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Got Weed?
Let’s Legalize It!
I came of age in the 60s, when everyone smoked pot. Plenty of my friends arrived at high school high each day. So did several of my teachers. (I knew kids who smoked pot every day with their teachers.)
I was never a pothead, but if a joint was going around I wouldn’t turn it down. I continued to toke through college and law school. But when I got married and got pregnant, I stopped. During the years I was raising my son, I didn’t touch pot.
Pot spaces me out; to take care of a toddler you need lightning-fast reflexes and a clear head.
The other moms in my circle seemed to agree. We never passed a joint around while watching our kids at the local playground — and nobody ever brought a bong to Sally’s Music Circle.
When my son reached high school, I didn’t smoke pot because I didn’t want to be a hypocrite. How could I tell my kid to avoid the stuff if I was getting high myself?
Now that my son is all grown up and living in California, the only good reason not to smoke pot is that it isn’t legal where I live.
Sometimes I smoke it anyway.
I’m not alone.
The suburb I live in is full of criminals — ordinary middle-class folks like me, with jobs and homes and kids, who pay their taxes and obey the…
