Lorre was smiling wide – like the Cheshire cat in Wonderland, pleased as Punch about the success of his rudaralis experiment and the invitation to sample did not go a begging. Earlier that evening I wonder into his garden, lush and verdant after the recent spate of rain. The hounds bound up, snuffling at my pants, not quite sure if I am to be welcomed in or not, but by the time they decide, Lorre is out, his gangly form in a baggy shirt and those insane shorts, on the verandah of his hacienda, framed by the columns and silhouetted against the dimly lit background, which makes me flash to a scene out of a David Lynch film. After the usual effusive greetings take place and we settle into a comfy space, Lorre turns on one of his favourite tracks and the ritual begins.

Saaay maaan, dis shuuure taste good. Skunky rudaralis have dat special flavor an dat special zing dat make dat tetrahydracannabinol buzz go direct to dose sensors activated by da hypothalamus – get dat serotonin activated but good to open up dem doors of perception, like dat cat Aldous Huxley be on bout. 


Lorre isn’t interested in all Java’s technical jargon, quite content to let the chemical process do its thing and let the effects ‘speak for themselves’ as it were. Marianne Faithful is coming through the doorway singing about the son of a preacher man – one of Lorre’s old faves and a standard if he has anything to do with the music at a party.   The quintessential hip cat, is Lorre – almost a throwback to another generation. His trip has more to do with love and peace and music and good times and simply ‘being’ than other matters that most folk lay greater emphasis on. He’s also into designer clothes, hip magazines, and conceptual artwork. The latter mostly when he ‘worked’ for agencies that put a heavier price on his talent than they did about his attendance or eccentricities. He is also one of the kindest and least offensive folk around and will often go through all sorts of hassles to provide solace for needy friends and even acquaintances when they feel low and need a consciousness-boost. In his school days, Lorre was one of the most promising athletes in the country, breaking the national record for the 110 meters hurdles when he was just sixteen years old – a record that was to stand for fifteen years or more. But for many years since then, his stamina had more to do with lasting the partying that went on, sometimes continuously for days on end.  

The music fades and Lorre gets up to change the selection. He picks Marvin Gaye doing ‘What’s going on’ to begin the set and predictably, the tunes to follow will be a mystery until heard, but you could bet it will be an eclectic selection that is bound to satisfy whoever it is that is with him. He has this knack of picking what his friends like to hear – a wonderful talent, particularly if one is fussy about that sort of thing.   

Lissenup maaan, know dose seeds – from China, you say dey be – yo give me som time back? Dey turn out to be dwarf rudaralis maaan and dey growto be reeealy fine-ass sheeet – jus like yo say. But dese here plants, tho yo say dey be from da same stock, dey look a whole lot differen. Mus be da climate and da soil maaan. 

Java is into the nitty-gritty aspects of the organic cultivation of herbs and so describes his whole trip with the seeds Lorre turned him on to. Lorre, eager to learn the fine art, is all ears – particularly since his recent rudaralis experiment, which has biased him considerably against the more familiar strains of sativa and indica. Smells so much nicer, he says, and much better effect – in a word, ‘ultra’ – one of his best loved expressions to describe the best. It’s the same word he uses to describe Jeronimo – one of the performers high on his scale of favourite artistes. And as a token of their long-standing friendship and the affection Jeronimo has for Lorre, he wrote a song for him called ‘The boy can’t help himself’ and it goes like this… at least the rap part of it does (we shall get the lyrics in their entirety later – when Jeronimo remembers it all!) 

It’s hideous, it’s horrid, it’s ultimate, it’s pro
A sick scene, a cool scene, its dressing up to show
It’s Rayban or it’s Bolle, Persol, or it’s Marnet
It’s GQ, Interview, Arena, Face and detail
It’s water on the body, put shorts and get ready
It’s def, it’s cool, it’s “vut is it now men Teddy?”
It’s stretching, it’s fidgetting, it’s lounging and reclining
It’s harsh on the body and it’s ultimate in timing…
the boy can’t help himself

Couldn’t have been better put – believe you me!