“So I’m totally like going to write about a thousand words about pot, man. Because, dude, it’s like totally going to be 4-20 this month, you know?” How stupid do those first two sentences sound? That was my stoner alter-ego talking. His name is Brodie Hammers and he used to write the skateboarding section for SLUG. Brodie still comes around in my life about every other night or so (for legal purposes, I, Mike Brown, do not smoke pot. But my alter ego, Brodie Hammers, pulls tubes like it was oxygen. So any reefer reference in this article has to do with him, not me, got that, legal eagles?).
Anyway, I have a little theory about why pot is still illegal in this country and it doesn’t have to do with the drug war or CIA conspiracies or the economic value of keeping something so easily produced, like a plant, illegal.
I think weed will still get you on the wrong side of John Q. Law because stupid stoners still treat it themselves as an illicit substance. Have you ever noticed how stupid stoners act most of the time? They make such a big deal out of smoking weed. Therefore, so do cops.
The fact that stupid stoners make such a big deal out of weed is the whole foundation to my “why pot is still illegal” theory. Unless you are fourteen and puffing a poorly rolled spliff under the bleachers, pot is no big deal. Grow up already, stoners.
To me, I mean to Brodie, pot is like coffee. I drink too much Maxell House and I get a little jittery and I have to pee. I smoke too much weed and I might get a tad bit paranoid and have to take a nap, but that’s about it. So what’s with all the seriousness about it?
I don’t have a bumper sticker on my piece of shit ‘94 Corolla that professes to all other drivers that I like a cup of coffee every day. So why would I advertise to the world that I know, I mean Brodie knows, how to roll a decent blunt? Brodie Hammers can also make a decent Martini and a mean Americano, but I’ve never found a bumper sticker or refrigerator magnet that could reinforce those talents.
It makes me believe that pot could quite possibly still be illegal just to keep the marijuana marketing geniuses in business. If pot was treated like coffee, the brainiacs behind, “its 4:19, got a minute?” might have to go back to their original origins of employment at your friendly 7-11. Don’t those guys know that 4-20 also represents the Columbine massacre and Hitler’s birthday? So if you want to be a complete fuckface and celebrate that shit be my guest, it’s still (kind of) a free country. Besides, if you’ve read some of my earlier articles, you know that one of my biggest pet peeves is when a holiday insists you get wasted. I’ll get wasted on my own schedule, thank you very much. I don’t need a certain day of the month or time in the afternoon dictating when I bong rip. I get fucked up on a holiday called Tuesdays, yo.
The origins of my theory of pot being illegal because we treat it so serious goes back to high school. Brodie smoked a shit ton of dirt weed in high school. Dirt weed had tons of seeds and stems and rumor had it that it would render you sterile, but as far as making you glossy eyed, it would get the job done.
I remember smo... I mean, Brodie remembers smoking weed between every period of a new semester so my teachers would think that he was normally this stupid. That’s the kind of logic Brodie had in high school. In fifth period health class of my sophomore year, I sat by this tall gangster kid named Shawn. Even though I was a skater by school politic standards and Shawn was a G, we were still down with each other pretty much all because of weed. My high school social landscape was fertilized with buds in such a manner. Even cowboys were cool with all the kids wise to the ways of self-medication, because cowboys had the best mushrooms -- probably since they were around cow shit all the time.
Any-who, Shawn was the first person I ever met who truly didn’t give a shit about the “cool” factor smoking weed could get you in high school; he just liked getting lifted. His simple mind didn’t compute the fact that weed was illegal, probably because he didn’t give a shit about the law either. And he was really tall.
He would reinforce his reckless abandonment for the law and all of life’s little bullshit politics by doing things like smoking me and my friends out in a van in front of the principal’s office, only to let us know that the van was stolen. He’d tell us this after the joint had made its way counterclockwise between me and my buddies a couple times. He liked seeing who he could freak out and who could hang.
But the one thing that resonated with Brodie the most (pun intended) was in that fifth period health class. Health class was so funny in high school. They would basically try to scare you out of doing all the shit you were already doing and didn’t give a fuck about anyway, like drugs. It was a complete joke.
One day during drug week, which all the stoner kids found exceptionally funny, I was sitting next to Shawn, not in the back of the room but more in the middle, and he did something really fucking cool.
Shawn said, “Hey Brodie check this out,” and plopped an OZ bag of weed on his desk in front of everybody. I looked at him like he was crazy, and he just looked back at me and chuckled. As casual as could be, he said, “What’s with that look? No one sitting by us has ever seen this and why would they care?” He left the bag on his desk for about 10 minutes straight to prove his point. All the goody-goodies we sat by really didn’t know what weed looked like and really didn’t give a fuck. Maybe that’s just a “Utah thing” but the moral of this experience is still with me today.
Weed is no big deal, not to Shawn, me or Brodie. Never has been and never will be. Some people drink too much coffee and some people smoke too much weed. Stop being stupid about it and maybe weed won’t be illegal forever. Fucking hippie.
P.S. What’s red and yellow and looks great on a hippie?