Pooh had his thoughtful spot, and it’s been my experience that most people have a favorite spot for smoking dope. It’s it used to be near, or directly above where the tray was slid beneath the couch. Or the bong behind the chair. If you’re lucky, you get a room of your own. I’m lucky.
Just don’t call it a man cave.
Oddly enough, it’s the bedroom I grew up in, although that was almost fifty years ago. When I moved back in the house, I found my parents had painted the room a nasty yellowish beige color, with pink carpeting. And a lovely, country floral border at the top.
The kind of room I’d never be able to get an erection in.
With just the wife and I in the house now, we’ve looked at what we could do with various rooms. It’s next to my office, and I thought it a good idea to get recreation out of my work space. And get me up from in front a computer.
When I moved back in the house, I found my parents had painted the room a nasty yellowish beige color, with pink carpeting. And a lovely, country floral border at the top … The kind of room I’d never be able to get an erection in.
The roots of my decorating style
When I was a little boy, I was a Beatles freak. Starting when I was five and they came out with Revolver. Over there by the door is where I had my first stereo, which was actually a mono record player, and where I wore out my sister’s copy of Sgt. Pepper. The wall above the radiator had the poster from the White Album.
Music was always a decorating element, whether posters, album covers, or my first drum set.
In the late sixties or early seventies, a nearby head shop went out of business. Mom and dad took my two sisters and myself to the sale, as my sisters who were older wanted black light posters. I remember my sister got one of two people hugging, and it read “all you need is love.” When we got home and turned on the blacklight, it became two people fucking. Dad nearly had a coronary.
My poster had a longer lasting influence I think. It was the classic War Isn’t Healthy For Children And Other Living Things. My mom and dad bled red, white and blue. Very pro military. And why they bought that for me I have no clue. But it helped to make me a dedicated pacifist.
I also remember having a John Lennon poster, a drawing of him as a knight, which scared the hell out of me. The eyes followed you, especially when you lay in bed trying to sleep. I found a bad copy of it on Ebay for $60, but it would likely still scare me.
“So I set out to create the best hippie bedroom I can muster, on a very limited budget.”
As a teenager I moved into the room where my office is now. By then I was into Tolkien and hobbits, and I’ve managed to track down a Lord of the Rings poster I had as a teenager.
By the time we were teenagers, myself and my friends were strangely obsessed with our rooms. We were forever “redoing” them. Organizing our records. Oh hell, we were fucking nerds. There’s no getting around that.
So I asked myself, if this was going to become the lounge, what style should I, could I afford to decorate in?
Teenage hippie bedroom of course. I need to keep the bed for visitors, and furniture is too heavy to haul down the stairs. So I set out to create the best hippie bedroom I can muster, the ideal environment for getting high, on a very limited budget.
I decided for now, the carpet has to stay. There’s a wood floor under that, but there are a few projects ahead of it. So lighting needs to be dim.
I always wanted a black light room
I love the way they feel, with the colors vibrating off the wall. Watching purple people smile with green teeth and eyes.
For a blacklight room to work you need black walls. I didn’t want to paint, and I have a large collection of black sheets which I’d used when we had a recording studio in the garage. I also have a couple large tapestries, which filled one wall and part of another. Add to that, tall furniture and I had two walls left to cover.
The ceiling in the corner is a bit fucked up, but hanging black mosquito netting over the bed from that spot covers it nicely. And it blocks part of the wall, meaning I’d need one less poster and light.
It took four sheets to cover the space, which might run $30. It’s more economical to paint, but you may not always want black walls. And if you’re renting, it’s a great option.
That left room for five posters, none of which cost more than $12. For each one I bought a blacklight tube, hung them from hooks placed near the ceiling and ran the cords behind the sheets.
I also have a couple lights coming up from the bottom, to help fill out the color. I think those ran about $10 each.
Of course you have to block out the light, but that was easy. The large tapestry covered the double door to the bathroom, and there are no windows in the hallway. Mom had a surprisingly tasteful set of curtains on the remaining window, thick enough to block most of the light. And it matches the bed spread.
The problem with sheets on the walls is they don’t make a nice even line. It looks sloppy. But mother had a bunch of red, white and blue bunting, and one strip covered where the sheets met the ceiling nicely.
