The Sleek Tigress

Can * nois * seur ( kan' us sur' ), n. one competent to render critical judgement on the qualities and merits of cannabis.

Heads Up: You may have noticed that both Medithrive and Hope Net have stepped up their marketing. Medithrive has a strong website and recently has been placing prominent ( page 4 ) full-color ads in The SF Chronicle. Hope Net is posting large ads on the backs of MUNI buses and has also set up a nifty website. A big step in normalization.

Always an enjoyable stop on my weekly rounds, is Re-Leaf at 1284 Mission Street @ 9th--the main reason being their stock of superior herb at moderate prices, as well as their relaxed, down-home atmosphere. Often they come up with singular strains. and they are currently holding one of their most singular. It definitely qualifies for strain of the season. Bearing the unlikely name Kettenpom Kush, this dense Sativa expands the brain's APPs, infusing the synapses with escalating energy. Its long, dynamic arc could be called Stairway to Heaven because it keeps soaring into the great beyond. $60 an eighth might seem pricey, but a little goes a long way up.

The Sleek Tigress--Beirut '65

Before the wars came, they called Beirut 'The Paris of the Middle East'. Banks, insurance companies, boulevards jammed with stalled Mercedes, a seaside esplanade lined with luxury hotels including the St. George, which had a yacht basin. After a brief farewell with Betsy at the dock i cabbed it to the bus station which was on the other side of town. Over there it was the same low rent fourth-world confusion common to public transport in the Middle East. Of course the color and noise seemed exotic to me. I found the right bus by repeating my destination, and watched dubiously as the driver heaved my bag atop the vehicle, along with caged chickens, boxes, crates and suitcases bound with rope. It was crowded but i found a window seat, unwrapped my Moroccan majoun and settled back for a bumpy ride to Baalbek.
Once the bus was outside the city it began to climb the mountain, a corkscrew road that wound straight up. From time to time the bus would stop at roadside cafes, to pick up and let off passengers, the driver clambering atop to toss luggage to the ground. i would sip mint tea, which seemed to enhance the billowy enlightenment seeded by the majoun. From radios everywhere came the tinny strings of dramatic Arabian music. And the bus kept climbing, a good 40 mi up the big hill, overlooking steep, verdant valleys often viewed at a precarious angle. i was cool but watchful, having noted that about thirty percent of the cars i had seen in Beirut were being pushed. Maintenance did not appear to be a priority.


Three hours later we came to Baalbek at the edge of the lush hash fields of the Bekaa Valley. i was finally there, one of the holy sites of cannabis--and one of the wonders of archeology.

Baalbek itself was a tiny village consisting of a few cafes and rug merchants. It stood on one side of a very large grassy pitch perhaps the size of two football fields. Rising majestically on the other side were the famous Roman ruins of the temples of Bacchus, Jupiter and Venus. However the sites historic significance went back even further. It is said to have its origins under King Solomon ( who named it Heliopolis ) and was ruled by the Phoenicians who worshipped the god Baal (Assyrian Hadad). It was also ruled by the Ptolemaic Pharaohs of Egypt. Later, under Anthony and Cleopatra, the temples were restored, renovated and dedicated to Roman deities. It was--and still is-- located on an important trade route between Damascus and the Mediterranean Sea. Some notes from my diary:

"From Italy, to Greece, to Egypt, to Lebanon--as you go east you sense the change, then the change becomes apparent. First, the things that live: here everything is in full life--ants, children, lizards all doing their thing you understand with a fullness of expression...the bus goes up, up past the point where you can't see the sleek port town any longer, then around. always spiraling up, up, around...then bang a flash of the temple of Bacchus on a hillside and you're there. All this time Arab music, stops for sundry reasons, tattooed ladies, and wrestling (yes wrestling). The hotel right out of Capote via Huston..."
After checking in i took a walk. The town took about seven minutes to cover, but the ruins beckoned. i crossed the field and climbed onto the great stone platform that overlooks the valley. The platform itself is a wonder, flat granite blocks, forming an area the size of a football field. I checked out the temples but it was too much to take in right away. I was fascinated and exhilarated to be standing there. More entries from my diary.

"...you go along opening your lungs a bit and finding the rarefied Lebanese air rare indeed....and then you look up after a bit of that and understand it's sunset and lights have blinked on and the Arab music everywhere has been replaced in loudspeakers and echoes of the prayer calls. And the earth responds with colors from gold to purple to endless combinations... colors mixed in gaseous valences...giving them depth...the trunkless ruins..."

Now all i needed to do was find a legitimate hash connection.

Next: White Goddess

Recommended Viewing: Paths of Glory directed by Stanley Kubrick
written by Calder Willingham starring Kirk Douglas