Acid changed everything. Politics, relationships, civil rights, fashion, religion, war, peace, freedom, diet, philosophy, soap operas, you name it; whatever had heretofore just been sort of happening from day to day got apprehended and appreciated in a whole different way once you took your first little orange speckled hit of LSD—or ate your first sugar cube, or licked your first square of blotter paper, or dissolved your first windowpane on the tip of your tongue, or drank your first Dixie Cup of Kool Aid. Your hair grew long. You wore necklaces and colorful clothes—talk about a pied piper or two, holy mackerel, all of a sudden it was a pied population—the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker. You gave yourself a new personality, made yourself into characters from kids' books. You wore elfin cloaks and hung out with guys named Gandalf. You saw things that weren't there, things you always wanted to be there and never were or things that had been there all along that you just hadn't noticed before. A universe in a grain of sand might have been stretching it a bit, but the garbage in the streets sure didn't look like the garbage in the streets used to look. And the flowers. It was like Suzanne taking you down to her place by the river and feeding you tea and oranges that came all the way from China.

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