You can have Jay-Z. I've got TOMMY CHONG!

Tommy Chong of Cheech and Chong fame had a book signing for his new work, Cheech and Chong: The Unauthorized Biography, at Bryant Park in New York City today. Being tapped into marijuana culture, I'd figure that this gathering would be huge so I was somewhat concerned at the short time time period he would be there from 12:30 to 1:45, in the afternoon. I was worried I wouldn't get my book signed nor would I get to meet Tommy Chong. Fortunately, I suppose, this gathering was pretty small especially for a free event.

I waited all week for this event. I had everything planned out. I'd ask a question, engage Tommy Chong, get a picture with him, shake the man's hand, and definitely get my book signed and maybe even break my 2+ month old marijuana sabbatical. For me, it would be like meeting any other person. I live in New York City. I never even looked twice when I saw a celebrity. It didn't bother me. I was immune to groupie-ism, or so I thought.

I watched Tommy Chong enter the location - a little old man, no that tall, wily white hair, and a wrinkled face. He wasn't any different than a million old men I've seen in my lifetime. He sat down and I watched the old dog speak. He was asked questions by Josh Gilbert, director of the documentary, AKA Tommy Chong. He spoke about marijuana laws, government, how he spent his time in jail, and so on. He fielded some questions from the audience ending with a woman who asked how she should approach her 16 year-old son that was smoking marijuana. Tommy Chong ended his long answer with, "Just love him!"

It was now book signing time. I was going to get to meet the man. I was ready. I hopped on the line, book in hand, determined to get the job. BUT. As I got closer to getting my book signed, my anxiety level climbed to heights never before seen in my mind. This pioneer on so many fronts - music, television, comedy - was sitting there ready to sign whatever people had for him to sign.

I WAS SHOOK.

All of that other stuff had to go out of the window. I didn't even know who I would get to take the picture of myself and Tommy Chong. How would ask this guy if he wanted to have a smoke session, IN FRONT OF ALL THESE PEOPLE? How could I engage Tommy Chong in conversation? I am just one person in a long line of people waiting to have their items signed.

I WAS SHOOK.

I got up there and Tommy Chong says, "Hey there big guy!"

HUH? WHAT?

He says my name and asks me if I am Italian. I'm stuck. I've never been asked if I was Italian, before. Normally, I get Puerto Rican in which case, I'd say, "Yes, but I am more Black than Puerto Rican. I am Quarter Rican." It's a line I've used a million times over. But, I said I was Puerto Rican. WHOA! It was like I got in front of Tommy Chong and forgot my own fucking identity. He asked me if I had ever been to Puerto Rico. I thought of that one hellish time I was stuck there when my plane was canceled. I guess my hatred of that moment took over. I told Tommy Chong, "No!" He said, "You should visit. It's beautiful there!" I responded, "Yeah, I only pass through!" He chuckled.

Throughout that interaction, I don't even remember when I asked the man to take the picture with my camera. It was as if I was on autopilot. I got the bare minimum done - book signed and picture taken - and I got the fuck outta there. The rest of my day, I was high. The meeting with Tommy Chong was almost as good a fat blunt of Jack Herer - almost!

Anyway, I am only up to chapter 6 in the book. But, Tommy Chong has already lead a wild life. He had three children by three different women. You'll have to read for yourself how he pulled all of that off without a typical Jerry Springer moment. He'd been deep in Motown music, something I never knew. And one moment in that time period in his life is this amazing metaphor in chapter 4, page 38:

"Tina was a wonder - a pure African sex goddess with energy and edginess that complemented her husky voice. When Tina sang, the mic became a big, hard cock and it was your cock that she was breathing hot, sultry lyrics into, at times pressing her beautiful lips against the substitute penis."