Tuesday, June 09, 2020

Glad to Be Part of the Movement

A friend noted that liberals freed the slaves, gave women and blacks the right to vote, voted in the civil rights act and twenty other things. I felt compelled to add this:
    Damned fucking straight! This is what we liberals did and I am proud that I wrote and marched against the Vietnam war, for Women's rights, for Gay rights, for LGBT rights, to end prison privatization, for the Americans and Mexicans to take their place in out society, for the rights of Weed smokers and growers when I worked for so many years at High Times, for the end of forfeiture laws connected to marijuana, for the environment, for peace, and for everyone to get a square deal while we live together on this planet. I still have work to do and I am ready and able. If I can't march anymore, I can still write. Victory to decency!

Friday, June 05, 2020

Good Food Found in the Fridge

Like most of us, I have been spending time concentrating on trump's attempted coup of the USA, the murder of George Floyd, the collapsed economy, the racial divide in our country, and COVID-19. I've also been watching the bunker boy trump ease and erase control on the EPA and infrastructure rules, while he gasses church rectors to get a photo op holding a bible upside down and backwards.
I have also had to see that the shopping was done, do the cooking, and clean up.
Tonight I  was not in the mood to cook and was thinking about getting pizza. We have two pretty good joints near me, mom and pops, and while they are not Manhattan, Brooklyn, Philly or Chicago, are still pretty good for texas.
But then I looked into the fridge. I was startled by the leftovers. There was two or three pounds of potato and egg salad and 4 chicken legs, plus marinated and grilled veggies from a barbeque a few nights ago.There was a nice hot sausage in chicken velouté we'd used on thin pasta. There was a bowl of meatless dahl made with small red beans, a bowl of raita (cucumber salad in yogurt with cumin), some pork vindaloo, a fajita stew, five pieces of lime chicken (my invention: Chicken breasts dressed in breadcrumbs and grated parmesan, sauteed, then baked with fresh lime juice), and one piece of sauteed salmon done in ginger, teriyaki, garlic and sesame oil with a candied skin. There is also an almost new loaf of sourdough that we used last night to make grilled Virginia ham and Swiss cheese sandwiches with tomatoes. And plenty of left over ham, plus two good avocados, fresh cucumber and a beefsteak tomato.
Damn. I hope my family shows up in the new bar my kids Italo, Marco, and my granddaughter Taylor Rain made to eat some of this.
If they don't want it, I guess I'll just order pizza. Dang.
Dang.

Friday, May 29, 2020

Agent Provocateurs

During the protests of the Vietnam war, both in New York and Washington, DC, most of the violence was started by agents provocateur. Sometimes they were crazies, sometimes they worked for the police or the FBI, sometimes they were paid by the police or the FBI. 
    From the looks of the white guy who was filmed breaking all the windows in Autozone, it looks like he was one of those. 
   Once the powers that be decide they do not like the television version of what is going on, the best way to change it is to send in someone to commit violent acts, allowing the police to respond to all protesters with violence. That, in turn, produces real violence. 
   Right now, with all the photos of white people looting stores, and with the film of the white guy breaking the windows at Autozone, I suspect that's exactly what is going on here. Create violence to change the perception of what is/was happening.

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

Life Hack Beauty Tip

When I got my first apartment in NYC when I was 19, my neighbor in the tenement apartment next to mine, an elderly but sprightly woman, used to rub bacon grease into her face every evening. She would rub and rub, then put her face over hot water to get rid of it. she swore it eliminated wrinkles, and by god, she didn't have a one! 
And then, of course, when I was a chef in NYC once a week a 
fat-render would come from the Ivory soap plant in Queens, NY to buy my fry grease to make Ivory soap, shampoos, and facial products with, so I think my neighbor was on to something.

Monday, May 25, 2020

It's raining in Joshua, Texas

I've spoken on this before, but I'm gonna speak on it again. I hope you don't mind.
It's raining outside here in Joshua, Texas. Been raining pretty much since yesterday afternoon. The greens get greener as the roots of the trees and grass get to lap up the fresh rain water in the earth.
And I am reminded of the beauty of green magic. That water will find its way to streams, and rivers, and finally oceans. Some of it will evaporate quickly; some will take a longer time. But all of it will make its way around the world sooner or later. All of it will appear as rain on oasis, or on Chinese villages, or feed the Amazon jungle.
At its most vulgar, remember that what you pee today will water plants that feed a yak or an elephant one day. And what that yak or elephant pees will feed the vegetables that feed your children and mine.
We are all so very, very connected. We are all so intertwined that we cannot do without one another. I am guilty of sometimes forgetting that. But I am a better person and this is a better world when I remember it and remember to live it.

Friday, May 22, 2020

How Sister Somayah came to be a public figure.

How Sister Somayah came to be a public figure. In the early or mid 1990s a crazy woman began calling me at 3-4 AM about once a week at home. I'd anser my rotary dial phone and she'd cuss and cuss at me ant then hang up. After maybe 15-20 such calls I finally got her attention and asked what the hell she was calling me for and what could I do for her. He calmed a little and told me that white folks, very few of which get sickle cell anemia, were ignoring black folks who had the disease. then the hung up. Over the course of the next few weeks and next few phone calls, she explained, with a lot of cussing, that she was a black woman suffering from sickle cell and had had to leave the military — I think she was in Navy provisions — because of her illness. she said the US government provided all sickle cell patients with morphine two or three times a week to alleviate the pain, but that just made them junkies. She said that marijuana dilated the blood vessels and arteries and allowed the sickle cells to pass without causing unbearable pain. She was angry that High Times did not report on this. She called me because I was the editor of the Highwitness News. By chance, I had a friend doing a Masters thesis at (I think) Montefiore Hospital in the Bronx. She looked into patients getting morphine for sickle cell and then questioned hundreds and discovered that many, when they could afford marijuana, discovered it worked better than morphine and allowed them to work pain free again rather than being government junkies. so I wrote a story about her and the movement picked her up and the issue got out there and she was marvelous when the spoke about marijuana. And that's that.

Monday, May 18, 2020

I disagree with friends about the pandemic

So I have friends, friends I love, who do not believe the pandemic is real. They think the government is slowly herding us into sheep by starting off with masks and social distancing. I think they are crazy.
They think Bill Gates and his (transsexual, they say) wife are trying to implant things in us. They think the Bildergergers are going to run the world.
I want to laugh and I want to strangle my friends for sheer stupidity.
If you have a smart phone, the government and 2,000 other agencies knows where you are at all times, from shitting to sleeping to fucking your neighbor's husband. If you have Siri or one of the others, you gave up your freedom willingly.
So there are no new tricks needed to know where you are 24/7. Hell, I have a land line with a rotary phone and it has been tapped since I went to work for High Times in 1986. When I brought my wife back from Peru's Jungle in 1994 she would call me once or twice a week to say the men with the blue suits -- the FBI-- were at our door, asking to come in for a minute. I always told her to tell them no,
But they were there twice a week. they knew who we were. The difference between me and paranoia is I accepted it and did not care. I moved a lot of marijuana for High Times centerfold or story shoots in the day and I did not care that they knew I was doing it. When child services came to check out my boys during a separation between my wife and myself, I told them to tell the truth about the pot in the house if they asked.
My point is that being fearful, running away, does not help. Smuggle in plain sight, wear the damned mask and do not be afraid that it suggests cowardice. Not wearing it represents a level of fear I hope I never achieve.
Stay strong, Stay smart. Do not fall prey to the bullshit that well-meaning people are putting out there. Just be yourself.

Saturday, May 16, 2020

Too Many Times with the Knife

I am getting tired of knives. I've been using them since I worked at Louie's candy store when I was seven or eight or nine. I used them at Cresthaven Country Club in Whitestone, Queens, New York when I was 14, 15, 16 and working the kitchen and day camp kitchen. I used them at home when mom asked me for help, and I used them with Philly B in my first apartment on 76th between 1st and 2nd Avenues when I started Hunter College. I used them at the Lodge Restaurant, and Jimmy Day's, and the Mad Hatter, and Arthur's Court, and the Banana Boat, and Bayard's — great restaurant/bar top to bottom — and at Wilson's, a standard bearer for years. I used them at Fellini's restaurant in Los Angeles, and I've used them at home with my family since 1994. i used them in my own restaurant, The Cold Beer Blues Bar in Iquitos, Peru from 1998-2001.
I am getting tired of cutting garlic and onions every night. I am tired of cutting parsley and squeezing it dry. I'm tired of cutting fucking Roma tomatoes and cilantro. I am tired of getting 120 slices out of every cucumber I've ever cut.
If i have made an average of 1,000 cuts a day for 60 years, that would come to roughly 20 million times I've brought a knife down on a cutting board. If I am wrong by half, that's still 10 million. that's probably as many times as Eric Clapton has played notes. He's probably tired of the guitar and I cannot blame him.
I will still cut. I'm just saying I'm getting tired of it and wish someone else would cut the damned onions!!!!!!!!!

