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Bog Walk buying ganja

Official websites use. Share sensitive information only on official, secure websites. Corresponding author. Cannabis use is becoming more accepted in mainstream society. We present selected findings from our qualitative study of Baby Boomer born — cannabis users in the San Francisco Bay Area. Data collection consisted of a recorded, in-depth life history interview followed by a questionnaire and health survey. Interviewees made harm reduction choices based on preferred cannabis derivatives and routes of administration, as well as why, when, where, and with whom to use. Most interviewees minimized cannabis-related harms so they could maintain social functioning in their everyday lives. Responsible and controlled use was described as moderation of quantity and frequency of cannabis used, using in appropriate settings, and respect for non-users. Users contributed to the normalization of cannabis use through normification. Users contributed to cannabis normalization through their harm reduction methods. These cultural practices may prove to be more effective than formal legal prohibitions in reducing cannabis-related harms. Findings also suggest that users with access to a regulated market medical cannabis dispensaries were better equipped to practice harm reduction. More research is needed on both cannabis culture and alternative routes of administration as harm reduction methods. Keywords: Cannabis, marijuana, older drug users, risk, harm reduction, normalization. As suggested by opinion polls and public forums, an increase in cultural acceptance and support for legislative reform are other indicators that cannabis use is moving from the margins to the mainstream Parker, Current rates of illicit drug use among U. Others find that cannabis has become part of mainstream culture for youth and otherwise conforming adults who do not abandon its use when more mature roles and responsibilities are assumed Hathaway, ; Hathaway, ; Hathaway et al. As cannabis use is normalized in society, it becomes more important to understand how to reduce both short- and long-term harms associated with its use. Harm reduction is a set of strategies that aim to minimize problems associated with drug use, while recognizing that for some users abstinence may be neither a realistic, nor a desirable goal. We extend the definition to include the different derivatives of cannabis flowers, edibles, concentrates , as well as routes of administration smoking, eating, vaporizing. Some harm reduction techniques related to smoke inhalation include: using cannabis strains with a high THC 1 content, refraining from using cannabis with tobacco or other dried herbs, using cannabis that is free of contaminants and adulterants, omission of the Valsalva maneuver 2 and prolonged breath holding, and the use of alternative delivery systems such as pipes, vaporizers, and oral preparations Grotenhermen, However, Gieringer found that the use of water pipes produced a higher ratio of tars per cannabinoids than joints because water also filters out THC. Water pipes may be counterproductive in reducing tars from cannabis smoking because the reduced THC content could motivate users to smoke more cannabis than they would with other routes of administration. While there has been limited research on vaporizing cannabis, studies indicate vaporization is a safe and effective mode of THC delivery Abrams et al. Use of alternative delivery systems constitute practical harm reduction techniques that give users control over the drug. Setting refers to the physical and social context in which cannabis use takes place, and how these change over time. The physical setting comprises places, people, and things present during use. The social context of cannabis use includes broader macro social and political contexts in which individuals use cannabis. Zinberg argues that the development of sanctions values and rules of conduct and rituals patterns of behaviour bring the use of drugs under control. Social sanctions define whether and how a particular drug should be used, and can be informal or formal laws and policies. Rituals, developed to support sanctions for cannabis use, include methods of procuring and administering the drug, selection of the physical and social setting for use, activities undertaken after use, and ways of preventing problematic effects Zinberg, A sense of normalcy is preserved by avoiding attributions and behaviours seen as risky Hathaway, ; Hathaway et al. Even those who use cannabis medicinally are not left unscathed. Other studies found that while cannabis use was not considered a high priority offense, a fear of potential arrest remained Hathaway et al. However, fear of formal punishment was considered a less direct threat to users than the prospect of disclosure, status loss, or social stigma Johnson et al. This suggests that it is important to distinguish legal risks from stigmatization when considering cannabis-related harms. In this paper, we examine the interplay of drug, set, and setting in the harm reduction methods of