Better than any corrupt government shuttle, multibillion-dollar commercial spaceship or Martian-piloted UFO, Weed Wine Magic will get you high.
Want to take you higher…I wanna take you higher…Let me take you higher.
Thank you Sly and the Family’s Stoned.
That’s why Stephanie Bressler, my hippie editor to whom I am married, and I are inviting you to attend the local blastoff for my third novel, the sequel to my first novel Blood Red Syrah.
The Weed Wine Magic rocket touches down Sunday, October 20, from 2 to 4 p.m. at Case Quattro Winery, 1542 Main Street, Peckville, PA.
This saga has been a long time coming, its inspiration blossoming more than 50 years ago when as a Penn State star trooper majoring in interplanetary cerebral travel I first envisioned a super cannabis strain called Hoocha Weed. These singing, dancing plants grew lush and untamed in the Wild West and first traveled east on a loaded stagecoach driven by America’s first coast-to-coast pioneer pot smugglers.
Long before Stephanie and I met and eventually moved to the California Central Coast I experimented with my mind and times, tasting life in several lanes as I experienced unpredictable rolling brain waves and joints. For the record, I haven’t used an illegal drug in more than 40 years. I even passed on getting high during our last visit to California where recreational cannabis has legally been available since 2018.
Weed Wine Magic offers what I call primo Freekreational cannabis-infused wine that offers the chance to consider winemaking from the grapes’ point of view — a kaleidoscopic look inside their trippy little minds.
“Free” as in free.
“Freak” as in freak.
Freekreational as in Weed Wine Magic.
My novel offers readers a mystical, magical tour of yet another metaphysical nexus. Weed Wine Magic provides an unholy yet celestial link to my holy trinity of countercultural teachers, a connection to the past that nurtures the present and future for those of us who recognize ourselves in what the Dunites called “the face of the clam.” Literary enlightenment provided by the ghosts of Ken Kesey, Richard Brautigan and Carlos Castaneda guides me as a writer and thinker willing to face bleak darkness while prospecting fiery light.
Dunites, true to life bohemian mystics, shape the Weed Wine Magic tale and once actually lived as a far-out beach tribe of seekers on the California Central Coast where Blood Red Syrah and Weed Wine Magic are set. Dunites will live forever in the minds of those of us willing to book passage beyond the beyond and take the trip.
Stephanie and I are Dunites.
Our party does not appear on the ballot in the November elections.
That’s me in the photograph, by the way, standing guard at the ruins of Maya moon goddess Ixchel’s temple her followers built centuries ago in Isla Mujeres off the coast of the Mexican Yucatán Peninsula. Ixchel plays a crucial role in the Weed Wine Magic epic as does Mexican death saint La Santa Muerte, who graces the cover of the book, and Sinaloan narco-martyr of the poor Jesús Malverde.
So join us for a cosmic connection, a glass of wine (unfortunately not Hoocha Weed wine) and a nice afternoon among kindred spirits who respect the continuing search for truth in our chaotic world gone mad.
Peace and love, people, peace and love.