Postcards from the Counterculture: A Fosco Lives! Special Report

Unless you live in a college town, you may not be familiar with yesterday's 4/20 holiday (it's "clever" because yesterday's date was 4/20). It's that day of the year when pot smokers come together at 4:20 PM to celebrate "cannabis culture" by smoking up--often in public. It is a particularly popular holiday at two major US public universities (as noted in this article in the NY Times): University of Colorado at Boulder and (wait for it) Fosco's own University of California, Santa Cruz (UCSC). In fact, the holiday has become so closely associated with UCSC that a picture of UCSC's 4/20 event is used to illustrate the 4/20 entry on Wikipedia. (And yes, the above picture is of UCSC's mascot, the Banana Slug, smoking pot.)

The event has always been unsanctioned by UCSC, of course. However, as the holiday has become larger and more public in recent years, the UCSC administration has become more concerned about the questionable PR. This year, UCSC sent an email to the parents of all first-year students asking them to discourage their sons or daughters from participating. As the email suggested (with keen insight into the mind of today's youth):

"I encourage you to talk with your student about his or her plans for 4/20. Ask direct questions about the choices they make and express your expectations regarding marijuana, alcohol or other drug use. Although students may not initiate discussion on this topic, your opinions and expectations can influence their behavior."

"Golly, Beaver, I sure hope you aren't planning to take the pot on April 20th. Remember that anyone who offers you drugs is not a true friend."

But that was just Prong ONE of UCSC's two-pronged attack on 4/20. Prong TWO was to essentially shut down the campus for the whole afternoon, in an attempt to prevent easy access to the Porter College Meadow (traditional home of the gathering). This meant shutting down the bus routes, closing the West Entrance to campus, and beefing up parking enforcement. Of course, there was added benefit of inconveniencing any non-pot-smokers who remained on campus: "Can't get home? Blame the potheads!"

Normally, Fosco would strenuously avoid an event like this, considering that he considers any group larger than twenty-five people to be an unpleasantly large crowd. And when that group is made up of pot-smoking hippies... well, let's just say that Fosco has aesthetic objections to "cannabis culture." However, this year found Fosco in class at Porter College until 4 PM on 4/20. Essentially, Fosco was a within an easy quarter-mile walk of the whole gathering: could his inner anthropologist resist a glimpse of the spectacle? Would a giant crowd of pot-smoking hippies be enough to convince Fosco to stay on campus for an extra half hour?

Yes, of course, I went to look. You would have too. And this is what I saw...

By 4 PM, the people walking toward Porter Meadow had become a steady line (see Monterey Bay in the background?).


It's kind of like watching pot-loving ants, no? And look at the smoke cloud.


Here's a view of the line looking back from the Meadow:


One thing I didn't mention yet: this was the hottest day we've had this year. It was 97 fucking degrees. (And yes, even with my canteen of water, I was regretting the quarter-mile walk by this point--anthropology is hard.) Of course, the heat did give the Santa Cruz Sentinel the opportunity to use the "twice-baked" pun in their coverage, so I suppose it was worth it.

One option for beating the heat was to smoke in the woods that surrounds the meadow:


Other heat-beating options I observed: umbrellas, parasols, shirtlessness, sweating profusely. These photos were taken around 4:05 or so--note the giant crowd and smoke cloud.



For the first time in the history of UCSC's 4/20 event, there were some party-crashers: local Christian nutballs showed up with signs to protest. Seriously!



Don't these guys have something better to do? Like picketing AIDS funerals? Or throwing blood on abortion doctors?

This guy was my favorite:


Who would have thought that God could hate so many things! Luckily, this guy has made a list for us. Can we go to a closeup? Yes?


Let's just take a moment and convert this sign into a list.

People Who Will Be Judged (Presumably Unfavorably) By God

• Sex Addicts (tough luck, David Duchovny)
  
• Baby Killers
  
• Witches
  
• Dikes [sic] on Bikes
  
• Pencil Neck Weak Kneed Gutless Men (hmmm...)
  
• So Called Christians
  
• Pot Smoking Little Devils (Bingo!)
  
