The Eastern Sun and a New Day

San Francisco Defense criminal defense attorney remembers his hippie phaseI remember the eastern sun streaming through the dirty sliding glass door on the East Side of our home on Fleetwood Way in Bakersfield, California, after a long night of dropping LSD and drinking Budweiser.

I would awaken with the pounding sensation in my addled and disoriented brain and the feeling of extreme nausea which would well up into a cascade of vomit of yellow bile which would produce a fountain of a multi-colored stomach contents.  We used to call it “the technicolor yawn,” “praying to the porcelain god,” “yacking,” or just plain puking your guts out.  This unpleasant side effect wasn’t from the acid, but from the beer that followed the acid that made me so sick.  But I loved beer, so I drank it anyway.

For me, it was a necessary price to pay for what we regarded as partying, tripping, or getting high, which usually included copious amounts of LSD in different forms: blotter paper or microdots (small saccharin tablets coated in LSD).  Sometimes we would get liquid acid on a sugar cube or crystal acid in its raw form, which was the most powerful.  My record was 22 hits of yellow microdot.

San Francisco criminal defense attorney had fantasies about police and can-can girls
That shit had me hallucinating: a parade of police officers dancing into my room with circa 1920's police uniforms carrying nightsticks followed by girls doing the can-can.  I loved acid during my formative teenage years.  On my very first trip, I saw a spaceship shooting red and white lights into the sky – it was one of the most beautiful, colorful sights I had ever seen.  There is something about hallucinogens that I can barely explain except that it produces mind and body experiences that a dummy like me would risk suffering a felony conviction – or even a gunshot – just to get high.

When I was about 16 years old, I was in Boulder, Colorado, smoking marijuana, but before I lit up, I stuffed about 100 hits of LSD that I had in a baggie into a Marlboro cigarette box.  I’m glad I did.

I was smoking away that night in the bushes, and when I looked up, I saw a Boulder Police Officer shining a flashlight on me.

Like any intelligent 16-year-old would, I started to run when I saw him, but by the time I reached the other side of the bushes, he had his gun pointed at me, and he threatened to shoot me.  I stopped dead in my tracks.

He searched me and found and subsequently seized the pot I had, but he never found the LSD I had stuffed in the cigarette box, which I had dropped somewhere along the way. I never went back for it either.

By the way, the Supreme court regards a police shooting as a seizure under the Fourth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, so if the police shoot you unlawfully, your relatives can sue the police for killing you even though you are dead, but I wouldn't recommended getting shot for running from the police.  It’s simply just a bad idea.

If you need help (before you're dead) because you've been accused of drug possession or other crimes, check out my criminal defense website and give me a call at 415.495.4800.


  1. Glad to see your blog back up and running

  2. This was really an interesting topic and I kinda agree with what you have mentioned here!our site