Aug 03 2006

In a Sane World

Posted by J. Craig Canada in Alabama, dennis peron, greenway, Medical Marijuana, missions

Well, it’s payday.

I got my disability benefit today after being broke for a week.

The way things are going, and after everything I’ve been through I figured why postpone the inevitable. And spent my time in coffee shops and cafes, and the money I didn’t spend on that I spent on cigarettes and medicine. Or weed. Or cannabis. Or marijuana. Or whatever you want to call it.

And ended up broke, in hock up to my neck, and suffering.

I overdrew my checking $1.22. Which cost me $20 or so.

And ate at St. Francisc and Elm Street.

There’s been a lot of violence in town the past couple of weeks, and as the bus pulled into town (after I’d been to Greenway and subsequently medicated – as surreptitiously as I could) – as the bus pulled into town I found myself thinking, “Well, yes, but it’s a resort-town. A resort town in season…”

And I found myself remembering the times I spent as a child with my parents in Panama City, Pensacola, and (once) Lauderdale.

Fact is, a couple of years we spent nearly half the summer at the beach. And I got so sick of it I complained that we never went to the mountains (like my friends) or anywhere else (like Disneyland) but always to the beach.

My parents loved the beach. They were both considered very attractive and loved to tan and show off their bodies. And play the dogs at night.

I remember spending hours in arcades playing pin-ball. Days at the beach with my parents. Some nights we’d play carpet-golf with another couple (friends of my parents) and their children. I remember one very interesting baby-sitter (while my parents were playing the dogs). For one thing, I could tell at a glance she was an intelligent person. And she didn’t talk down to me. She told me her husband had a patent that enabled RCA to sell color television.

And I remember the dances on the beach, where the teenagers played the juke-box and danced for hours after sunset. And one particular summer when Brenda Lee’s “I’m Sorry” was a big hit.

And while Pensacola and Panama City were pretty quiet as beaches went, it was expected that there would be the kind of violence Santa Cruz seems to be freaking out over in places like Lauderdale (during spring break, particularly), and the more popular southern beaches. And, of course, Miami.

I have issues with my mother, my parents, and left home because of them. But today I had a good memory.

I spent a lot of time at the beach with my parents, and we had good times.

I remembered this on the way back from Greenway, where I purchased a quarter-ounce of medicine and had a satisfactory discussion about getting a discount. I’d complained about it (the discount) in public, on the local newspaper’s forum, because for the past 8 times I’d been there I hadn’t been given a discount…

…well, the long and short of it is that everyone was civil, and polite. Proof of income was requested, which I replied that I had on my computer, my social security deposits. Well, they wanted a piece of paper, my benefit amount statement, which I have in my baggage, with Jim. Hopefully, today or before I go back, I can go through my two backpacks of mail and find it. I believe it takes at least 30 days to get one by mail.

A 25% discount was what I was told I would get, which doesn’t really make me happy. But can I complain? I did say that I require about an ounce a week. And that I couldn’t afford to buy an ounce at one time. Which seemed to not have any impact.

But anyway, I did make a purchase, and feel much better after medicating.

Passing The Concentration Camp on the way back from Greenway, and thinking about the violence, I found myself thinking…

In a sane world, The Concentration Camp would truly be a homeless services center. And one of the conditions for services would be to not use any drugs but cannabis, unless absolutely medically necessary.

I spoke to another veteran heroin addict the other day. In a program. He said he got started on morpheme after being wounded. Had something like 30-days clean.

When he told me he was clean I asked him for what. And then how he got started. It was the same story I’ve heard so many times. Prescribed morpheme or an opiate for pain, got hooked.

I asked him if he’d ever tried using marijuana for this pain and he replied yes, he had. And again it was the same story, marijuana works better for pain than morpheme or the opiates.

In a sane world, places like the concentration camp would give their clients all the cannabis they wanted, so long as it was the only drug that wasn’t absolutely medically necessary they used.

Testing would still be necessary to determine if anti-social behavior was drug-induced or systemic.

But wouldn’t that reduce the violence?

I remember today that when my mother came to San Francisco to testify on my behalf when I was on trial for two felonies for sales and possession for sales of marijuana, that Dennis had a press conference where he stated he hoped to make marijuana cheaper than speed. The statement was printed in The Chronicle.

And I remember my (sometimes) idyllic youth, an innocence lost and a world become violent, and I think…in a sane world cities would have municipal medicine gardens, devoted mostly to cannabis, to supply the indigent.

I cannot imagine the kind of violence we’ve had here, for the past several weeks, in such a sane world – one where alcohol and speed and crack and heroin and oxycontin and prozac and paxil and all the rest of that junk were ‘displaced’ by cannabis.

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