Rolling
Stone, 13 December 1969, p. 14.
Drug Rap: 3 for The Price of 1
Ben
Fong-Torres
SAN FRANCISCO -- They drove this narcotics agent right out of their
classroom. He had come to clue them in on drugs -- something all high school
kids should know about, of course -- and he thought he'd really show them
something. So he passed this real live joint of weed around the class on a
plate. And when the plate had finished the rounds and got back to him, see, it
had three joints in it. The narc
mumbled, stumbled, and made a hasty retreat.
Dr.
Richard Blum, from Stanford, looked out at the 400 high school editors seated
under the orange icicle chandeliers in the Hilton Hotel's Continental Ballroom,
where the Tom Campbell Drug Rap had just begun. He had recounted the story, and
gotten a laugh, but he couldn't say what it meant. [...]
See
also Brunvand, The Choking Doberman, 162-3;
Brunvand, Too Good To Be True, 331;
Richard Dorson, America in Legend, 269. Cf.
David
Hardy, What A Mistake (Secaucus, NJ:
Castle , 1987), 101.
Florida students were delighted one year during their Rag
Week festivities to welcome the offer of
a local police officer to show off his tracker dog's remarkable
sleuthing facility.
However,
somebody blundered in selecting the venue for the event, for when, having
concealed ten packets of cannabis about the room, the officer let his sniffing
side-kick off the leash, the indefatigable bloodhound came back with 11!
