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There is a disparity within our society and nature — one which plagues well-intended stoners like myself, and disproportionately favors the vermin of the forest.
Why is it that, during the autumnal months, it’s perfectly natural for squirrels to forage for chestnuts, but when I do it, I am “way too high” and I “need to put some clothes on?”
I’ve had a bone to pick with whoever decides what’s socially appropriate ever since the first time I was arrested for shimmying up some sturdy foliage after facing a baker’s dozen blunts over the course of an afternoon, down to my birthday suit (because that’s how you get the best traction for shimmying, naturally). But when the police cuffed me and read me my rights, at least half a dozen fuzzy little critters did the same thing right in front of them! And at no point did they whip out some bite-sized bracelets and carry any of them to the big treehouse. Explain to me how that is justice!
Why is anyone worried about me harvesting some tasty chestnuts from their trees anyway? I know it’s their property or whatever, but it’s not like they’re gonna use them — they’ll either get nabbed by squirrels or go to waste, like they always do. Why then have eight different people so far taken issue with an honest man who pops by when he’s got a kush-induced hankering for the only nut that wears a hat? And why were they all wondering why I was naked, as if that’s a thing that requires explanation?
If you think there’s something “abnormal” or “illegal” about what I’m doing, then I invite you to revisit a timeless number called “The Christmas Song” by the incomparable Nat King Cole. The song opens with Cole crooning the words, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…” And I ask you: how do you think old Nat got his hands on those chestnuts? The obvious answer is that he’d get flame-roasted on jazz cabbage, slip out of his zoot suit, and contend with the self-righteous, monopolizing squirrels of the 1940’s.
And speaking of monopolies, it’s also high time we address the issue of money-grubbing elites who ruthlessly control the industrial complex I like to call “Big Nuts.” These corporate fat cats have had a stranglehold on the chestnut market since I was smoking middies from a soda can. Through marketing and manipulation, they’ve convinced the public that only mammals without tax ID numbers should be climbing naked up trees in search of nuts, but I say nay. I refuse to swallow anything Big Nuts has to offer.
In conclusion, and before the cops arrive, there is no good reason that squirrels should be allowed the total domain of the treetops and the delicious nuts they have to offer. Furthermore, if I want to get positively ripped, and yes, maybe take my clothes off and climb a tree, I should have as fair a shot at the fruits of nature as any other member of the animal kingdom. Now, please stop looking — I get stage fright, and it’s also pretty cold outside.
Tyler Dark is a stand-up comedian and writer from Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