Friday, May 15, 2020

Coronavirus death Percentages

I keep hearing and reading that caronavirus kills about .1-.3 percent. Nonsense. In the US we have 80,000 dead out of 1.4 million, which is more like 6 percent. Get that? 6 percent. Much more than the flu ever killed. Worldwide, out of 4 million tests, we have 300,000 deaths, about 7 percent. So please stop talking about .01 percent, or .3 percent. We are talking about 6-7 percent of known cases of coronavirus, COVID-19, resulting in death. Get it? Good. It's scary when you look at the numbers and stop believing the bologna on FB. Stay safe. Do not act out of fear, but act out of knowledge. You wouldn't walk into a gun held by a madman, would you? Don't drop your guard here either.

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Blood Pressure issues and Sapo/kambo (frog sweat medicine)

Someone asked about serving a patient sapo or kambo if they are on blood pressure medicine. I think I've gone over this before, but just in case I have not, here is my take-- though you should check with the person's doctor before making any decision to serve.

Normally you can work with sapo/kambo with high or low blood presure so long as you are ON your medication. The meds bring you to normal, so when the blood pressure drops while doing kambo (feels higher because more blood is going through your arteries and veins from vasodilation) the pressure medicine will quickly bring you back to normal. Still, always start lightly to make sure a new patient handles it well. You can always do more tomorrow. But if a person has high or low blood pressure and is NOT on their meds, do not serve them. That's where the danger lies.  And check with their doc first, of course. I hope that helps.

Tuesday, May 12, 2020

Bring Me Fresh Meat

Near the end of my book, Ayahuasca in My Blood, I have an interchange with Ayahuasca where she makes the demand that I bring her fresh meat. People have often asked me if  I ever resolved what Ayahuasca meant by that. I responded to one of those people with this, this morning.
    I've never gotten a straight answer from ayahuasca about what she meant. Like so many things, she offered the opportunity to me to figure it out. And I think it meant both that she wanted me fresh when I visited --as in do not have a glass of wine or three during the day of an experience, and also that she wanted me to bring new people, spread the word about her.

   This is where we run into an issue: I believe that all things have spirit, and that all spirits have desires and fears, in other words, an ego. In the case of ayahuasca, she labored in the Amazon and a bit in the mountains for a long, long time. She was a medicine and tool for those people. But when she was brought out to the Western world suddenly she was being revered – something I don't believe the indigenous ever did. (Respect, yes, revere, no.) I think that got to her spirit a little and she started taking herself very seriously, thinking she was very important, rather than recognizing that she was a spirit equal with all other spirits. Which is where the demand for more "fresh meat" came from: for a little while she was not seeing us as equal spirits but as fodder for her ego.
   So she needed a little reminder that she is not more important than other spirits. All spirits have things they can do, and she opens the doors to other worlds, other levels of reality, very well. But that does not make her those other worlds: She's just the one seeing what you need to learn and then opening the door to a place where you can learn that.
  I hope that makes sense.

Monday, May 11, 2020

Lots of leftovers


I went to grab a plate to put the leftover barbecued baby back ribs on and didn't have one that was the right size. That was odd. It was especially odd because I'd had to search for the right sized bowl to put the leftover franks and beans in-- a dish that had lots of garlic, onion, scallions, fresh tomatoes, brown sugar, mustard, cilantro, and some dark beer.
So I went to the fridge and was taken aback by what was there. There was a small piece of salmon in a sesame oil dressing with long red-pepper spears, scallions, and ginger. There was a bowl of marinara sauce I made a coupe of days ago. There were two roasted chicken thighs from the same night we had the spaghetti marinara. There was half-a-pan's worth of delicious meatloaf. There were a couple of things older than three or four days and I put them in bags for the dogs and chickens and ducks.
I made the ribs last night -- but I didn't have any -- just in case the others, my daughter Madeleina and my friend Devon, didn't like the sandwich I made for dinner. It was an avocado, tomato, and cucumber sandwich with fresh, smoked mozzarella on sourdough bread that was seasoned with some mayo, a teaspoon of garlic-infused olive oil, and horseradish sauce.
It turned out they loved the sandwich as much as I did, which is why I have so many ribs left over!
I got to stop wasting all my money on this good food and the plastic wrap I need to wrap all the leftovers!

Saturday, May 09, 2020

Working on the Cookbook

Working on the cookbook. Been working on it for several months now and getting fairly close to finish. The problem is that with each section, as I get close to finishing it, I think of a few new recipes I have to add. Or I think that I have to put at least one or two little stories in each section.
Today I was finishing up the "Burgers and a Few Sandwiches" section. I got a few down, then came to the Reuben. I don't make the Reuben in a traditional way, with corned beef. Here's what I wrote:
Reuben
Every recipe in every cookbook will tell you to make this sandwich with corned beef. That’s pretty traditional. But when I worked at Jimmy Day’s Restaurant in New York’s West Greenwich Village back in the day, we made it with pastrami and that’s what I still think makes the best damned Reuben in the world.
I’ve got to say a word or two about Jimmy Day’s. It was not far to the west of 6th Ave. It was probably my second job in a restaurant as a grown up. I had a small apartment on Broom St. just off 6th at the time, so it made sense to try to get a gig not far from home.
Now I don’t remember exactly how many seats the joint had, but it was far bigger than my first job at The Lodge. I want to say I think it sat about 82 people. The kitchen was tiny, and the crowd came in surges. I would get in at about 6 PM and work with the chef till 8 ish. Then he would leave and I was on my own — with a dishwasher, of course — until 2 AM, when the kitchen closed.
We had a pretty big menu but it was mostly easy stuff to make: Eggs, steak and eggs, meatloaf, burgers, chops, spaghetti, and sandwiches dominated. Not a problem, except that the crowd was used to very fast service. I could look up after finishing five plates and see eight new chits calling for 25 meals staring me in the face. You either learned speed and dexterity — working the oven, grill, meat and cheese slicers, deep fryer, and the six-burner stove simultaneously — or you quit. I thought of quitting quite a lot at first because I was so overwhelmed. I’m glad I didn’t because I really learned speed work — without sacrificing quality — while I was there, something that made a huge difference in my whole career.
A lot of the guests were weight lifters who wanted their steaks trimmed of all fat and then wanted three fried egg whites on them. Or they wanted egg white omelets with their steak or pork chops. My hands flew separating out those eggs.
Now one of our big sellers was the Reuben. I’d toss two slices of rye bread into the grill to toast them. I’d pull them out quickly and put them on an oval metal sizzle plate, and put Russian dressing on one side of each slice of the toasted rye bread.
I’d slice a good portion, maybe six ounces or more, of fresh pastrami on the slicer, and toss that on the bread, splitting it evenly. I’d top that with sauerkraut we always had on the stove, then top each slice of bread with good Swiss cheese. Toss that into the grill till the cheese melted, pull it, and slide it, open faced onto a plate. Add pickles and coleslaw and done. Ring the bell, get it out of here.
That is still my favorite way to make a Reuben.
So go to your nearest Jewish deli and get six or seven ounces of very thinly sliced pastrami for each sandwich you’re making. Pick up a nice loaf of rye while you’re there.
Home, heat your oven to 350º.
While it’s heating up, put sauerkraut on the stove at medium heat. Add a tablespoon of garlic in olive oil for each sandwich. You want the kraut to start to brown and get a rich, deep flavor, so the longer you cook it the better it gets. Add a little white vinegar or dill pickle juice to it if it starts to dry out and burn. Oh, and turn down the heat on it.
So the pastrami is ready, the kraut is cooking, the oven is getting hot. Time to make your Russian dressing.
For each sandwich — two open halves each, remember — you need about two table spoons of mayonnaise, one good squirt of ketchup, and a tablespoon of pickle relish (sweet or not, your choice) or chopped up sweet and hot Jalepeños. Mix that up, then toss your bread into the oven or toaster to toast it.
When the bread is toasted, bathe one side of each slice with the Russian dressing, top with the pastrami. Top that with the perfect sauerkraut, and then top the whole shebang with a couple of slices of Swiss on each half.
Put your open sandwich halves onto a baking sheet and bake for about 5 minutes, or until the cheese is righteously melted.
Pull sandwiches, plate them, add a couple of dill pickle spears and a dollop of coleslaw and get after it.
Thanks, Jimmy Day’s. I loved working that speed factory!