older adult cannabis users. While most studies focus on one dimension of cannabis-related harm, our study design allows us to explore a range of health, legal, and social risks. Past research on cannabis use has been limited primarily to adolescents and young adults, although older adults are occasionally included. We focus strictly on adults born in the Baby Boom generation — , a population that is unique because many have experienced the shift in cannabis use from being associated with a deviant subculture to becoming a more normalized part of society, representing a significant change in set and setting. Since the concept of normalization was initially applied to understand drug use by young Britons, there has been a gap in the literature that examines implications of normalization among older adult drug users in the U. Increased understanding of the experiences of older cannabis users may illuminate the future use patterns and use consequences for young adults who continue to use cannabis into older adulthood. Data collection consisted of an audio-recorded, in-depth life history interview, followed by a questionnaire and health survey. We identified and recruited 97 participants in the San Francisco Bay Area with the help of eight key informants who had participated in previous studies and referred potential participants to project staff. We also posted recruitment advertisements on Craigslist 3. We employed chain-referral sampling by asking participants who completed the interview to refer up to three of their friends who were cannabis users. We limited referrals to three in order to ensure our penetration into various social worlds. Participants were pre-screened to help determine eligibility for enrolment into the study sample. To be included, participants self-identified as current users, born between and , and had used cannabis a minimum of 24 times in the prior six-month period. Medical cannabis patients were included in the sample, but since this was not a study of medicinal cannabis per se, they also must have used for other purposes relaxation, partying and met the minimum number of times used in that manner. We excluded potential participants who self-reported problems with or treatment for alcohol or other drugs in the year prior to the interview to ensure participants were primary cannabis users. The ages ranged from 48 to 68 median One aspect of how users controlled their experience and limited cannabis-related harms is how they used the drug. Study participants learned which cannabis derivative and route of administration were likely to produce the intended effects while posing the least dangerous health risks. He noted that misinformation affected his set and what long-term health-risks he should expect:. Many interviewees agreed that the potency of cannabis had risen since they first started smoking. They felt having access to more potent cannabis made it easier to limit consumption since they did not need to use as much to get the desired effect. While some interviewees considered lung damage a long-term risk of using cannabis, they did not report any cases of severe respiratory problems. However, coughing and increased phlegm were the most frequently cited health harms. Some interviewees voiced concerns about inhaling the chemicals from rolling papers and minimized risks by using thinner papers, avoiding flavoured papers, or avoiding joints altogether. Alternative routes of administration included pipes, water pipes, vaporizers, and edibles. Interviewees who vaporized reported reduced respiratory problems and odour. My husband is also a chronic user…. And he has a lot of breathing problems too. The cost of vaporizers was also cited as a deterrent for some participants. Some interviewees reported using cannabis concentrates to smoke less cannabis, or to replace flowers altogether. These products can be smoked, combined with cannabis in joints and other smoking devices, or vaporized. So in oil I always want to test it, any of those clubs that test it, I go by word of mouth and then texture…. The hot process puts a lot of butane in it. Some interviewees reported smoking too much cannabis and feeling dysphoric. In these situations, users suggested sleeping off the high, eating food, or drinking something like coffee or orange juice. It was more common for participants to report edible overdose, including sleepiness, nausea, heart palpitations, anxiety, paranoia, and hallucinations. A harm reduction method was to learn the dosage necessary to get the expected effect, either through experimentation or procuring labelled edibles. Homemade edibles have varying levels of potency if the ratio of ingredients is not properly measured. Since edibles in medical cannabis dispensaries are labelled with the ingredients, the dosage, and brand names, users get a consistent product. So I have the dosage down…. I ate a half a brownie. Participants recommended a waiting period from 30 minutes to two hours for edibles to take effect. Another aspect of the drug are the different strains of cannabis. Sativa strains produce a mind-effect, comparable to