It was December 12, 1993.
I drank some Amanita Muscaria tea at a Grateful Dead show. A lot of it.
I was severely blissful throughout that entire show. In fact I was so happy, I had no sensation of pain anywhere. Anything could have occurred to me and it would not have hurt. I had to consciously remember to not run into walls or fall over ledges.
My sense of depth was all twisted around into crazy parameters. Things that were far looked close, and things that were close looked far. I could smell colors and taste music (which is synesthesia, a common occurrence on lots of psychedelics).
I’ve also had a terrible experience or two on other, safer mushrooms. But those experiences taught me valuable things that I’m very happy to know, and benefit greatly from now. I also know if the mushrooms are not crispy cracker dry from point of origin… they may contain fungi that can cause nausea.
Lots of coincidences occurred that night. I came across my next door childhood neighbor during intermission. I came across my cousin. I came across my best friend from 2nd grade. I saw people from work there. I danced with the nicest beautiful girls and alongside great people and shared joints with four generations of people.
The music of the show was amazing starting out with Shakedown Street, identifying with the scene outside, with everyone vending their wares, and ending with Around and Around and an encore of I Fought the Law but the Law Won, as a nod to the San Diego Police who made a heavy presence. The middle of the show had an amazing 14 minute drum set that blew my mind, I left my body literally and met other people in the ether above the seats, who left their bodies, too. The 14 minutes of drums morphed into a space-jazz jam that started out very scary, very creepy, very nervewracking. The audience became jittery and scared. People fidgeted. Cigarettes got lit. Others just stared ahead in total nervous awe. But the longtime trippers knew not to worry. Just wait and let the music carry you for good or bad to where it is going. And this scary jam meandered for a very clammy feeling 9 minutes or so, conjuring up everyone’s personal demons in their own minds for them to acknowledge and face, but before 10 minutes of this were up, the space-jam morphed into a beat and a rhythm, and beautiful waves of warmth came out of Jerry’s guitar and showered the audience with loving springtime renewal and the jazzy scary air was cleared, and tears came out and smiles formed, and formerly nervous asses started getting out of seats and dancing to a beautiful rendition of The Wheel Small wheel turns by the fire and rod, big wheel turns by the grace of God; every time that wheel turns round, bound to cover just a little more ground The audience exploded in happiness and all remaining order of which-seat-belongs-to-who gave way to a bachnallian eruption of dancing and celebration.
After the show there was much food and partying in the parking lot, then I walked home after the cops cleared the area. I walked home because I was still tripping hard as ever. On the way home, a guy driving a pickup pulls up. “Great show! Get in, I’ll take you home!”.
So i got in, and he’s driving, and he says “Are you tripping?” I said “Yeah, I ate mushrooms”. He then said, “Oh yeah? me too!”
At the next red light, I told him I didn’t need a ride no more, and got out and walked the rest of the way home, but not before stopping at the beach where the parking lot party was inevitably moved to.
So I can say I had some Amanita and it was really, really nice.
Here’s the show I was at: http://www.archive.org/details/gd93-12-12.sbd.set2.nawrocki.19317.sbeok.shnf