OK, I smoked a little weed on the P-I's roof at 6th and Wall, as Tom Robbins recalls in a video clip here today, but it was done in the spirit of high journalism: as copy editors, we all inhaled as part of our mandate to turn out memorable headlines (Phnom Penh Phalls). So what if it later took, as Tom says, 20 semi-comatose minutes to edit two paragraphs...every letter turned out perfect! (Then there were those late-night respites at Danny's 4th Avenue where the happy hour included every other drink for a penny. At the bar, we also proofed P-I news pages for errors, always making the next day's paper a delight to read). Update: For posterity, I should include the other journalism drug of newsroom choice then, acid, which had its hallucinatory drawbacks. In the words of a reporter (now an editor elsewhere) on the day he dropped a tab in the P-I newsroom: "It backfired, man. There were two city editors giving me twice as much shit!"