Okay we all agree, our society, our very way of living is in jeopardy. Unemployment, corporate greed, prices for healthy foods, fruits and vegetables are streaking out of reach. This country is a land of haves and have not’s. Brothers and sisters fail to communicate due to small discrepancies’ of opinion. Parents and children are separated by a gulf of technology.
Doctors prescribe lethal compounds in miniscule doses. While narcotic peddlers sell cut down products in larger quantities. The consumer sets the market price by paying inflated fees for substandard fare. Meth labs migrate across blighted barrios and housing tracts. Cocaine derivatives eat ragged paths to what’s left of a semi-functional brains.
But, once upon a time in the early seventies there were tablets. Shiny white circular transporters of bliss. At first the numbers 712 were etched below the RORER in the chalky surface. Then the advent of the 714, best pill the world has ever known. Chill you out in a half hour. Put a smile where there once was a frown. Rev-Up the libido in both male and female servers.
They were handy to traffic at a concert or the local hang-out. They were neat and effective. I still get enraged that they removed them from the market. They claimed they were addictive. Well so are cigarettes and liquor. We all bare witness, these two money-makers kill a hell of a lot more people than the lil ole 714 ever did or would.
And let’s not diminish the role these ludes played in early 70’s hand and mouth calisthenics. It enabled many an awkward male adolescent to experience the female persona. Using this pliable tool an unpopular nerd could feel like a God, for a night and a nominal fee. Imagine the good cheer distributed liberally through the Greater Northeast.
Now all was not good in those yesteryears. I am sure somebody knows or loved a victim of overdose from Quaaludes, and I am sorry for the loss. Yet when I read about the myriad of street opiates, crack, meth, what we used to call MDA, they now call Ecstasy, I believe these by themselves and combined with alcohol are more of a scourge than a 714. A better choice than codeine, morphine, Zanex or Prozac.
There is nothing wrong with feeling a sense of joy, whether it’s caused by chemicals associated with love, accomplishment or a man-made concoction, it is the enjoyment of moments that count, along with the experience of taking responsibility for ones actions.
So anyone out there that still partakes of these wondrous chemicals, bon appetite. Have one on me.
COPYRIGHT 2017 GLENN A SEGAL