Forgive me if my typing's a little off- I still have a headache from last night. It's not exactly a hangover (I only had one beer), and I didn't miss my caffeine. No, we're thinking it's from something a little more potent. Last night we went to a concert in San Francisco. And what a cultural experience it was to observe... Scratch the photo on your screen to the right and take a whiff. Yup, that's the smell of a crap-ton of marijuana.
Now, we're not perfectly straight-laced people- we've been to Ben Harper and Ziggy Marley concerts. Heck, in 10th grade James came home one night reeking from the fumes of an ocean of people and drugs on the floor level at a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert.
Back East you might go to a venue where thousands of people are jammed shoulder to shoulder, pods of whom you might observe sneaking hits from a joint once in a while. You'd have to look really hard to figure out where that funky smell of BO and dog shit was coming from... the BO usually gave a hint as to what kind of person to look for.
Here though, it's a big g-dam hippie-puff-n-pass fest. You'd think they were selling the stuff in cartons from behind the counter at Walmart.
And that's probably not to0 far down the road... Only in California can you legally get yourself "prescribed psychedelics" from the back of a street paper. "Bunyons bothering you? Toke a bowl! Having trouble breathing? Get high! Call a therapeutic consultant! Over 80 varieties! Operators are standing by!"
Not that there's anything wrong with it, but some people who go to concerts aren't into veggie shakes, tofurkey, and weed, and they don't necessarily want to have an ethereal experience while getting their cancer.
We prefer to get our cancer from good, old-fashioned char-broiled beef and pork. At least BBQ doesn't smell like poo. And, last I checked there was a public smoking ban in this state. So, to all you tofurkey-tokers, save it for the commune.
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