The Lower High Way
“The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.” – Joseph Campbell
What a drag high school could be. Or maybe it was just school in general. Or maybe it was because by the time I reached high school I had already been to six different schools. Six schools in nine years, through eighth grade (counting kindergarten). And then high school came around, and I was in three schools in four years. So a total of nine different schools in my 13 years of public education. Yeah, that was probably it. Not much stability in that. And then add to that that I was a shy kid, so not much else for me to be but a loner. But I got used to that, even though I was in a large family. So, as the oldest of seven kids, I pretty much kept to myself. But oddly enough, I got good grades in school, but looking back now I think it was because it was too easy. I rarely felt challenged, and I just floated through with not a lot of effort.
My main escape was my own imagination. And boy could I put that into overdrive. At eleven and twelve I remember hording comic books and going into the closet with a flashlight, closing the closet and reading comic book after comic book. And flying away with my heroes to other worlds. And no one in family really knowing where I was. But then by the time I was 14, I found a Playboy magazine and everything changed. Even, of course, the direction of my imagination.
Once sweet 16 rolled around I was experimenting with the popular entertainment substances, which were definitely all the rage in the 60’s. Hey it was 1968 and the summer of love, and I wasn’t going to miss that. The world really changed a lot after that, and so did I. Much has already been written by others about that era, so I won’t rehash it all again here. Actually, what was more important to me was the new direction my own personal journey was taking. I thought it was cool. But no, it really wasn’t it. Drugs had taken a hold of me, and I thought they were the way to my salvation. Salvation from what, who knew? But I did know I wasn’t actually a happy camper, even if temporarily I thought I was. So what could be better than that? Yeah, right.
And then they happened again, but under these altered circumstances. More OOBE’s … chemically-induced.
The first one happened at a rock concert, and I thought I’d lost my mind, or had for sure been sent to the great beyond. It happened so quick, as I popped of my body very hard and found myself flying around the concert arena. Before I realized it I was near the stage and could see the performers. And something else started to panic me. Everyone was moving in slow motion … and I could not hear any sound. Except for that same constant background buzzing sound I had heard as a child.
This was taking me to my limit. I knew I wanted out of here, now. And the next thing I knew I was flying back to my body and jolted right back into it. Immediately all the loud sounds of the people and concert came back, as well as all the normal physical motions. My senses were so startled and overloaded I jumped up out of my seat and ran out of the concert. Years later I would realize what had happened, but for a high school kid this was over the line. Luckily, it began to lead me away from these types of self-induced experiences.