Tuesday, May 05, 2020

Ridiculous Meme and My Responses

Here is a ridiculous meme going around asking nutty questions. I've answered them. This is a haul folks, so get a glass of wine and relax while you read through.
I got this from a good friend and could not let it go unanswered:
Sharing from a friend:
Everyone should be asking these questions! 👇🏼
These are the important questions folks need to be asking themselves:
1. Why can you go to Walmart but not Kohl's?
Answer: Kohl's sells clothes and shoes, not food. Supermarkets are necessary; clothing stores not so much. But you can still order Kohl's stuff online.
2. Why the Dollar store and not a mom-and-pop shop?
Answer: Dollar General here in Texas sells a lot of food stuff, cheaply, making it vital for poor people. Mom and Pop stores are open here as well, depending on what they sell. If they sell food, they are open.
3. Why can't you have an elective surgery, but you can have an abortion which is elective?
Answer: Elective surgery, like the surgery on my prostate, can wait. Abortions become more difficult as time goes by, so calling them "elective" is disingenuous.
4. Why should you stay inside but yet heat and sunlight kill the virus?
Answer: No one is supposed to stay inside. Go out all you want here in the USA, but don't mingle much (though that is fairly ignored). In Peru you are welcome to enjoy the sun in your yard or porch all day long.
5. Why can't kids (who are not at risk) play on an outdoor playground, where sun kills this virus?
Answer: Kids at an outdoor playground will get saliva on one another, making the risk of their bringing Covid home to parents and grandparents dangerously high. Like everyone else they can play in their yards or on the rooves of their apartment buildings, like a lot of us did.
6. Why don't people know that these are "recommendations" not laws because they have not gone through due process?
Answer: Here in the USA people know these are recommendations and some people protest them by not wearing masks and congregating. The incidence of covid among them rises dramatically after such actions, of course. In some places, Marshall law has been declared, but not in the US. Restaurants near me have never closed.
7. Why is it okay for government officials to get a haircut, but not common citizens?
Answer: I have no idea why govt officials can get a haircut. If they can go to a barber, they should pay a steep fine for risking my life for their ego. The rest of us have friends cutting our hair.
8. Why the fear, when this virus has a less than 1% death rate?
Answer: In the USA we have 70,000 out of 1.2 million, which is about 6 percent, not 1 percent. Worldwide it's closer to 7 percent. And those numbers are low becuse of lack of testing, Florida's prohibition of publising the covid death numbers, etc.
9. Why have coroners questioned death certificates listed as CV-19?
Answer: People die from kidney problems, heart problems, pneumonia and a host of other things that they would not have had if not infected by covid-19. So some people question whether those are really covid-19 deaths. They are if the dead in question would not have died if they didn't have covid-19 to create/exacerbate other problems.
10. Why are areas like Chicago and NY gearing up for mass vaccination?
Answer: New York and Chicago have very dense populations. On a given "normal" day in Manhattan you might pass within 5 feet of 10,000 or more people just going to and coming from the subway. While I am not a fan of vaccinations I can see why densely populated areas would think it would be a good idea.
11. What makes one person essential and another not?
Answer: Some jobs, like doctors and nurses and hospital orderlies are obviously essential. So are police, garbage men, firemen, morturary workers and people who provide food. I'/m a jounalist and not essential to be working among others except occasionally--otherwise I can work from home. Someone who tends a zoo is essential to keeping those animals in his or her charge alive and healthy. We love barbers and nail salon people, but if we don't have their services for a few weeks, nothing will die. So they, like me, are non-essential.
12. Doesn't shelter at home; mean there is a whole population of people, not staying home so we can?
Answer: Yes, essential workers are out there on the dangerous front lines. But once off work they should go back and shelter at home too.
13. Why are they dividing us?
Answer: Red herring. No one is dividing us if we don't play into the selfishness of others.
14. How do people not know that we are a Republic, not a democracy?
Answer: Another red herring. Sticking this in a series of questions about covid-19 is just silly.
15. Where has the flu gone?
Answer: Still here, killing as many as it generally does.
16. Why do the homeless consistently demonstrate the lowest infection rates?
Answer: They don't.
17. Why are they telling us to mask up after 2 months of lockdown?
Answer: It's been 5-6 weeks of separation, not lockdown (at least not here in the USA) but we wear masks so we don't spit, cough, or sneeze on other people, as that is how people get infected
18. Why is the CDC saying kids need to be masked when they return to school or attend church, when they know cloth masks restrict oxygen?
Answer: You are really, really reaching here.
19. What is this oppression and loss of liberty doing to the mental health of our kids and to us?
Answer: Calling basic safety precautions "opression" gives away your extreme right wing political bent. Not good. Staying apart and not hugging our friends and kids is certainly taking an emotional and mental toll, but it beats dying.
20. Why have most other death rates dropped since the virus?
Answer: They have not. Stop peppering these questions with bologna.
21. Why did world leaders meet in China in October 2019?
Answer: They didn't. The Summit was cancelled. There was a G-20 meet in June, 2019, a regularly scheduled meeting of the G-20.
22. Why are the common people being controlled by the government and no one is controlling the government?
Answer: Who is being controlled by the government? No one is controlling the government because trump has been given a free hand by McConnell and his ass kissers.
23. Why are hospitals paid more for Covid 19 deaths?
Answer: I think this is phony, but if they are it's because covid-19 deaths are freaking expensive to handle becuse of the possibility of contagion.
24. Why are some doctors speaking out and then getting silenced?
Becuse plastic surgeons and people who are advertising their businesses have nothing to add to the dialog except to endanger people
25. Why did Obama give the Wuhan lab $334 million dollars?
Answer: It was $3.7 million, not $334 million, and it was over a seven year period. It was given by NIH and a chunk of it was given by trump. Very little went to Wuhans virology lab as most went to a non-profit eco firm
26. What does a computer geek have to do with a pandemic and why does he want 7 billion corona virus vaccines?
Answer: Good god, now you're movig into the Gates conspiracy theories?
27. Why ID 2020, Agenda 21 and 2030?
Answer: Because you are freaking, flaming paranoid.
28. Why did the CDC have a job posting for pandemic relief workers in November 2019?
Answer: CDC posts job openings regularly. Only the very paranoid fringe -- and unhinged -- right wing nuts thought that was unusual, though they post job openings all the time, including for pandemic relief workers.
29. Why did Dr. Fauci say in 2017 that the Trump administration would be faced with a " SURPRISE PANDEMIC " and then runs the pandemic team?
Answer: Because we were due for a pandemic. They arrive every several years and it was time.
30. Why are they infringing on Christians religious freedoms?
Answer: Because you are fucking weenies who are the most priveleged people but who think you are infringed upon. Grow some balls you dickless schmucks.
31. Why can 500 people shop at Menards or Home Depot, but we are not allowed to go into a church building?
Answer: Because the things you need to keep your home operating are at Menards and Home Depot, and God is within you, not in a church.

Monday, May 04, 2020

Stolen Lawnmower

So I'm out here in bucolic Joshua, Texas. Outside of the few blocks of town everybody has an acre or 50, and there are lots of neighbors' homes I've never seen because they are hidden behind tree stands or just too far back on the property to get a look at.
People here are nice: In my 18 years here since moving from New York I've never been robbed, never had an issue with anyone. Until a few days ago.
I've got a huge garage that is normally unlocked that has lots of stuff in it, much of which someone might want. I also have a small cabin that has some stuff in it.
Nothing ever touched.
Now last week my lawnmower stopped and my son Italo took it apart, found out what was not working, ordered the part and left the mower on or near the porch of the cabin.
Part came in a couple of days ago and Italo came over to install it and put the mower back together.
Only problem was that someone had stolen the mower. Who the hell steals a push electric lawnmower that is several years old with its motor taken apart? What kind of nimnod does that?
I'm still pissed because now I have to lock the garage and cabin, and I have to get a new mower, but what the heck: They could have just rolled away the tractor-mower if they were gonna rob me. It was right next to the broken mower.
Takes all kinds, I guess.

Sunday, May 03, 2020

Another of My Teachers has Passed

More than 30 years ago, after a year of trying to get included, I was invited, as a journalist, to a Native American Church peyote ceremony just outside of Durango, Colorado. The story I wrote was the first of three I did on the church over a period of a few years for High Times magazine in the late 1980s. Malcolm MacKinnon, a wonderful photographer, took the photos.
I also attended several ceremonies I didn't write about. Three outstanding teachers of mine came from that group: Bertha Grove, a healer who was the matriarch of the Southern Ute band that held the ceremonies; Bertha's brother Everett, a powerful human and an extraordinary Peyote Roadman; and Bertha's son Junior.
Bertha and Everett passed some years ago, but I still reach out to the ether they left behind for advice and strength. Now Junior, a strong buck of a man and, like his uncle Everett a wonderful Peyote Roadman, has just passed. I will sing him on his way though I suspect he's clear enough to get there without my help.
Thank you for everything, Junior. I hope you don't mind my reaching out sometimes for your help.
And thank you, Malcolm, for this wonderful shot of a younger me with Junior.