• False Religions
  
• Lewd Women (well, duh!)
  
• Porno Freaks
  
• Homos
  
• [something I can't quite read]
  
• [another something I can't quite read]
  
• Sports Nuts (Seriously?)
  
• Perverts
  
• Racists
  
• Money Lovers
  
• Two Faced People (sorry, Harvey Dent)
  
• Rebellious Women
  
• All Non-Homemakers (wow, I bet these guys get lots of dates)
  
• Party Animals
  
• Drunkards
  
• Jesus Mockers
  
• And Catholics...
  

Whew. I don't know about you, but that's the kind of God I could really get into. Watch out, Sports Nuts.

Anyway... the golden moment, 4:20 PM PDT, finally arrived and the smoke got even thicker:






These pictures don't quite capture the moment adequately--for one thing, you can't hear all of the drums. Consequently, allow me to offer the brief video that I recorded (and uploaded to YouTube):



Sadly, I cannot make this experience available to you in "Smell-O-Vision" because, as my college roommate David noted, the whole thing "must have smelled unspeakably awful." I cannot disagree.

All in all, I managed to stave off incipient heat-stroke until about 4:30 when I gave up and walked back to my car at Porter. I wasn't the only one leaving:




Caption: "We'll always have these stupid memories."

Walking back, I passed the only official UCSC presence at the event:



And what did I learn? Well, for one thing, I thought there would actually be a more communal atmosphere at this thing. I had envisioned people passing joints and conversing. Instead, everyone just broke up into their own friend groups--and most of them weren't actually very nice about it. I had kinda been expecting to be offered some smoke (not that I would have indulged), but that didn't seem to be the vibe. I've been to much friendlier football tailgates. And I've had more pot offered to me at concerts.

For another thing, I wonder how many actual UCSC students were there. Walking down, I was in front of a group from Berkeley. In the Sentinel coverage, they interviewed students from everywhere but UCSC: UC Berkeley, UC Davis, CSU-Monterey Bay, Cabrillo College. N.B., some kid from Berkeley was named in the Sentinel coverage as "Skittles." Delightful! Also suprising: I didn't see anyone I knew there. I've been at this school for three years and have a pretty large circle of acquaintances: colleagues, grad students, current students, former students, etc. Of course, it's possible that my students saw and avoided me...

Random 4/20 observations:

• You could not pay me enough to eat the vegan food being sold onsite by the Hare Krishnas.
  
• Hippie guys are not very attractive.
  
• God is surprisingly wrathful. That's probably bad news for my afterlife plans.
  
• Too many people brought their dogs (which are prohibited on campus). And too many of them were pit bulls.
  
• I thought there would be more music (of the non-bongo variety). Where were all the people I saw walking with acoustic guitars?
  
• It was SO FUCKING HOT.
  

All in all, I think I learned some important lessons. And I hope that I have created a precious anthropological record--especially for those of you who wonder what undergrad life is like nowadays.

Oh, and of course, I will NEVER do this again.

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I'm working on a dream

Even as you read this, Fosco is already in San Jose, waiting in a line for tonight's Bruce Springsteen concert! Tonight is the opening show of the "Working on a Dream" tour, which is kind of a big deal for lowly San Jose. Even better, Fosco's good friend Todd is in town for the show. Look for a concert review from Fosco sometime in the next week. Read a great story of a Bruce fan's journey here.


You know what Fosco would love to hear tonight? "Working on the Highway." A very underappreciated song. Fingers crossed.

Vietnamese in a Shoebox

Fosco took a little break from blogging this weekend. It was nice, but I still thought about all of you--frequently and fondly.

It was an action-packed weekend, with some piratical fun (more on that later), a Rock Band 2 marathon, and an emotional punch in the gut (courtesy of the newest BSG episode). But here's a highlight for you: a new restaurant review!

