Fleabag Friend said:

Not sure why I feel like writing this, just popped into my head that I ought too. Most folks I share it with think it's rather neat, so why not share with the community here!

This is my roach clip.


There's a nice history behind them and it starts off with a story. Years ago when I was first discovering cannabis, I had taken a trip up to my Uncles farm in Arkansas to help him work. He smokes a great deal of weed as well. Throughout his days, he smokes while he works or while he does whatever else he pleases. He is a good man and I really do love being around him. I was young, around sixteen at the time and although I knew about his use and had smoked it plenty myself with friends and all, it was still hard to come by. I didn't have the guts to approach him, in the hopes of getting to share it with him, for I feared word would spread, as some of my family while not caring about his choices, would certainly be displeased with my own decisions to delve into the mind altering states of the wonderful plant at such a young age.

Well my uncle being as old school as he is, rolls up filterless joints with classic orange zig zags. Not wanting to be wasteful, he collects up his roaches in the various locations where ever he happens to be toking and saves them for a rainy day. My sixteen year old self nosing around the property struck gold and had stumbled upon an old cigarette box full of the deliciously resin coated roaches in the shop. Knowing he had plenty elsewhere (especially in his house) and wouldn't miss a few of them here, I grabbed about six or seven roaches of various lengths and attempted to enjoy them that evening.

I left the shops garage door open and after he had gone to bed proceeded to sit down in the door way with my feet in the grass and fire up. The first one with a little coaxing got me coming up good. I remember sitting there facing the cow field and just marveling at how dark it was. The pitch black seemed to be almost enveloping me. No moon with a good bit a cloud cover, out there in the middle of desolate Arkansas with zero light pollution. It was almost unnerving, yet peaceful at the same time.

I had been using a zippo as I have carried one religiously since around age ten. While they claim to be wind proof, they said nothing about being wind steady, and It was not working well so close to my skin. Suffering from stinging fingers I began longing for some roach clips to save me from the wrath of my zippo. I searched around the work bench close to where I had found the roaches and found nothing but a few old clothespins of the spring loaded clip variety. Close enough! (Thinking back, had I just looked up I could've used a pair of needle nose pliers hanging on the wall, but don't criticize, I was sixteen and stoned in the dark!)

It was awkward to say the least, I had to hold the roaches more on the side of the clothespin and had to maintain constant pressure with my fingers. Bringing them to my lips was just as odd as I had to mash them against my cheek to provide me access to the roach, and of course some stayed lit better than others. And all this in the dark. Sounds easy right? But wait there's more! Just as I'm about halfway through the roaches I've picked, my damn zippo goes dry on me. No more lighter. Now I'm already pretty damn stoned but I'm bound and determined at this point after all
my "effort" to finish the mission. So it's back to the work bench where I discover a pocket size box of wood matches. Haha! Now it gets really fun!

So now I'm high as hell, with a clothespin roach clip, repeatadly striking matches trying to smoke these roaches in the countryside darkness. Sounds like a great big pain in the ass, and while to most it doesn't sound worth the effort, believe me it was. Just like putting a lot of effort into preparing a meal usually has it taste better In the end, all my smoking efforts were well rewarded when I was through. What a wonderful feeling, just can't describe it. To a sixteen year old it means a lot. Sitting there alone in the shop, enjoying my high...

So what does this rediculous story have to do with this rusty roach clip? Well after spending two weeks on this farm busting ass bailing hay with my uncle and I think smoking only once more (equally as beautiful, but without clips by a pond in the forest, burned fingers and all, another story) I had finally come to the end of my visit. I was chilling on my uncles porch on an infrequently used porch swing. Beside it was a stand of sorts and atop it an ash tray full of old cigarette butts, spiderwebs, and dust. I look inside and what do I find!? The very clip I present to you now! Haha! If only I found this before! I had a nice chuckle and it was a wonderful way to finish off one of my first times truly being away from home by myself, in a place I have such fond memories of filled with family and joy.

They had been there a long time. Rusted as badly as they were and packed with filth and hardly opening, I could only wonder to myself. Perhaps my Aunt, who had died a few years before, and who we all loved and miss dearly, had sat in the very swing I was sitting in, and toked a nice doobie with these very clips. Perhaps she may have passed it to my uncle one cool summer evening after a long day and chilled with him under the Christmas lights they kept on their porch year round. Maybe it was my uncle who had taken a break from the heat one day and finished a long smoke in the shade with it and looked out at the heat shimmering off the pastures while the cicadas hummed away in the trees. Who knows.

I took the clips home with me and cleaned them up when I got back to Texas. Some time under the sink, a pass with a cotton swab and a few drops of oil made them good as new. Anytime I smoked I usually had it. All my friends knew what they were and gave me a smile whenever I brought them out. I lost it countless times and gave it up for good a couple of them. Once in the street on the other side of my neighborhood, in my friends truck, in the couch, in the grass. It always kept coming back to me. And most recently after the flooding during hurricane Harvey, where my home got 4ft of water.

So many countless hazy memories, all the significant things cannabis has taught me, all the beautiful times I've had with pot. These clips were right there along for the ride. You know, some people have a favorite piece of glass. A dirty ol pipe they've had for years.  Something part of the ritual that has become integrated in their experience. Well this silly old rusty clip has been that for me. Some of the most profound experiences I've had with weed was just puffing on roaches with this.

And currently I haven't smoked in almost a year maybe more. Having a job that drug tests is a bummer and I won't get into all the political bs that goes into that. But I saw these clips and it got me thinking. One of these days I'll smoke again. I'm gonna bring it to my uncle and share my story with him, and we're gonna toke together, something I've never done with him. And I'll be looking forwards to that day. And who knows I might just even give it back to him, considering I stole it in the first place. He'll probably even think it's silly, and it really is, but it's those silly little things in life that matter most, ya know?

Peace to anyone who stuck around and read the whole damn thing, mostly did it for the lonely stoned who happen to be lurking the forums like I would on occasion. I know I always liked a good story. Much love to all.

Please feel free to comment, share similar stories, or ask questions, I encourage it.

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