Monday, April 20, 2020

Oldie but Goodie

A friend of mine reposted this yesterday on FB from April 19, 2017. It's an oldie but goodie and I was very surprised to see someone repost it three years after the fact.

With Trump it never stops. The nonsense, the lies, the overt corruption...just keeping a light track of it is like shooting fish in an aquarium: You can't miss. Today's notes: We've just discovered that while the Pres had dinner--and that really good chocolate cake--with the Chinese President Xi Jinping just over a week ago, the dinner during which Trump decided that China was not a currency manipulator after all, and that North Korea was a more complex issue than he'd imagined, his daughter Ivanka was also at the table, and that she immediately got three trademarks for her wares there. What coincidence! And yes, that was a meal we all paid for; not White House meal payments, of course, but the Mar-a-Lago charges, which come to you complete with the cost of rooms for the Chinese Pres and his group, the room rentals for the secret service detail, etc. So he made out, his daughter made out, and China made out. Only we citizens of the USA were on the short end.
    

We also discovered yesterday that the aircraft carrier Carl Vinson and strike group that Trump told us was being sent to the Korean peninsula as a show of force by Trump actually went to Indonesia for a scheduled training mission with Australia. In any event, the Vinson group headed nowhere near Korea. Sort of embarrassing if you're the commander-in-chief and make this big threat announcement and it turns out nobody told anybody in the military about it.
Then we've got Monday's call to congratulate Turkey's President Erdogen on a narrow win in a very tainted referendum election. Erdogen is a horror on human rights, so much so that even the New York Post, a completely reliable mouthpiece for Trump, called him out on it, noting that: "Mr. President, you're the leader of the free world; you shouldn't come off as cheering a rigged election that sets back the cause of freedom." Man, when the Post comes down on Donny boy, you know it's bad. \

   
Oh, and then as a kicker, Trump signed an executive order to Buy American, Hire American, which will make it harder to hire non-Americans on work visas and bring up the cost of some foreign made exports. Which could be a good thing of only Donald Trump and his daughter had anything of theirs made in America. Or if Eric Trump would hire US citizens for work in his vineyard; or if Donald Trump would hire US citizens to work at Mar-a-Lago. Ah well, the hits just keep coming.
 

More tomorrow, I'm sure. I just want to keep score so there will be no confusion later.


Sunday, April 19, 2020

Bicycle Day!

It's Bicycle Day today, the day that Albert Hofmann took the first intentional dose of LSD back in Basel, Switzerland, while he was working for Sandoz Laboratories. I got a chance to interview Dr. Hofmann for High Times magazine for the 50th anniversary of LSD issue we did, and this is a section of the interview I did with him that relates to the famous bicycle ride he took to go home from his laboratory after purposefully ingesting the novel compound.

HT: How did you take it?
HOFMANN: I drank it. And within half-an-hour I began to experience similar symptoms to those I’d had three days earlier. But quite quickly they became very strong, very intense, and I became anxious, so I asked my laboratory assistant to accompany me home.
As it was wartime and I had no car, we went home by bicycle, and the bicycle ride was strange. And this bicycle ride, which was only about six kilometers from the lab to my little village, has been so important to the story of LSD. I don’t know why.

HT: Tell us about that ride and that first induced LSD experience.
HOFMANN: I had the feeling that time was standing still. It was a very strange feeling, one I’d never had before. There was a change in the experience of life, of time. But it was the most frustrating thing. I was already deep in the LSD trance, in LSD inebriation, and one of its characteristics, just on this bicycle trip, was of not coming from any place or going anyplace. There was absolutely no feeling of time.
At home I asked my assistant to call for a doctor. And as my wife and children were away for a few days, I also asked him to ask the neighbors for milk. Milk, you know, is known as an antitoxin in general.

HT: Did it help?
HOFMANN: Not at all. I was in a very odd state of consciousness. The outer world had changed. The room seemed to be full of life in the light, and colors were more intense. But I also had the feeling that I was changed, that my ego had changed. And then it became such a strange experience that I was afraid that I had gone insane. And sometime during that experience, at the climax, I had the feeling I was out of my body.
In the meantime the doctor my assistant called arrived and he tested my blood pressure and my head and such and he could not find anything abnormal, with the exception that the pupils of my eyes were enlarged. But nothing else.

HT: Did the doctor’s visit and his assurance that you were alright calm you down?
HOFMANN: No. I had the feeling I was going to die. I had no feeling in my body and thought I’d already left it, was already out of my body, which was something I couldn’t explain to the doctor. I couldn’t really speak rationally to explain that I had made an experiment, either. He wouldn’t have understood that.
So he sat with me through that very difficult experience—horribly difficult—and after about four or five hours the feeling began to change. I felt that I was coming from this very strange other world back to our normal world. And I had the feeling, when I came back from this strange world, that our normal world, which ordinarily we don’t think is wonderful, was a wonderful world. I saw it in a new light. It was a rebirth.
But this happy feeling was only at the end of the experience. And when I came back I closed my eyes and had beautiful, colored visions. It was of course very strange. There was a transformation of every sound in optical figures. Each noise produced a corresponding colored figure, which was very enjoyable.
Finally I went to sleep, and in the morning I was completely fresh. I had the feeling that I was seeing the world as it was on the very first day of creation.

Monday, March 23, 2020

I Am the Face of Potential Coronavirus – And It Does Not Feel Good


I am Peter Gorman. I have been writing for the Fort Worth Weekly since 2004, not long after I moved from New York to Texas for family reasons. I am 69-years-old. I’ve just gotten out of Huguley Hospital after a 13-day stay. It was my sixth time in the hospital in four years, all of the stays due to issues that cropped up from my second job, which is as a guide and medicinal plant collector in the Peruvian Amazon jungle. Those recent stays include time for dealing with a flesh eating virus that took three hospital stays, an exploded intestine that took three operations, and just last month, sepsis when my kidneys failed, my bladder collapsed, my legs reinfected, my heart went into severe arrythmia, and a host of less life-threatening problems.
   It is just the way things are for me and I have not changed over the last 35 years and probably won’t. I love the Amazon jungle, even though it will finally get me. I live with that.
   What I did not expect to live with was coronavirus. I am the perfect age, and currently dealing with several severe conditions, that make me the perfect candidate for this virus. Should I get it, I don’t know if I will survive. It would be awful to die of COVID after I’ve survived the jungle, but the reality is there to deal with daily. On the other hand, I can only run so much.
   I clean my hands. I wash canned and packaged goods before I use them. I go to the store with a friend daily but stay in the car and listen to music while he or my daughter fill my shopping list for dinner. And I make spectacular dinners daily – the only job I’m permitted to do. Well, that and cleaning the kitchen.
   But my friend Devon and my daughter Madeleina are still in touch with people in the supermarket. Madeleina’s friends Adrian, a fast-food delivery guy, and Patrick, who works at Target, still come over. My friend Matthew H, with whom I am writing a musical, is in touch with people but over at the house several times a week. We wash, we clean, but we’re not perfect. My younger son Marco comes over to hug me and eat dinner a couple of times a week. And then I have doctor’s appointments two or three times a week, and a home-nurse and physical therapist here several times a week.
   You get the picture, right? I try, but life goes on, even if mostly in quarantine. You avoid what you can, but you don’t roll up and sit in a fetal position. At least I don’t.
   What I miss most are the other members of my family. My ex-wife, generally over for coffee most mornings, is afraid to come and expose me to infection. Her two new daughters have not been here since I’ve been out of the hospital. My oldest son, Italo, and his wife Sarah, along with my two grandkids, Taylor Rain and Teigan Grey, have not been here either since I left the hospital a couple of weeks ago. I am used to seeing them a lot and miss them enormously. Sarah called and asked for a couple of dozen eggs from our coop –- Including half-a-dozen fresh organic duck eggs – and I have to leave them on the front porch for her to pick them up tonight.
    I am not looking for sympathy here. Things are what they are. A lot of people are in much rougher spots than I am. Meals on Wheels was killed a couple of years ago. ow How will those folks get good food now, and how will they stave off the virus without it? Where will people living on the street eat if they can’t dumpster dive because the restaurants are closed and the dumpsters are empty? What will people like me, of the right age and sick, do for food if they have not friends to buy it for them. Will they risk it and shop for themselves?
   This is a huge issue, everyone. I hope you all make it through.

