Thursday, August 13, 2015

Aging pothead meets "new" pot

There's a story in lamestream Canadian media today about how Big Steve's re-election campaign is skewing science to justify their rabid anti-marijuana campaign.

Yes, the Harperite fight on drug use is oh-so-very-1955.

To qualify as a Harper candidate you were forced to watch Reefer Madness back to back three times and then write a policy paper outlining how you would handle the drug scourge.

One thing I can agree with the Harperites on is that today's marijuana is not your grand-daddy's marijuana.

I found that out a few years ago.

I'm old enough to be your grampa, and I still like to twist one up now and then, so listen here;

I'd just burned one with the national sales manager of a major foreign car manufacturer. The national sales manager was a really good guy to know because he could get you a great deal on a prestige car brand. He smoked this shit every day.

Shortly after burning that one, the family gathered for pictures with the dude of honour at that get together. The occasion was the 70th birthday of said sales manager's daddy.

I was there, in a million dollar townhouse a few steps from Bloor and Bay, which is probably a three million dollar townhouse today, smoking a joint with the national sales manager for a foreign car company that I will not name.

Right after we burned that doobie, somebody got the clan together for a family portrait with the birthday boy.

I'm in those family portraits, casually leaning back against the fireplace mantle, just to the right of the birthday boy.

Half an hour after that, I was still leaning back against the fireplace mantle.

I'd smoked a modern joint, and I was fucked!

I could not move!

I'd been puffing on the weed of wisdom for forty years before that day happened... but I'd never encountered that paralyzing boogie...

Ya, the "new" pot isn't what Willie Nelson grew up on...

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