Oahu In 1982

Oahu in 1982. Cannabis went by another name other than all the slang names associated with it. Maui Wowie, Kona Gold, Kauai Electric, Puna Butter and a bunch of others. In Hawaii it was called Pakalolo by the locals.

Local musicians were singing songs about it, musicians like Don Ho, Makaha Sons, Hui Ohana, Peter Moon and the list goes on. It was being grown on every island and in every county. In back yards, sugarcane fields, the forests and the scrub lands. It was every where, including an area behind my house. I got the seeds from an unlikely source and that is where I will begin.

I get a call from my best friend, surfing buddy, softball team mate and beer drinking companion, when we drank beer which was not that often. We preferred Pakalolo. He calls and says “What’s up Brudha.” I say “Eh, howzit” He says “I’ve got a problem.” I say “How can I help?” That’s the kind of friendship we have. He goes on to tell me about his sister’s latest admirer. I am reluctant to say boyfriend because she went through boyfriends like a baby goes through diapers. A description of the character of the current admirer is what is found in diapers and we all know what you find in them. So, he finally finishes expressing his opinions about the admirer and I find out why he is so mad, he usually doesn’t get involved. It seems that the admirer has stolen money from the princess’s purse. I call her the princess because she is as care free as an irresponsible royal that lives off her subject’s labors, which in her case are her parents.

My friend says “My dad is telling me to go kick Promo’s ass.” Promo, is the name my friends dad gave to the admirer, he said the name meant someone who acquires something by devious means; Fitting description, I think to myself. “He deserves it, I say” Then he says “My mom said to pick you up first.” I say “Okay, so pick me up.” There is a long silence. “Hello” I say. I thought he had hung up. He says “that’s the problem.” What’s the problem? I ask. He says that Promo also took the car that his parents gave to both he and his sister to share, though the princess doesn’t know the meaning of sharing, unless it is sharing the bill regarding gas money for the car she doesn’t share. That’s why in our friendship I do most of the driving. He says “Pick me up down the street. I don’t want my dad to know, he might tell me to kill him.” I laugh, but I also wonder, his dad was a serious man about some things and his family is one of them. I jump into my car and go pick him up. I ask “so where are we going?” He thinks about this for a moment then says “the park, he hangs out with his crew there.” So we drive to the park and what do we see, my friends car.

The princess would disagree with the ownership reference. Its right side wheels up on the curb. He says something I won’t repeat, but I concur. We get out and see Promo on the basketball court riding a scooter. This guy is Twenty two years old. I also see what looks like a little kid watching him but his head is lowered. We approach closer and see his crew, five of the finest citizens in the neighborhood drinking beer, throwing cans and teasing this little kid who I now deduce has had his scooter taken and I see is crying. Now I am really mad. This blanking guy and his blanking friends have gone too far. I look at my friend, he looks at me and our faces mirror the anger and hatred we hold for those who pick on the weaker and smaller.

Now, my friend is more muscular than me, he played football in school and was good. I on the other hand surfed too much. I say “you take Promo, I’ll take the guy who is currently pushing the kid in the back with his foot.” We break into a sprint. He sounds like a steam powered train chugging up a steep grade. I am lighter on my feet, at least in my opinion. I watched a hockey game once where one player blind-sided the other. This took the other player out of the game. That’s the move I am intending, also remember there are six of them and two of us so ethics be damned. We reach our targets at approximately the same instant; my friend is fast for his size. There is a stunning crash and Promo flips 180 degrees and lands upside down. My target rotates only 90 degrees but is also on the ground. Without further discussion we launch into contact with the remaining members of Promo’s crew. The kid is now jumping up and down cheering us on. He is releasing all the frustration one feels when outnumbered and overpowered. Through the haze of battle I hear a siren burp. Hawaii Five-O has arrived and Promo is picked up by his crew and dragged to the chain link fence at the back of the park, it’s a small park with a fence surrounding it. I also see Promo is having difficulty climbing as well as the recipient of my hockey move.

