Several years ago, I had the opportunity to visit a legal cannabis dispensary for the first time ever in my life. As soon as I landed in Seattle and settled in, I made a beeline to a dispensary I had looked up, still not quite believing such a place was real or would take me. I saw the unassuming green cross beckoning from the street, and I made my way up to a little building perched on a hill. I showed someone my driver’s license and in those few seconds while they looked it over, I thought for sure I’d be denied, because no way was I about to buy weed legally, in this country, in my lifetime. And then the door opened for me. This particular shop was quite small, but clean and organized, a single room displaying various types of flowers, pre-rolled joints, edibles, tinctures, and paraphernalia. The shopkeep was helpful but not overbearing, offering his insight on all of the different strains available. I can tell you now with little exaggeration that I could hear church bells ringing loudly in my head, and I was damn near brought to tears. There I was, well into my 30s, a somewhat secretive toker, crossing a rubicon from the shadowy world of illegal narcotics and into the light of the promised land, where this magnificent plant—which has followed humanity like a trusty dog from as far back as history has been recorded, ocean to ocean—was finally getting some respect in this country.
You see, dear readers, I need to come clean about something: I am (and have pretty much always been) what friends and enemies alike of the “sweet leaf” like to call a “pothead.” Now, some of you are probably guffawing, like “Dan, c’mon. That’s stupid. That’s hardly a big deal. Everyone smokes weed. You’re dumb.” And I understand; pot has been imbedded in our culture’s fabric for… pretty much ever. Potheads take many forms in our society, from diehard Trumpsters to the most radicalized Antifa warrior, from baby boomers to millenials. But if you’re like me and you grew up with Nancy Reagan and her ilk fabricating fear and terror around “drugs,” and possibly a wonderful but straight-laced, pro-military family who largely bought into these myths, you might understand that it’s been hard for me to be frank or open about this part of my life. Even with the tide turning and more and more states legalizing weed, we still live in a country where pot is classified as a Schedule I substance by the DEA, i.e. “no currently accepted medical use.” As it’s becoming more and more clear, this is (and has always been) a bald-faced lie, to which everyone from cancer patients to addicts, chronic pain sufferers, and those with an infinite list of ailments can attest.
More recently, I was able to make it to Denver, where I got to visit a few more legal dispensaries, which ranged from a dingy basement office to something more resembling an Apple store. This time, of course, the church bells rang a little quieter, but the vibe was the same. And let me tell you, there appears to be a ROARING economy in Colorado—“cranes in the sky” as we like to say down here (but hardly ever see). For example, at one dispensary I spent about $125, $25 of which went to city and state coffers—an amount I was more than happy to fork over. For that price–even with the 20% tax—I was able to buy more and better quality product than the black market has ever provided (they even tell you the makeup of the soil the bud was grown in, as well as the THC and CBD ratios, and really, anything else you want to know about where it came from).
There is still a long way to go. The War on Drugs, from its inception, was launched to create a class of criminal where none existed, namely in communities of color, as well as political dissidents. We have lost entire generations to this cruel and wasteful war, which many of our lawmakers still blindly advocate for and benefit from. The discussion around legalizing and/or decriminalizing cannabis (and every other “drug”) must address this gross injustice. And pot is not perfect. It works for a hell of a lot of people, but not everyone. Like anything else—alcohol, video poker, the “buy now” button—pot can be abused, and the American medical community has a lotof catching up to do in researching what this ancient plant can and cannot provide for people’s health and wellbeing. Like so many other issues surrounding pot and other illegal substances, we are only now beginning to dispel all of the myths, lies, and narrow interests of those who’ve benefited from its prohibition all these years. It is my sincere hope that the lawmakers of Louisiana will see the light, and see it soon. Because one thing has been made clear to me: between pot’s ubiquity among all classes and cultures, its medicinal (and recreational) properties, economic clout, and—most importantly—the potential for restorative justice that should come from full decriminalization, it’s us potheads who are going to save this country. —Dan Fox