Yesterday, Fosco and Oz were in the city and decided to have Vietnamese "street food" for lunch. Fosco may have mentioned before that he's head-over-heels for the upscale Vietnamese food in the Bay Area (like the thrillingly precise Slanted Door or the artsy and romantic Tamarine). And that's not to mention the more traditional fanciness of Thanh Long (buttery garlic noodles!). But Oz promised this food would be quite different: simpler, more casual, and much heartier.

And so we went to the oddly named Cordon Bleu Restaurant on Nob Hill. Oz had warned me that the place was tiny, but I was still surprised. There were two tables and one counter with stools--seating for maybe fifteen customers. However, the room is painted a cheery yellow and there are pictures, so it's actually quite pleasant:


All of the cooking is performed behind the counter on a grilltop and a deep fryer:


Look at those Imperial Rolls coming out of the fryer!


The food is essentially a plate lunch. I got the #5 plate: a piece of 5-spice roasted chicken, a shish kebab, rice with meat gravy, cabbage salad, and an imperial roll. It was beautiful:

That's the 5-spice chicken breast at the top. The menu humbly suggests that it's "Possibly the best chicken outside of Vietnam." I think that is possibly right: it was juicy, tender, and deliciously smoky from the spices. The "shish kebab" is on the rice in the middle. It's actually not on a skewer; rather, it's a piece of beef pounded thin, marinated and grilled. The gravy for the rice is tomato based and has ground beef and onions in it--the flavor is reminiscent of Midwestern macaroni goulash (which is not a bad thing). The gravy is Oz's favorite. The imperial roll is mine--it was exceptional, better than any I've had anywhere else. Oh, and you know what makes this even better? My plate cost $6.85. That is a serious deal for some serious food.

Smoke Factory

Here's a satellite picture of the Santa Cruz area today:

Okay, not really. But it feels like it.

I hope the fires don't threaten the historic site of the first UCSC Pot-Lympics.

Thursday Quickies

There is a nasty haze of smoke over Santa Cruz today, thanks to a big (though non-threatening) wildfire over the mountains. Fosco has a scratchy throat today and he's blaming it on the smoke. I don't know how they're going to put out the fire, because it hasn't rained here since April or so. Maybe they'll just let it burn for a few months. I'm starting to feel like I'm living in John Mackey's LA (click on the "Griffith Park Fire" link to see some thrilling pics). But hey--that's LA! LA is supposed to be an inferno. This is the nice part of of California. There shouldn't be smoke in paradise, baby.

Fosco has no energy to write a long post right now. So here are some quickies:

• Speaking of the Inferno, there is a Purity Test based on the sins in Dante's Scholastic hell. Take it here. Fosco gets placed in the Seventh Level:
  

  Beyond the wood is scorching sand where those who committed violence against God and nature are showered with flakes of fire that rain down against their naked bodies. Blasphemers and sodomites writhe in pain, their tongues more loosed to lamentation, and out of their eyes gushes forth their woe.

  That sounds about right.
  
  
• Football-loving homosexuals unite! Outsports has created a head-to-head Gay vs. Straight Fantasy Football Contest. Can the gays play FF better than the hets? Well, Fosco played fantasy football for like eight years with eleven straightish people. He won the championship once, was runner-up once, and finished third twice. That's not bad. Respect the homos, football fans--we know a little somethin'.
  
  
• You may recall that Fosco loves "High School Musical" (and the sequel!). So how irresistible is it that a nudie pic of HSM star Vanessa Hudgens showed up on the internet today [link is sorta SFW, thanks to Photoshop]. Even better, the always reliable TMZ confirms that the pic is real. I bet Disney will be really happy, because any publicity is good publicity, right?
  
  Of course, a nude VanHudge still doesn't compare (in Fosco's book) to a shirtless Zac Ephron.
  
  
  Even better, there is a report that Zac's orange tan is fading.
  
  
• You may remember Ted's infatuation with the line "It was like watching a dog play the piano" (over at the Gideonse Bible). It's a good line.
  
  Now Fosco has come across a similar line that he's pretty fond of. From yesterday's Gawker post on socialite Tinsley Mortimer's new blog:
  

  It's like My Little Pony learned how to type!

  Fosco is thinking about changing his whole blog concept so that he could claim that title.