Dave's Not Here

A few months ago, I saw something on the Web about a Cheech and Chong reunion tour, noticed that they were going to be playing nearby and impulsively bought tickets for me and the kids. Now if you take into account that Weeds is considered family viewing in our house, this is almost like our version of going to the Christmas Show at Radio City. When I told the kids about it, they were both psyched, especially my older son.

"No fuckin' way!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. "This is amazing! Dad, you don't understand! I'm like bugging out here."

"You don't understand, dude," I shot back. "I grew up with these guys! I used to carry around an 8-track player with all of their albums and I'd annoy the shit out of everybody by constantly saying, 'Dave's not here.'"

"Dad, you don't understand," he went on. "I've downloaded like all of their movies. Up in Smoke!? I've seen like a million times. This is going to be so fuckin' cool!"

Predictably, my wife didn't understand why I would do such a stupid thing. She felt that I was sending the kids a mixed message -- "hey guys, don't get high, but let's go see these stoners who made getting high famous!" To be honest with you, the only thing I thought about at the time was having some fun with my kids and it wasn't like I was taking them to a strip club (yet).

Of course, this was all before my older son began to spiral out of control, but even before then, I just had a not-the-good-kind funny feeling that we weren't gonna make this show. I know, it's weird and I can't really explain it other than for an ironic God working in His usually mysterious fucked up ways.

So while my younger son attends the show tonight with two of his buddies, my wife and I will be tending to my older son in the hospital. Maybe Dave will be there, too.