Marijuana. Pot. Grass. Cannabis. Doobie. Dope. Ganja. Reefer. Weed. Call it whatever you want, it is what it is, and a lot of people out there love it. Whether it's through a pipe, a bowl, a joint, vaporizer, blunt, apple bong, regular bong, eaten as a brownie, a cookie, any other baked good, or sipped as tea, tetrahydrocannabinol-loving people everywhere will find a way to administer the drug.
As for its legalization, California would be the first state, which means that right now, it's illegal in fifty states. Yet, people everywhere still take the drug, in whatever form they wish. So a few more will partake once it's legal, right? So what? I think we need to take into consideration the large number already taking it and realize that there's a great deal of effort employed among all those people finding ways to obtain the drug and then administer it.
To get it means you need a dealer. Who do you go to? What do you pay? How do you go about making the exchange. All these things need to be factored into one or more nights of recreational smoking. Then once you have the tiny packet of cannabis, how do you go about putting it into your body. So much to think about! At this point, I'm thinking, just give it to them. They've put forth enough effort. I almost want to say, "Job well done." They deserve it. For a few puffs there, a few laughs there, and a lot of food consumed after, what's the harm?
California, the state in which marijuana is already sanctioned by the government as long as it's for medicinal purposes, has already made the plunge, even if it is only halfway. Go big or go home, Cali. Just make it fully legal, already. Give all those happy people a reason to really be happy. Enforcement against possession seems to be in vain, regardless of the 847,000 plus marijuana-related arrests made every year. In a state that has 40 million people, most of whom probably use, the number of arrests is a small percentage.
It'll happen sooner or later. California first, then New York, and it'll sweep the nation just like Tickle-Me Elmo. If that's not an irritating toy, I don't know what is, but light up a joint and listen to that fuzzy, red, stooge cackle, you'll no doubt have the time of your life. They didn't call themselves the Doobie Brothers for nothing.
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