Jerry’s Ink: Did You Ever Smoke Grass? No? You’re Probably Lying



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It’s coming and no one—not even the federal government—can stop it. In our lifetime, marijuana, AKA grass, weed, pot, reefer, dope, ganja, Mary Jane, herb, whatever you call it, will be legalized. Possession of less than an ounce of marijuana will be decriminalized. As of today, marijuana is legal in Colorado and Washington.

As of now, 18 states (including New Jersey) plus Washington, D.C., have already enacted laws to legalize medical marijuana. And that’s good. In the case of New Jersey, this might pose a problem because if Jersey’s wonderful governor, the brilliant, tragically overweight Chris Christie, ever takes a toke of grass he will get the out-of-control “fat man munchies” and wind up eating Trenton.

Over the years pot has been the source of so much lying and denying. In a survey a few years ago, just one-third of adult Americans said they had smoked pot. This leads me to believe that all but a small number of the two-thirds who said they have never smoked pot in their lives were lying either to themselves or to us.

New York mayors Bloomberg and Koch admitted they smoked grass. I will bet every one of the Supreme Court justices have smoked pot at one point in their lifetime, although the thought of seeing Ruth Bader Ginsberg stoned makes me nauseous.

What’s more, our past three presidents smoked pot. President Bill Clinton smoked grass. (He lied and said he didn’t inhale.) President George W. Bush did it too. (He wouldn’t talk about it but his drug use was legendary when he attended Yale.) President Barry Obama smoked grass in Hawaii and that didn’t hurt him, did it? (Tee-hee!)

The fact is, if you were alive in 1960s and ’70s and ’80s, you smoked. I didn’t know anyone who didn’t experiment with pot at least once. You couldn’t walk a single NYC street in the summer without getting a whiff of the sweet pungent smell of cannabis.

Pot smokers in those days, for the most part, were a docile, giddy, rock ‘n’ roll-loving, happy-go-lucky lot who only posed a danger to the ingredients of their refrigerators. It was a wonderful time. Sadly, it ended. Those long-haired pony-tailed kids cut their hair, cleaned up their act, and became corporate leaders, doctors, priests, teachers, etc. Perhaps smoking dope had indeed robbed them of their memory, because no sooner had many of these pot smokers quit smoking pot than they joined the establishment and immediately denied ever taking a toke and set out to make life miserable for anyone caught with a joint.

Sadly, at one point, nearly 1,000 people a week in the United States were being arrested, doing jail time, winding up with a record, losing out on college scholarships, and getting kicked out of schools for doing what those who were prosecuting them did when they were young. When marijuana becomes legal, it’s important that parents talk to their children about the drug. Talk to them the same way you should talk to them about liquor and cigarettes, which, in the long run, are far more dangerous than grass will ever be. Don’t wait to talk about it until your kids are 15 or 16 years old because the chances are, by that time, they have already experimented with grass and your input will be wasted.

There is one part of the marijuana controversy that still enrages me. It is clear that marijuana can be of great help to those poor souls suffering from cancer who are undergoing chemotherapy. Cannabis helps them deal with the nausea and horrible sickness that is part of the treatment. Withholding marijuana from these people for so many years is the real crime. Those holier-than-thou people who constantly refused to allow timid politicians to legalize marijuana for medical use should, frankly, burn in hell.

A few years ago my late friend Joel Siegel was stricken with colon cancer and took his first chemo treatment. He called me and told me he had never felt so sick in his entire life. He said he heard that marijuana could ease his suffering. Could I find some? I told him I would make some calls. A few hours later I showed up at his door with five joints. I rang the bell. He answered the door. I held out the five joints in my hands and said, “The first five are free, but when you become a wild-eyed drooling addict, I’m going to charge you big money.”

We both laughed. He later told me he took three puffs and he realized he would be able to bear the ordeal.

Marijuana will soon be legal for all. It’s about time.

It’s coming and no one—not even the federal government—can stop it. In our lifetime, marijuana, AKA grass, weed, pot, reefer, dope, ganja, Mary Jane, herb, whatever you call it, will be legalized. Possession of less than an ounce of marijuana will be decriminalized. As of today, marijuana is legal in Colorado and Washington.
As of now, 18 states (including New Jersey) plus Washington, D.C., have already enacted laws to legalize medical marijuana. And that’s good. In the case of New Jersey, this might pose a problem because if Jersey’s wonderful governor, the brilliant, tragically overweight Chris Christie, ever takes a toke of grass he will get the out-of-control “fat man munchies” and wind up eating Trenton.
Over the years pot has been the source of so much lying and denying. In a survey a few years ago, just one-third of adult Americans said they had smoked pot. This leads me to believe that all but a small number of the two-thirds who said they have never smoked pot in their lives were lying either to themselves or to us.
New York mayors Bloomberg and Koch admitted they smoked grass. I will bet every one of the Supreme Court justices have smoked pot at one point in their lifetime, although the thought of seeing Ruth Bader Ginsberg stoned makes me nauseous.
What’s more, our past three presidents smoked pot. President Bill Clinton smoked grass. (He lied and said he didn’t inhale.) President George W. Bush did it too. (He wouldn’t talk about it but his drug use was legendary when he attended Yale.) President Barry Obama smoked grass in Hawaii and that didn’t hurt him, did it? (Tee-hee!)
The fact is, if you were alive in 1960s and ’70s and ’80s, you smoked. I didn’t know anyone who didn’t experiment with pot at least once. You couldn’t walk a single NYC street in the summer without getting a whiff of the sweet pungent smell of cannabis.
Pot smokers in those days, for the most part, were a docile, giddy, rock ‘n’ roll-loving, happy-go-lucky lot who only posed a danger to the ingredients of their refrigerators. It was a wonderful time. Sadly, it ended. Those long-haired pony-tailed kids cut their hair, cleaned up their act, and became corporate leaders, doctors, priests, teachers, etc. Perhaps smoking dope had indeed robbed them of their memory, because no sooner had many of these pot smokers quit smoking pot than they joined the establishment and immediately denied ever taking a toke and set out to make life miserable for anyone caught with a joint.
Sadly, at one point, nearly 1,000 people a week in the United States were being arrested, doing jail time, winding up with a record, losing out on college scholarships, and getting kicked out of schools for doing what those who were prosecuting them did when they were young. When marijuana becomes legal, it’s important that parents talk to their children about the drug. Talk to them the same way you should talk to them about liquor and cigarettes, which, in the long run, are far more dangerous than grass will ever be. Don’t wait to talk about it until your kids are 15 or 16 years old because the chances are, by that time, they have already experimented with grass and your input will be wasted.
There is one part of the marijuana controversy that still enrages me. It is clear that marijuana can be of great help to those poor souls suffering from cancer who are undergoing chemotherapy. Cannabis helps them deal with the nausea and horrible sickness that is part of the treatment. Withholding marijuana from these people for so many years is the real crime. Those holier-than-thou people who constantly refused to allow timid politicians to legalize marijuana for medical use should, frankly, burn in hell.
A few years ago my late friend Joel Siegel was stricken with colon cancer and took his first chemo treatment. He called me and told me he had never felt so sick in his entire life. He said he heard that marijuana could ease his suffering. Could I find some? I told him I would make some calls. A few hours later I showed up at his door with five joints. I rang the bell. He answered the door. I held out the five joints in my hands and said, “The first five are free, but when you become a wild-eyed drooling addict, I’m going to charge you big money.”
We both laughed. He later told me he took three puffs and he realized he would be able to bear the ordeal.
Marijuana will soon be legal for all. It’s about time.

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