Sunday, March 15, 2020

Back From the Jungle, Sick Again

WELL, it's been more than a month since I am home from Peru, where Devon and I treated two fantastic groups to deep jungle work in the Amazon, both in getting acquainted with the dangers of that place and the fantastic medicines it offers as well. Both gropups melded wonderfully. Everything was perfect. EXCEPT>>>>> that I stopped being able to walk or stand on my own, which as not just strange but terrifying.
Things got bad enough that Devon insisted I come home several days early from the trip--days that I was sup[posed to be using to find a boat for my next big expedition--and I was in bad enough shape that I let him lead the way.
If he was not traveling with me I do not believe they would have let me on the plane. I did not realize how ill I was.
I got home on a Friday afternoon and was in the hospital on Saturday morning, one step above regular hospital and one step below ICU. Turns out my kidneys had failed, mu bladder had collapsed, I was holding several gallons of water in my legs and torso and bladder that couldnot pass becuse my prostte had sudenly enlarged horribly. I had a majpor bleeding ulcer and needed four pints of blood, and then there was the infection in my legs.
Oy vey, this was not great. 14 days in the hospital and they set me free with a catheter tied to my privates and my leg to allow me to drain my urine. 10 medicines that have me terrified to use sapo right now because I don't know what the interactions will be. I am still laughing as best as I can. I'm cooking up a storm. I'm getting better. I do not like having to put a 12 inch catheter into my private parts every five hours--that is a serious invasion and it hurts, as well.
Oh, and I got fired from y job at thenewspper--Im too sick these days--and some land I OWN IN Peru was invaded by dozens of people who started butting my pristine forest to build houses.
All in all a tough month. I wonder why I keep getting tested. WHAT'S THE POINT? SEEMS Ive been tested for years now. Do I ever get a freaking diplomaq? I don't think so.
And I know that millions of people every day have it way worse than me. I wish I could alleviate their pain and eliminate their suffering. I would do anything if I could do that. Unfortunately, I'm just this guy in this pretty broken body with no superpowers to heal people.
For all of you, I hope you are strong and share your strength. Hug someone you love and make sure they know you love them.

Sunday, December 29, 2019

New Radio Show interview

Good afternoon. I did a radio show with Dr. Joe out of McGill University in Canada -- the Harvard of Canada -- and think it came out okay. If anyone wants to check it out, here it is:
https://www.iheartradio.ca/cjad/shows/the-dr-joe-show-1.1761500

Thanks. And everyone: Please have a safe and wonderful Happy New Year! I hope it is bright and full of magic for you all!
PG

Monday, December 16, 2019

More food Stuff!!!!!

So I was in the kitchen doing a little clean up. I had a radio show and then a phone call I had to make, so my daughter and Devon went to the supermarket for me today. Naturally, once they were gone I remembered I hadn't told them to pick up any food for Boots the Wonderdog, so I had to go searching in the fridge to see what we had left over.
I was sort of surprised at what was there, none of it more than a few days old and all still good.
There was some left over 4-cheese mac and cheese with spinach, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and scallions, plus an extra bowl of the cheese sauce that I'll probably pass off as dip if there are any unexpected guests tonight.
Then there was Uncle Clem's chicken -- a chicken and broccoli dish in a rich mushroom sauce topped with mozzarella and baked; a nice bowl of thin spaghetti with a shrimp and clam sauce; two pieces of lime chicken; a good sized pot of chicken cacciatore with lots of baby bella mushrooms and red and yellow peppers; and then half of last night's grill: marinated chicken, sausage, and veggies, that was served with corn on the cob.
I guess Boots is gonna eat well tonight even though I forgot to tell the kids to pick up livers and hearts.
And I guess we've been eating well this week.
I hope you are all eating well every day.

Wednesday, December 11, 2019

Toast and Jam

Okay, so a friend and co-conspirator at the Fort Worth Weekly, the paper I write for here in Fort Worth, has a weekly show called Toast and Jam. Jeff Prince has done about 100 of them and I never checked it out. Now that I have I have to tell you it is fantastic, brilliant, hilarious. Go to fwweekly.com and on the home page you will see a couple of the 5 minute bits on the right hand side of the page.
Now he asked me to be his guest last week. One of the things done on the show is that after a short intro/interview, the guest makes a toast, and then the guest jams with Jeff. He said he wanted to sing a jungle song and I suggested I'd write new lyrics to Jingle Bells called Jungle Bells but he nixed that. So I said "Why not do 'Welcome to the Jungle?'" Well, he jumped on that and forced me to sing it. In public. And made me promise to put it up here. So I'm doing that. Axl Rose is either gonna kill himself because I do it so well he's embarrassed that he ever did it, or he's gonna kill me for wreaking his best song. Anyway, here goes.
https://www.fwweekly.com/2019/12/11/toast-jam-with-peter-gorman/



Sunday, December 08, 2019

Sapo/Kambo Letter to a Writer

A writer in Montreal published a story about frog sweat medicine that was fairly critical of the medicine's actual value to the humans who utilize it. I responded with this:

 
Joe: Hello, this is Peter Gorman, a journalist, and the person who brought the frog sweat medicine out of the jungle and into the Western World in 1986. One of the people who got my earliest reports on its use was Dr. Vittorio Erspamer of the FIDIA Institute at the University of Rome. He had been studying peptides in amphibians, including the Phyllomedusa bicolor, for years, and was thrilled that he finally had a report of someone who had personally experienced the frog's secretions in the human body, as there had been no previous reports of that.
   Erspamer went through my early paper describing what I claimed occurred to me while under the influence of the frog -- 99 percent of it physical -- then used some of the actual material I sent him to study whether what I was claiming could be explained by the peptides found in the frog secretion. He published his findings in Toxicon, a peer reviewed journal that can be found on-line (or I can send you a link). His early work discovered seven bio-active peptides in the material that easily explained all of the physical symptoms. There were two opiods, a vasodilator, sauvagine, a bradkinen that could jump the blood brain barrier, and others.
   The only thing he could not explain was my sensation of animals moving through me, which he chalked up to my having used a Theobroma cacao/wild black tobacco snuff just prior to the frog sweat.
   The indigenous who introduced me to the medicine were the Matsés/Mayoruna indigenous who live on the Rio Galvez, near the Brazilian/Peruvian border. They do not drink any water prior to the medicine use. They rarely vomit during sessions and never appeared to have any protocol regarding the medicine in terms of diet. They simply used the medicine when their arrows were missing targets, when they needed to take long hikes (sometimes days), got the grippe, among other reasons. I continue to work with a few Matsés and have for more than three decades, and still see no protocol.
    When the same medicine was later discovered to be used by nearby indigenous groups in Brazil, their methodology was claimed to include drinking copious amounts of water to induce vomiting. Gringos have since added layers of "spirituality" to the medicine's use because, well, that's what Westerner's do.
   I am belaboring things and I'm sorry. I just want to stress that there is certainly science behind why this medicine is being utilized by many people. My own account of that first use of the medicine -- including a lot of Erspamer's Toxicon material -- was published in Omni Magazine in the early 1990s with the heading Making Magic.
   Sorry to go on. If you wanted to do a follow up to this piece, I'd make myself available.
Thank you,
Peter Gorman
817-517-6620

Monday, November 25, 2019

Food in the Fridge

So I have someone coming tomorrow to start the 10 day sapo (frog sweat) medicine course I give occasionally--which means when someone wants it. When they come I have to clean the house. And in this case the person is paying a little extra for room and board here for the 10 days. So I was thinking about food and looked in the fridge and asked Devon what the hell was in the four bowls in there and could we get rid of it to make space for juices, and so forth.
Devon said: I think there is some fajita stew that you just made a couple of days ago, and a piece of lime chicken that was fantastic. There is also a piece of chicken parmesan you just made, and a bowl of Spanish red rice with garlic, chopped meat and veggies. Plus spaghetti bolognese.
I told him to hold the phone and I'd get back to him but not to throw away any of that. It sounded like an exquisitely tasty tasting menu. The hell with the new guy. We're eating this!!!!

Tuesday, November 05, 2019

Crazy Life!!!!