Promo removes something from around his waist and throws it. It appeared to be some kind of small bag or pouch. They make their escape over the fence never looking back before Steve McGarrett can affect an arrest. My friend looks at me and says “we go.” I look at the police and they see who we are, it is a small community and besides to run would infer guilt on our part. We were the ones stolen from and other than fighting we are innocent. The cops see we are not running and they approach. A young woman is running into the park and the kid is also running to her, must be his mom I think to myself. We are questioned by the officers of Five-O and we give our side of the story. The mom approaches flaring with anger and says “don’t you dare think of arresting these guys, they were protecting my son, and where were you when my sons scooter was taken and he was being pushed around by six assholes three times his size, huh?” Five-O looks sufficiently put in there place and they leave. The mom thanks us profusely, well she seems to be paying more attention to my friend. The kid says “Thanks for getting my scooter back.” I say “you would have done the same for us wouldn’t you?” He looks at me with a serious expression and says “I would.” I say “I know you would have, buddy.” He smiles and pulls his small shoulders back and walks to his mom and they wave good bye.

My friend is standing there waiting for me and says, “where you going?” when I turn for the fence. I say over my shoulder that Promo threw something in the grass when they were getting away. He follows me and we search the long grass at the base of the fence. I see a black pouch lying there and I pick it up and open it. There are my friend’s car keys and money in loose bills and three film containers that are black with gray tops. I toss him the bag after taking the film containers out. They don’t feel like they have rolls of film in them. I open them up to see and smell pakalolo. I tell my friend what I’ve found and his eyebrows raise and he smiles. We partake in the spoils of the victorious and go to his house. When we reach the house everyone is outside waiting for us. My friend’s father has already gotten three calls to inform him of his sons activities and also that the guy who surfed too much was with him, like I said, it’s a small community and word travels fast. My friend’s mother and father rush down the drive and envelope us in hugs and questions of are we okay? My friend’s father squeezes me so hard I lose my breath and his mother hugs me and says that she can always count on me. The princess even condescends to thank me and bats her eyes. I roll mine. The phone was still ringing when they invited me for dinner.

Now, I know what some of you may be thinking. He stole Promos pakalolo. My defense is he was the one who stole the princesses money and my friends car and he threw the pakalolo away when Hawaii Five-O showed up and the law states that once you throw something away you no longer have claim to privacy or personal effects of the item. So, we recovered the thrown away items and took possession. This is where we began and now we know where the seeds came from. A week or so before this story took place Promo was going around town claiming to be selling Thai pakalolo that was really from Thailand he claimed. My friend asked him for an ounce that he never came through with. The pakalolo that we “found” was about three eighths in weight and was quite good. It had a musky flavor from a foreign land with a spicy sweet finish. The effect was humorously satisfying combined with a feeling of well being that made you want eat something and take a nap.

My friend and I planted a crop behind my house and within a short while the plants were doing better than I could have hoped for. By now my only complaint was that this strain had a long maturation rate. It had been sixteen weeks into the flowering stage and they still were not finished, though they were spectacular. Now, I am known as a pakalolo snob, but I prefer the term connoisseur. I like high quality pakalolo that was ripened to its full maturity. Many people, professionals included harvest too early. They harvest by the visual appearance of the flowers and of size alone. I go by all the indications mentioned but also by the condition of the trichomes viewed under magnification and by the most important factor, intuition.

This intuitive sense that I have developed with the plant can only be explained through a mystical connection. That connection and my visual and olfactory senses were telling me that it would be ready in two days. I called my friend and gave him the good news. He was excited due to the fact that half the crop was his. The next morning I hit the dawn surf patrol at one of our favorite spots. I didn’t bother calling my friend he was not a morning person, good waves or not. In fact the waves were huge, bigger than I ever remembered at this time of year at this break. I’ll be honest I got out of the water because the conditions were hazardous. I drove home and as I stopped by my friend’s house I noticed that the wind was really blowing. Something was telling me that this was a warning. My friend’s mom fed us lunch and the wind kept rising. His dad comes home and now I know something is wrong and I am right. He says hello to me and tells us that a Hurricane is going to hit this afternoon. My friend and I exchange a look and we jump up and head for my house. I lived in the hills and when we reach my house the wind is a steady blast with intermittent explosions. We put on our boots and troop to the grow site. We find broken plants and branches but we are in time to save the crop. My mysticism tells me we are a day early but there is no choice. Harvest now or loose the crop. We harvested now. We got a bumper crop that year and survived the hurricane and that is the year I started experimenting with indoor operations but that is another story.

Maximum Quantities to you and yours and look out for the Promos. GroPro Guys