It’s a controversial subject but one worth tackling.
As the countdown begins to my holiday visit in the land of ‘free money’ and decriminalized marijuana, or milk and honey to some, high anxiety begins to set in, my voice is a constant hi doh and I am pretty much at fever pitch all round.
Five days to go.
I am not looking forward to the everyday potential bombs and suicides on the underground train system, nor the sight of city streets lined with what the Brits call free loaders; Thousands of predominantly Eastern European women with drugged children begging for money.
What will be enjoyable, however, is the British attitude towards marijuana. Even though I won’t be partaking myself, it will be refreshing to witness the freedom of the general populous wafting by me with ‘spliff’ in hand.
I am also looking forward to the cameras everywhere, there is much less need to be concerned about predators because of them. It is a whole different sort of freedom which probably sounds quite bizarre here in the hills of quiet bomb free Northeast Iowa.
Just like the rest of the West there are hundreds of thousands of people in the US using marijuana, growing it, medicating with it, selling it and some are probably enjoying it. The problem with that for the rest of the West is the ‘selling it’ part. The problem with that for the US, is all of it.
My problem with the US attitude towards marijuana is that it glamorizes it and in doing so makes it attractive to the youth.
Dare I mention the recent incident with MFL MarMac School, Monona, Iowa, 9th graders being caught with the residue of it on their clothes at school.
The answer in my experience and perhaps not so humble opinion is to decriminalize it, make it illegal to sell it but not to use it, that removes those from the equation that would profit from someone else’s possible misery and at the same time makes it less tantalizing to those still starry-eyed youngsters.
It would also make it available to those who prefer to medicate with nonprescription pain relievers that they can grow themselves.
It may take another thirty years but eventually it will likely be decriminalized in the US too. Over the past ten years that I have lived in the US I have become an anxiety ridden mess. I can remember my husband freaking out as I openly passed a can of beer to him in Arizona. I just didn’t get it.
I do now, but I am completely paranoid. It is hysterically funny really, because I don’t do anything wrong, yet I hate being followed by a police car. The only times I have had any contact with officers on the road is when they have been there to rescue a damsel in distress; I must have a guilty conscience from all those years of free living in the UK, when I dabbled and like US politicians didn’t inhale.
Those halcyon days when I would take off on a journey and halfway there would have forgotten where I was going.
It will be hard to continue being an American when I go back to the old country to visit what is left of my family. I will have to stick close by my hypochondriac sister, Denise, who judging by her stance on marijuana, should really live here.
Her husband, Ronnie, a hard-working carpenter just finished paying off their half a million dollar house, bought another house for my cousin to live in and paid for my ticket, despite being a ‘smoker.’
My sister makes him smoke in the garage but she is convinced that the fumes permeate through the wall.
I figure if I stick close to her, who everyone knows to be staunchly against ‘puff’ the magic dragon, I should be pretty safe. The rest of the time that I will be surrounded by the green demon – I just won’t inhale.