Back in the day near Boston when I had to raid the penny jar to buy a nickel bag, we had to roll our own; remember that. Amsterdam was just a dot on a map hung over my bed.

Amongst our stoned gatherings was a railroad fireman who had lost both thumbs in an early accident. Amazingly, he was the guy who always wanted to roll the joints, and they were perfect each time. It was awesome to see how he actually did it: Just think how you would roll a joint without any thumbs… I often thank Lady Luck; not only for my thumbs, but that Amsterdam is now more than just a dot on my map.