Prioritize Solving the Problems with Legalized Marijuana. I voted to legalize marijuana in Washington hoping people disproportionally jailed would regain civil liberties, judicial expenses would be better spent, and organized crime would lose money as the state gains revenue. None of those is a direct benefit to me, so the victory is the same feeling I get from an Imodium: relief. I know difficult problems will follow, and they’re more personally threatening.
Polls in Colorado show youth increasingly believe marijuana is harmless. I don’t want my grandchildren believing it’s harmless as they age from 11 to 25 over the next 14 years. The State Liquor Control Board and the research consortium funded by legalization insist marijuana at that age “Is devastating on youth, affecting academics, health and reasoning.” The increased presence of marijuana puts youth at risk of consuming it without realizing it or having lawbreakers slip more dangerous substances into smoked or consumed cannabis.
If my grandkids end up caught with small amounts they’ll go to court for possession of an illegal Schedule 1 controlled substance under federal law. They could get fired by an employer with zero-tolerance for substance abuse.
I have no joy knowing more drivers on the road and bike riders on the Loop Trail will be under the influence of a substance that irrefutably impairs their thinking, causes a loss of balance, decreases concentration, impairs ability to perform, decreases alertness and decreases reaction time. Of course I’m ignoring the societal benefits legal users have from their substance induced highs, but they’re supposed to be enjoying them inside.
We’re undertaking a dangerous major social experiment and it’s too early to justify nationwide legalization. Those of you in the business of marketing legalized marijuana, please focus on reducing teen use and avoiding risks to non-users. Make your public presence known for your effectiveness in solving the public health and safety problems legalization has caused.
Those palliatives would at least bring me relief.
Joining a Golf Foursome. My friends who play golf must be the most forgiving in the world. They’ve encouraged me to join them even though they’ve seen shoot my average of 137 compared to their scores well below 100. I flub two more shots per hole than they hit.
Once I dribbled a tee-shot well short of the ladies’ tee with newly-met partners. One partner approaching the tee asked, “How’d you do?” “Straight down the middle,” I said. “Hey, it looks like you made a first down,” he said.
Another told us we were the most pleasant golfers he’d played with.
That compliment is the personal highlight of my golfing experiences.
I’m uncomfortable turning down friends’ invitations so I’ve prepared a proposal in case they ask.
I will join their foursome and bring my clubs to look official, but I won’t hit any of my balls. They would take turns playing my ball, six holes for each of them. They would split my greens fee and I’ll supply the balls from the errant balls I find as I walk past the golf course every week.
The worst tee-shot of the threesome would have first option to play my ball, as long as they each play six holes. They could choose which ball to substitute for their first drive. They could improve their average if they pick the best ball, or increase their handicap if they pick the worst ball.
They’d have a fourth and hit more balls. Plus, their threesome would avoid the risk of a Club Pro assigning them an unwelcome fourth, such as I. I’d be with friends, use my idle clubs and distribute the balls I’m collecting. I could feel useful searching for lost balls.
I feel prepared for an invitation, although it’s been a long time since I’ve had one.