Okay, so two or three or ten things are going on in my head. On the front page, I was due to talk in Austin today, at a meet and greet for an hour, and then to tell a story or two prior to a film that includes me, More Joy, Less Pain, is being shown. So last night I had a dream that my Saturday Night car, a 1999 Crown Vic with a 4.6 liter engine that purrs like a cat, overheated. And today, after we bought sandwiches — the we is Devon and I — water, a tank of gas, and whatever else we needed for the 380 mile round trip, we're on the road for less than 20 miles when the car actually started to overheat. I mean it was redlining and I had to stop, wait for it to cook, then discovered that the antifreeze was about empty. Leak? Who knows. Prescient dream? Absolutely, since that's never happened in the two years I've owned that car. Actually, I trust the spirits and it was probably their way of keeping me out of an approaching accident.
In any event, we added the water we bought and hobbled a few miles to a gas station, allowed the car to cool again, then added antifreeze. By that time we would have been at least an hour late and missed the entire meet and greet, but I would have been a nervous wreak the whole time since I don't know what caused the loss of fluid.
I had to turn around and return home. I feel lousy about that. I'll do a projected skype at the place where the film is being shown to apologize and tell a story or two.
But now that I am home, I'm starving. I don't want to cook, don't want to eat the sandwiches we bought for the road trip. So I looked in the fridge.
There was a whole plate of Deviled Eggs I'd made last night that I'd completely forgotten about. Wow! I am so insanely trying to write/cook the recipes for the Peter Gorman Hell of a Day in the Kitchen cookbook that I am sleep-making freaking food!
Once I saw them I remembered making them, but in the flurry of things I was making last night — none of which I ate, I stuck to ice cream — I just forgot that I'd made them.
So I am officially out of my mind. I get it. I'm sure you all see it too.
Yikes!
Now I got to go tell stories to a small group of movie goers that hate me for not being there in person. How can I explain? I will apologize, of course, and point to my hair looking nice, to my clean-shaven face, to my freshly washed shirt. They will still hate me.
Ah well, if you don't get into the fray you will never even have a chance of winning, eh?
Still, yikes!!!!!

Friday, November 01, 2019

Short and Sweet

Try to be a good and generous person. Try to turn selfish ideas into selfless ideas, cowardice into courage, fear to fearlessness. Take care of as many as you can without suffocating yourself with their woes and misery. Have a wonderful life.

Tuesday, October 29, 2019

On People Training to give Frog Medicine

Someone asked me about training to give Frog Sweat, Kambo or Sapo, as a White Person, Versus being an Indigenous Person. This is what I wrote:
Dear X: I answered that at the very top of this thread, a few weeks ago. But here it is again, the answer to the original question in full: To the OP: I do not have any direct experience with IAKP, but have met some of their practitioners and they appear well trained. I know that when I occasionally train people -- and I don't know where I get the right to do that other than wanting people to use the medicine in a careful and positive fashion -- it is not at all similar to someone being brought up in an indigenous culture that depends on the medicine for hunting, for eliminating the grippe, and so forth. Those kids are around the medicine from birth, just like they are around the jungle from birth and so are at home with it without any need for formal training. But then you take a kid from Whitestone, Queens, New York, like me and put me in the jungle and I need lots of training to be able to survive well out there. I think the same applies to sapo/kambo training. Yes, a person can just use it once or twice and then give it to other people, but what happens when something goes wrong? What happens when you allow a guest to walk, unattended, to a bathroom and they black out and hit their head on a counter top? Or wind up with their head in a bad position and start to vomit and then choke and panic? What do you do when someone absolutely freaks out on taking the medicine? There are so many things to learn to use the medicine in our cultures that it is impossible to compare the learning to indigenous culture learning. I have guests who need two or three hours to come together again after a session, and other guests who are good to go 20 minutes after initial application. How do you judge when to give them back their car keys and let them drive off? I am not a believer in shrouding the medicine in a whole lot of mysticism and pomp theatrics, but I do sing people into the first four or five minutes of the experience to help them go into it gently -- as you all know it's darned abrupt!!! So while I do not know the IAKP directly, I think that training people to the things to be aware of prior to serving others, is probably a good thing. And I do not know what they charge, but if they are giving you 10 days or two weeks' attention, well, someone has to get paid to do that. That is a lot of work.

6

Thursday, October 17, 2019

The Big Boat Ride

The other day I posted regarding my last two Amazon Jungle Jaunts, where I take people out to the deep jungle and we do some walking in high jungle while learning about local medicines, some swamp walking with ancient trees, some jungle medicines that include (for those who want them, never pushed on anyone) Ayahuasca, Amazonian magic mushrooms, and the indigenous Matses medicines, Sapo (aka Kambo), and Nü-Nü, a snuff. We also collect the frog with some Matses friends of mine, bathe in a beautiful tributary of the Amazon, eat ridiculously good and healthy food, laugh up a storm, learn a lot about life on the Amazon. Those dates are Jan 18-27, and Feb 1-10.
BUTTTTTT!!!!!! I didn't explain why they will be the last trips. Here's why: With the rate the jungle is trying to kick me out — whether it's dengue, septic spider bites, poisonous snake bites, flesh eating bacteria — coupled with my age, a measly 68, I only have a limited amount of trips left in me. Maybe 10, maybe 12, I don't know.
What I do know is that I have some legitimate exploration left to do, and that can't be done if I'm entertaining guests. I love guests, but this Spring, 2020, I'm gonna try to raise about $25 grand to find, rent, rebuild to my specifications, outfit a boat to take from Iquitos down to Leticia, and then up the Javari river, and into the Alto Javari and the Galvez rivers.
I'll have 7 crew beside myself, and I'm planning on the trip running about 42 days from setting off from Iquitos to return. Now this is a trip I've done twice, though they were slightly shorter trips at 29 and 30 days, so my ambition is up this time. And I've never gotten bored while piloting my own boat in the Amazon.
On this trip, 25 years since the last, i want to record for the record the changes that have occurred on the Javari since I last ran it. I want to return to the villages I collected medicinal plants from -- for a pharmaceutical house -- to see if the sons and daughters of the headmen from whom I collected plants are still working that trade. I want to revisit some old friends and make some new ones.
I'll be honest: I know this is a selfish expedition. But I also think it's valuable as very few rivers in the Amazon have a record that stretches 26 years. How much development has occurred? How much larger are the military outposts and the villages around them? How far have the indigenous villages moved and have any disappeared altogether?
I'm going to need a lot of money for this, and i don't want anyone giving up their lunch money or money they were going to send to the local food bank sending that money to me. I'm going to need angels, four or five or 10 who have capital and want to be part of something special. Who want to be there when it's time for the boat painting party in Iquitos, or spend the first 4 or 5 nights with my crew on the first leg of the journey to Leticia (where we'll drop you off and send you back to Iquitos with one of my team). There will be an accounting of every damned penny spent and people can hold me to that.
Anyway, I hope I can pull this off and that it will be the first of several genuine explorations that I will do before the jungle gets me for good, or I just get too old to do the work.
I just wanted to share that. Thanks. Peter G

Friday, October 11, 2019

LAST JUNGLE TRIPS COMING UP

What follows is absolute self-promotion, so proceed at your own risk. I'm going to be taking two more small groups into the deep Peruvian Amazon. The dates are Saturday, Jan 18 through the morning of Monday, Jan 27, and then Saturday, Feb 1 through the morning of Monday, Feb 10. The trips run $2200 US per person and cover everything but airfare and walking around money.
I've been doing these trips for 21 years and love introducing people the the Northwest Amazon, her rivers, her peoples, and her medicines. But I'm coming to the end of the line on them and it's nearly time to turn them over to my friend Devon, who has been apprenticing with me for several years. So these two will, in all likelihood, be my last.
So if you have dreamed of spending a night on a flat-bottomed riverboat heading up the Amazon beneath an Amazon sky, this is the time to join. If you have dreamed of being offered Amazonian magic shrooms, or doing the indigenous Matses medicines Sapo (aka kambo) and nu-nu with a Matses headman — as well as collecting those medicines with the same headman — then now is the time to join. If you would like to utilize ayahuasca in the same setting as I have been drinking it for 35 years with the nephew of my old teacher Julio, then now is the time to join.
This is not a trip to a luxury lodge. This is swamp walking, high jungle medicine walking, nighttime trips in dugout canoes, bathing in a beautiful tributary of the Amazon, getting plenty of dirt under your fingernails, and doing all that while having a rollicking good time.
If any of this piques your interest, you can message me or email me at peterg9 at yahoo.com and I can answer your questions.
Trips are limited to a maximum of 12 guests, and my crew will always outnumber my guests to ensure a safe trip.
The trip is not physically difficult, but it is the real deal.
Thanks for listening.

