Hands off my stash, man.
It was a time when the sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll was the battle cry for many. The only question was what percent sex, what percent drugs and what percent rock ‘n’ roll. As Bob Seger put it, “Workin’ on mysteries without any clues/Workin’ on our night moves/Tryin’ to make some front page drive-in news…”
Double albums were perfect to use in cleaning a bag of sketchy weed and then rolling a number before dinner. And, where did all those faucet screens go anyway? Just sayin.’ One enterprising student felt passing a joint while driving a car was unsafe. So, he (or was it she?) installed a spring loaded hookah in the glove box with individual surgical hoses for the driver, those in the back seat and the passenger (aka The Loader).
As for the music, our generation had a soundtrack that today is relegated to the Super Oldies station and way, way down the channel guide on streaming services. So, here’s a little salute to our Secret Stash and whatever helped us get by the with help of our friends.