Duude

Izzit just me, or has the zeitgeist shifted of late to swing around full-circle back to the mid-1970s or so—at least when it comes to the topic of tetrahydrocannabinol—such that everywhere you look now, it seems like dope is dope once again, only this time, at least, unlike back thirty years or so, you don’t have to wear bell-bottoms to smoke it, thankfully.

I mean, you’ve got the brand-new “stoner comedy” Pineapple Express that’s just come out (can’t wait to see it, but probably will, for the DVD); Cheech and fucking Chong, putting aside their long-term creative difference, are firing up the bong for a reunion tour; the New Yorker publishes a 3000-word essay about pot-growers in California; and even politicians are getting into the act, with Congressman Barney Frank holding a press conference to discuss legislation removing criminal penalties for marijuana for personal use.

Sweet!

Maybe the sea-change that I expected all through tenth and eleventh grade is finally coming about and I’ll live to see the day where I don’t have to be a criminal to engage in what seems to me to be a relatively benign practice of cognitive freedom.

On the other hand, I’m sure I’ll also complain about the “good old days” if pot goes totally mainstream. The day you can get a Vente hit of freshly-dried kush to go with your Frappaccino at Starbucks is the day I switch completely over to whiskey…or maybe not, at least if I can get the same thing at Stumptown, dried locally.

I do think, by the way, that if I were Howard Schulz, I’d be all over legalization. Seems to me that Starbucks has everything in place to be a major retailer of cannabis should the laws ever change. They’ve got the stores, the distribution network, the warehouses to store organic material, and plenty of baristas who know lots about the product.

They’ll just have to upgrade their pastries, though; that’s a must.