Wednesday, October 09, 2019

Full Day, Doing Nothing

Full day, doing nothing. Today was a surprisingly full day, though it seemed like I didn't to anything at all.
Chepa, my ex, came by at 8 AM for coffee and regaled me and Devon with stories while I flirted with her. She left at 9 and I rewrote a story for Fort Worth Weekly that was going to press tonight.
Then a guest who was here at the house needed sapo, the indigenous frog sweat medicine, which always takes a lot out of me, and the Matses snuff, nu-nu as a follow up medicine.
I was pooped after serving the medicines.
Then it was time to go to the store to get food for dinner, came home, and the person who was staying here for three days for medicine had a friend show up. He was cool, but stayed for three hours, so there was some entertainment in the way of stories to provide. I did.
At the same time I was entertaining the new friend, I had to wash clothes for a speaking engagement at a movie theater showing a film about my work in the Amazon tonight in Fort Worth. So I had to figure out what I was going to speak about.
Then Devon and I went to the theater, I spoke in a meet-and-greet for an hour, then spoke to the audience for 15-20 minutes without notes, then came home.
I am tired. It's only 9:30, but I am tired.
Didn't do nothin' but did a lot. I hope I helped a few people along the way.

Sunday, September 29, 2019

Someone I know Defended Trump...

Someone I know posted on a forum that if the Democrats keep messing around with Trump he might switch his allegiance from them to Trump in 2020. That's such horse shit that I had to respond. Here is my response, though it's way more abbreviated than I would have liked.
 
The democrats have passed more than 100 bills that are common sense things that McConnell is sitting on. They are working their tails off trying to put together legislation that would be a no-brainer for the Senate if Mr. M would let them get a hearing. So they are not causing any gridlock. That is all on McConnell. Thus far President Trump has passed a tax cut for the wealthy and corporations, locked kids up, separated families, raised the rates of the incarceration of those kids to over $700 per night per child while accepting that there is not enough money for toothbrushes for them out of that $700. He has lied 10 times a day, spends several hours a day by his own admission watching Fox News, then spends the night tweeting about what Fox News said that day. The action against President Trump should have come with emoluments, the Mueller Report, his publicly asking for election help from Putin, his roll back of dozens of environmental protections, his putting utterly unqualified people in cabinet positions, having his family be his closest advisors, or even putting tariffs on goods from China which exclude his own products and the products made by his daughter there. That's a very partial list of reasonably impeachable offenses. To that add the Kashogi murder that he ignored, secret meetings with Putin wherein he takes the translators notes so that there is no record of the conversations, giving classified info to Russia's foreign minister during a visit in the White House (that info released by Russia subsequent to the meeting because Trump did not allow any US people to stay in the room)..... Well, you get the picture. He's never produced a vision of policy, never come up with anything concrete. If he did, I'm sure the Dems would have worked with him while still going after his high crimes and misdemeanors.

Saturday, September 21, 2019

Short Exerpt from one of my books

Someone on Facebook exerpted and posted this from my book, Ayahuasca in My Blood. It's not bad.

"I said I was tired of people who visit one curandero, listen to what he or she says and repeat it as if it is true. That is how bullshit gets spread around."
"So what is irking me are people who get part of a story and repeat it as rote, rather than stepping back and trying to see how that story fits into the larger world picture."
"How many people have I met who have spent a month in Peru and told me they were called to open an ayahuasca center? Ten? Twenty-five? One is too many. Get your ass down there. Learn. Spend some years, two or three or something more than a month or two before you think you know how to serve people medicine."
"Want to write that book? Talk to three or five or fifty ayahuasqueros who have 1000 years among them serving the medicine and ask them what the spirits look like: You will probably wind up with a mosaic with a couple of archetypes rather than a list of animal totems that is really meaningless."
"And me? I do not know anything, except what I have seen and learned but I know that 1) that is a very small window on a very large universe, and 2) my perceptions are colored by my life experience and should never be taken by anyone for reality, just my perceptions of what occurred."
"And I guess I am just old enough to be tired of people who are spreading falsehoods in the name of truth. Even if they think it is the truth, it is just their truth, or the truth of their curandero/curandera, not some measurable truth. I think, and I am sorry I have been rude in getting here but have also enjoyed it, that is important to remember."

Monday, September 16, 2019

RIP Ric Ocasic

Ric Ocasic, leader of the Cars, died last night. That's sad, because for people like me he's still part of the New Wave of music of the 1970s and early 1980s. So I guess both he and I are old. RIP Mr. Cars. You brought a lot of joy to this world, so you did your share and more. Thank you. I did not know you. But I did meet you. 
My sister Pat, the woman who designed the MTV logo--with help from Frank Olinsky--designed a lot of albums, from Duran Duran to Billy Idol, to the Cars Greatest Hits. For the last one, Pat, who had been jealous of my sister Peg's legs her whole life, used Peg to sit on a car in sexy red high heels and photographed her from the knee down. What people don't know is that Peg was 40 at the time the photo--album cover--was taken. 
 It was my sister Pat's way of dealing with her lifelong jealousy of her younger sister (by two years). 
I ran into the Cars and a lot of others when Pat hired me to cater a party for the Gorman-Olinsky Manhattan Design company. I didn't have much money for it, so I made great food, but decided to serve it in small plastic pails, so that when the guests came in, everyone from Sting to the Cars to, I think, the B-52s, and The Talking Heads, they had to go garbage pails picking for the food. 
It turned out to be a wonderful success, and I went on to use the same idea for things like the Yul Brynner redo of The King and I Broadway opening. Brynner wasn't thrilled until he got the idea that the cast was dumpster diving for food. 
RIP Ric: I hope you have a fast trip to the next stage.

Saturday, September 14, 2019

Sometimes the Kitchen Calls Me

Hell of a day in the kitchen. My friend Devon, who is currently living here -- I wrote about him in glowing terms a few days ago becuse he's like one of my sons -- went away for a couple of days yesterday. My daughter Madeleina came home from university but had to return there today for somthing, so her live in boyfriend, Adrian, didn't come. Madelaina and I had a great meal of salmon with sliced red peppers, garlic, green onions, ginger, and Sesame oil on a bed of fresh spinach, watched a movie — something with Matt Dillon with a mustache that was REALLY wordy and I finally gave up — and then I went to bed.
Today, with Devon gone and Madeleina going to be gone for a few hours, I wrote a couple of recipes in the cook book I'm trying to get done, sang for everyone, stretched my back, wrote a blog piece or two, looked for a story for my newspaper, the Fort Worth Weekly, that I want to write, and then thought that I really felt like cooking.
What I wanted to cook was Sauce Espagnole, the basis for every damned French beef sauce, stew, soup, and anything else. It's a beef stock reduction done twice and it takes a lot of veggies, work, patience.
I thought I'd make that while I was cooking my fajita stew for dinner. that requires yellow jasmine rice. And then Boots the wonder dog's food, chicken livers, meat trimmings and a chicken leg had to be cooked as well. And I only have two working burners on my stove. So it was gonna be a day.
For the Espgnole, I bought about 10 pounds of beef soup bones with lots of marrow. I put those in the oven at 350 for two hours. Took them out, hammered them to loosten the marrow, then threw them in a stock pot with one head of organic celery, two organic sweet onions, 20 teeth of rough cut fresh garlic, five organic carrots, slice, and olive oil.
When all was brown, I added 6 liters of water, sea salt and cracked black pepper, brought it to a boil, then reduced to simmering.
While that was cooking, I trimmed the flank steak for the fajitas, a painstaking task, then marinated them in garlic, olive oil, fajita seasoning, black pepper, Peruvian achiote for color and taste, and white vinegar.
When the beef stock was done — reduced to 2 quarts after 3 hours — I strained it. Then I put 20 more fresh garlic teeth, two more onions, four more organic carrots, another head of celery, a half pound of Baby Bella mushrooms, a half-pound of very good ham, chopped, a full brace of parsely, chopped, four fresh beefsteak tomatoes and 6 ounces of the best tomato paste I can buy into the stock pot. I added the stock I'd made after the veggies browned, then added four quarts of organic grass fed beef stock (I was cheating a little, okay?????), brought it to a boil, then reduced to simmer. It's been on for three hours and probably has five more hours to go to reduce to one pint, which is what I am after.
While that was cooking, I cut the marinated flank steak into 1/4 inch slices and put them into a pot with their own marinade, plus two more heads of garlic. Thirty minutes Iater I added two onions slices into half-circles, achiote and white vinegar. Let that cook for half an hour, then put it on the back burner and started the yellow jasmine rice.
When the rice was cooking I stirred everything, washed all the used pots and strainers, got the chicken/duck food ready, fed the outside birds hummingbirds.
When the rice was nearly done I put it on one of the non-working burners and started the dog food: A chicken leg, beef trimmings and a pound of chicken livers.
When Madeleina comes home soon, I'll put the fajita mat back on the fire, add the red, orange, yellow, green peppers, the scallions, veggie stock, and later, a bunch of chopped cilantro. Vinegar to taste.
Also mde smoothies, a peruvian juice drink. I'm freaking tired. Feel like I was back in a Manhattan restaurant kitchen. Dang. But I still feel good.
I hope you all eat well tonight. Nice way, if slightly frantic, to spend a day now and then. Just you and veggies.

