishlist will accept that item. Pretty wild. The world really has changed since I was doing this stuff.
Now I’ll get back to mumbling, tugging on my floppy cardigan, and ordering those kids off my lawn…
Nicola Griffith 
I am stunned. I am in awe. I only smoked other peoples' dtuff because I was too poor to buy any. I used a folded match cover for a roach clip. The experience was pleasant, but the equipment was obviously inferior.
barbara, part of the joy of social intoxication is the attendant ritual, whether it's the wine tasting and toasts, or handrolling and nods. There are ritual vocabularies, behaviour, etc. It all adds to the sense of excitement, specialness, and bonding. IMO.
Have obviously only experienced the vanilla version of hash… Brow still furrowed re: pin and carrot…
Jude, the pin: stick pin through beer mat, stick hash on pin. Set it on fire. Cover with a glass. When glass fills with smoke, slide glass over edge of beer mat, cover with mouth, and inhale. Wham. Carrot: you turn it into a chillum.
“…stick pin through beer mat, stick hash on pin. Set it on fire. Cover with a glass. When glass fills with smoke, slide glass over edge of beer mat, cover with mouth, and inhale.
I face-planeted into the edge of the desk top while kneeling down to do this more times than I care to admit.
Thanks Nico, I'm still chuckling at all of this – furrows gone from brow. Last time I had hash I underestimated the height a beach wall in Whitstable and broke 2 or 3 ribs. Luckily I'd been drinking cognac too so didn't feel any pain – for a while… That was 10 yrs ago with Bea, It was good to be led astray ; )
Kathleen, well, I was always a fan of bringing the gear to me and not me to the gear :) But, yeah, it's a pretty effective delivery method :)
Jude, blimey, that seems extreme. I don't think I ever injured myself while stoned. I hope you healed well.