And the American flag was a hippie decorating tradition. In fifth grade, I had a drawing teacher, a high school student. He was a freak. He gave me three posters. One was Candice Bergen in a bikini. The other was Keith Moon of the Who, and Vivian Stanshall of The Bonzo Dog Band, dressed as Hitler and Eva Braun.
The third was from Easy Rider. Peter Fonda’s gas tank was painted like an American Flag, and he had one on the back of his jacket. It’s a testament to my dad that he let me keep it up.
There was never any question about Candice Bergen.
The essential bit of furniture for the lounge
I turned on the black lights and turned off the overhead light and the room came to life. I looked to the other side of the room, thinking I might do the same there, and saw the lights and posters reflected in the mirror on the long dresser and had an epiphany.
It looked exactly like the view of a tavern from the mirror behind the bar. The dresser is about seven feet long, about the right height for sitting at in a chair. And it’s good solid wood, like a good bar.
I grabbed a chair and slid it in front of the newly christened bar, and it fit like a glove.
You need a flat surface to get high. It certainly helps with dab rigs, a place for your drinks and your weed. And to sit the bong on so you’re not constantly kicking it over. I anticipated, rightly, a fair amount of drinking taking place here as well.
Had to have a bar. But I only needed one side, the side you sit at. There’s no bartender, so all I need on that side is a mirror.
I’ve spent countless hours watching myself in the mirror of one bar or another. It’s a handy thing to have, to visually check for clues that it’s time to stop. Now I get to do it with a purple face and green teeth.
Another essential … tunes
My first record player was a Zenith. It had been my parents. It had a tiny speaker, a turntable, volume and tone control. Then I got their next reject, also a Zenith. An Allegro system, and graduated to separate bass and treble controls. Along with an eight track.
For the moment I have a computer hooked up, but the operating system is old so Apple Music doesn’t work on there. But YouTube does and I have Bose speakers hooked up to that. Plus a portable Bluetooth speaker so I can send tunes from the phone.
I’ll soon be getting an Apple TV and screen from downstairs in here. With that I’ll have access to all my music, videos and whatever else I need. I miss the big speakers … bass heavy enough to make your guts rumble. But I’ve learned to live with bookshelf speakers and a subwoofer.
Accessories
A typical teenage bedroom was decorated in large part by record albums. Even if not consciously on display, they were usually scattered around. I only have a handful of albums left, after having jettisoned the collection when I moved to New York twenty years ago. The ones I do have are essential though … Aqualung, Dark Side of the Moon, The White Album.
My friend Rango had my copy of Abbey Road from when I was a kid. Worn out, but an original. And my copy of Ringo, his best solo album. They now sit where they sat fifty years ago.
A hippie bedroom needs a lava lamp, which I already had. And there’s a plasma ball as well. The overhead lights are black light bulbs and red bulbs. The only white light in the room is a tiny camping lantern from Bare Bones, which I carry outside as well. There’s also a black light tube on the bar.
We picked up a cut glass lantern from Pier One last year, which was likely designed to hold a candle. A long strand of Christmas lights work better though.
I always keep an eye out after Halloween for these little revolving lights. It’s a colored light inside a many faceted shade, and makes a molten light show on the ceiling. I still have three from years ago, and could use a couple more. The effect, particularly the blue ones, is of being underwater. With the reds, it’s kind of like being under water when a volcano is erupting.
And of course, you need incense and incense burner. But that’s an article by itself.
Does it work?
The bed is a popular destination when people visit the lounge. It’s a great place to lay and stare at the revolving lights on the ceiling, and let your mind wander. And because cannabis seems to hit you harder in here.
Weed goes right to your head, because you’re in a time capsule. It’s the room you always wanted back in high school, when you got your first bag of weed. I like to think that part of us lives on, down inside us. And when we get old enough, or get a chance to do it, why not dig your freak flag out of the closet and fly it. Even if it’s behind closed doors.
Speaking of which, I do need love beads for the doorway.
I have my own memories in this room, so I’m biased. It’s an over all healthy development. I use to try to do too many things. I don’t think I stopped from 1990 till 2020. Then one night I sat down and didn’t do anything. And it felt amazing. Now I have a place to sit and not do anything. We need that.
And from that, memories opened up. It’s how I remembered where the stereo was. Where my shelves were that my models sat on. Scale models of the Beatles of course.
And how it felt to be ten years old again. All in all, I spent a little over a hundred bucks. And I got memories returned to me from it, and you can’t buy for any amount of money.