Small Bushmaster Bite

Someone asked about me being bitten by a bushmaster snake. It was just a baby. Still dangerous. Here's what I wrote:
Dear X: It was nothing. When I had my bar in Iquitos, Peru, people would bring in all sorts of animals and we'd buy them in exchange for a meal, then give them to a friend who would take them out into deep, non-inhabited rivers and set them free in their own environments every week or so. One time this guy came in with a small, two-foot long baby water snake he called it. It sure looked like a baby shushupe — bushmaster — to me, but I couldn't tell because he had it in a bag of water in a pail. So I took it out — I was pretty good at handling snakes, having worked with Rom Whitaker in India and watching him do it — it exposed it's fangs and I told him never to pull that nonsense on me again. Water snakes are often harmless, this was a baby monster. I put it back in the bag but he fumbled tying the bag off and the petrified snaked jumped out of the bag and onto the bar. It got past me and I realized that my baby daughter, Madeleina, was about 10 feet to my right, so I quick stepped and grabbed it before it could fall off the bar and kill her. Unfortunately, I missed the perfect catch just by the head by just half an inch, enough for it to snap into my right forefinger. I snapped it off quickly and killed it where it fell with my heel, but I knew I had a wet bite. My wife, Chepa, was called and rushed to the bar and took me to the Ana Stahl Clinic where my friend Jeremy Lenigan was volunteering. He shot me up with adrenalin, cleaned the wound, drew blood, and watched over me for hours. The venom was not injected in sufficient amounts to kill me — the bushmaster, even juveniles, can be deadly — but did get me sick for a few days. And I lost the ability to bend that forefinger for a few years. I almost have it back now, 19 years after the bite.

If I Take Jungle Medicines, Why Do I Get Sick

Sickness has come up in conversation
Several times in the last year, people have asked why, if I've done all this Amazon medicine, have I gotten so sick. They question the bite by the bushmaster, the septic spider bite that opened sores all over my arms and legs; they ask about my hemorrhagic dengue fever, my exploded intestines, my two serious bouts with flesh eating bacteria.
The crux of the questions seems to be: "If you do all these Amazon medicines, why do you get so sick? Maybe they don't work and you are just kidding yourself."
It is a legitimate question.
The answer is two-fold. One, if you play in the jungle as I have, every year for 35 years for a couple of months or more, walking from the Ucayali to the Galvez, or the Rio Midi from Tamishako, or from Herrera to Angamos via the long route, and then spend a month more on each of 20 trips in the jungle, you will expose yourself to some things you cannot imagine. Yellow fever is the only typical disease from the area that I have not had. Malaria, to me, is just like a bad freaking flu. Normal dengue is normal. We don't count that as serious. Bot fly infestations in my private parts and legs is to be expected when I rebuild a boat and take it out for 31 days on the Yavari, the border between Brazil and Peru, and tie up on trees overhanging the river.
My answer is this: If I was not using the Amazon medicines in the jungle and here at home — I did sapo, frog sweat, also called kambo in Brazil twice in the last two days, for instance — I think any of those issues would have killed me. They are all mortal infirmities. The medicines have kept me alive and ticking. No, the jungle medicines did not ward off the diseases and bacteria and animal bites, but they allowed my body to cope with them without succumbing. That is the medicine value.

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

About a Friend

I am gonna say this: I like company that helps. My friend Devon Wright is staying with me in Joshua, Texas, now, and it's good to have him. I like the conversation, the company, the whole deal. What makes it easy for me, someone who lived alone for a long time, both before and after my marriage, or lived with kids as the solo dad most of the time, is that he simply pitches in. I got the cat food from the back room, both wet and dry, and he took it out. I was working on a story today and Devon went to the store to buy the stuff needed. I provided the stuff for the chickens, he cut the watermelon, cleaned the spinach, cut the hard crust off the bread -- and tossed the crust to the animals out back -- and I got dinner ready. Without a word of who should do what, birds, chickens, ducks, cats, and Boots, the wonder dog, got fed. Our dinner, a simple one, is en route. Dishes are cleaned. Kitchen swept. Appropriate drugs taken -- just kidding -- I mean the Peruvian indigenous Matses snuff, Nü-nü and nobody is stressed. That's teamwork, and that's a good thing in my book.
What are we having? (Vegans, close your eyes!) Paper thin roast beef on fresh country white bread with horseradish mayo, spiced Mediterranean cheddar, and tomato. Side of fresh organic cucumber with fresh lime juice.
Cool, right? I love living alone, but I'm getting to the point where I really love good company.

Wednesday, August 28, 2019

Guests coming

My friend, Al Giordano, has been posting wonderful food that he has been making. As a chef, I pay attention. He posted the ingredients to a sandwich that were so complicated today that I had to respond to him. This is what I wrote:
You make me out to be a pauper. I have 13 guests coming in for three days this weekend and all I got is: Friday afternoon: Hummus, meats, good cheeses, jungle guacamole, fruit, tomatoes with fresh basil, garlic, and mozzarella. For dinner stuffed shells with ricotta, mozzarella, asiago cheese, garden basil, spinach, shallots, eggs from my chickens, and green onions, with homemade tomato sauce, and mozzarella, served with chicken parmesan, spaghetti squash and a vegetable mix with garlic bread. Sat morning: Pancakes with fresh picked blueberries and Canadian maple syrup, double cut bacon, home fried potatoes, NYC bagels with Philadelphia Cream Cheese, three cheese bread and butter, baked, and fruit. Sunday: Baked eggs with ham and swiss and veggies, papas Huancaina from peru, papaya with lime. Sunday night: Barbeque of marinated chicken thighs, shrimp, beef sausage, grilled asparagus, broccoli, cauliflower, scallions. With potato and egg salad, fusilli salad with red peppers, balsamic vinegar, and shallots, three beans with jowel bacon, garlic, and onions. Your cooking is way, way more complex for the taste buds than mine. So am jealous, all the way.

Tuesday, August 27, 2019

Curanderos falling off the path

Someone asked why a curandero with a good reputation might suddenly be acting very selfishly. This is how I responded:
There are several things at work here that I think are very important to remember. The first is to remember that the curandero is human. Knowing plants, having plant and other spirit allies does not change that. They get tempted by the same things that tempt the rest of us, and sometimes fall off the path because of that. Secondly: there is such a call for curanderos at the 100 plus centers around Iquitos alone — never mind the hundreds of other centers in Peru, Colombia, the USA, Europe, Central America, etc, who are serving ayahuasca, that some people serving have never even done ayahuasca. I know several camps around Iquitos where people I knew years ago are now serving and have never had the medicine, never seen a ceremony before stepping in as a curandero. Third, and this one is perhaps the most important, is that many curanderos work with the four magics (and there may be many more, but I will keep to the four that Julio LLerena, my teacher, and later my friend, used). Red magic is the magic of blood. It is the healing magic of the human and animal body. Green Magic, is the magic of nature. It is the magic that binds all of us together: The piss you take today will evaporate and be carried as rain to feed my children as spring water tomorrow. The piss I take, the spit I spit, will be the water that feeds your garden. White magic is the spark of life, the illuminating force of the universe, from the tiniest sub-atomic particle to the brightness of the stars. Black Magic is the molten, magnetic core of everything, the force that keeps things from spinning off helter-skelter, from the smallest sub-atomic particles to the earth, the sun, the entire universe. Now many real curanderos will wind up working with those magics and those magics will become allies. They will learn to heal with red magic, often utilizing the green magic of the plants and roots. They will bring light to darkness to illuminate problems, to expose fears, and so forth. They will utilize black magic to bring things together, to transform fear into fearlessness, cowardice into courage. BUTT there is an issue with black magic: It's magnetic force is so strong that in working with it, some of that magnetism will get on your fingers. You will be able to call things to you that you want. You will have that magnetic power to some extent. But the rule with black magic is that you may never call anything to yourself for selfish purposes. You can't choose to win a lottery ticket, you can't choose to get a girl or boy with that power. If you do, you lose all your allies and genios. But it is difficult to resist that temptation, and many good curanderos eventually fall under it's spell, and in so doing, fall off the path. So someone might be fantastic and loving and giving one day, and the next week they are out for themselves. It is a very difficult temptation to resist. And once you've fallen off the path, it is a very long and trying time to get back on it. I think that is why a lot of curanderos who work hard for years and decades, go through periods where they are not curanderos at all, but essentially leeches.