stimulation. Hybrid strains produced by cross-breeding have both indica and sativa properties. Other interviewees were able to name favourite strains e. By understanding what outcomes to expect, some interviewees were able to control the drug by choosing the appropriate strain. Sharon, a 50 year-old caregiver, preferred sativas but her physician suggested she use indicas because it was better for her high blood pressure. Alexandra, a year-old executive assistant, had an experience with indica which led her to favour sativas:. I think it was the indica I was using as well. And you know, decide. Medical cannabis patients had more knowledge about alternative delivery systems. They enjoyed unrestricted access to a wider selection of concentrates and strains, and more information about cannabis than non-patients. You learn! Some dispensaries send their cannabis samples to labs that test for potency, and for contaminants. These types of regulations can give users the necessary information and confidence to control their cannabis use. Managing the drug also involves managing the setting most appropriate for specific types of cannabis, like only smoking indicas at night, and sativas during the day. The indica makes me tired. I just wanna eat, and sleep…. Some participants experienced increased feelings of depression, anxiety, and paranoia when smoking. They noted that they would avoid smoking while depressed, because they feared cannabis would exacerbate depression. If smoking in public, some participants avoided heavily populated areas so they could be discreet. When asked if he ever became paranoid after smoking cannabis, Samuel, a year-old restaurant owner, explained:. Well, maybe when I first started out. You know, that whole people looking at you? Most interviewees avoided anxiety and paranoia by smoking at home in private, and never in the company of strangers. Five participants reported feeling like they had lost control of their cannabis use at some point in their lives. Some users made sure to take a break from cannabis use to lower tolerance and avoid withdrawal symptoms. The majority of participants claimed that withdrawal symptoms were manageable, and they could resist using cannabis. In order to reduce risks of addiction or dependence, participants described managing set and setting by regulating their motivations, and when and where to use. Rick, a year-old IT manager, shared that he made the mistake of wanting to be high for every experience when he was young:. They party with it. Some of my friends get really stupid with it…. Most interviewees had at least a cursory idea of cannabis-related laws, and the majority suggested that policies have relaxed since they were younger. Many were not confident of their understanding of specific restrictions and consequences due to the variations in state, county, and city laws. Participants' perceptions of the punitive consequences for possession of under an ounce ranged from an infraction to a federal offense. A medical cannabis recommendation reduced the anxiety and paranoia that arose from use in public settings. Some reported they felt justified in their overall use of cannabis since their medicinal motivations were legitimized by a doctor. Non-recommended users acknowledged that a recommendation would provide legal protections. Regulatory controls in medical cannabis dispensaries, such as proper labelling of strains and potency, helped users make informed decisions about the type of cannabis to use for desired effects, while minimizing harms. Buying cannabis on the street or from unregulated sources posed health risks such as getting product contaminated with extraneous chemicals, mould, mites, or other drugs. They also risked being robbed. One interviewee experienced a traumatic assault during an underground market transaction, which prompted him to obtain a medical cannabis recommendation. Without other options, users were forced to risk arrest when buying from unregulated sources. Some interviewees expressed desires for medical cannabis because it was considered to be a safer, natural alternative to pharmaceutical drugs. While the majority of interviewees acknowledged that shifting laws and public attitudes indicated a greater acceptance of cannabis use, many felt it was still stigmatized. When asked what precautions they took to avoid discovery of their cannabis use, the top mentions were to smoke privately at home, cover up evidence by washing hands, using eye drops, brushing teeth and chewing gum, and to not talk about cannabis use in front of certain people. Interviewees provided other examples of how they used the drug based on their evaluation of the legal and social harms inherent to specific settings. Some reported eating edibles as an odourless alternative in settings where smoking was inappropriate e. Interviewees engaged in other practices to reduce exposure, including blowing smoke out the window and burning incense to mask the smell. The majority primarily smoked alone or with their spouse or partner. Social use with peers was less common, and many were cautious about smoking with strangers. Weed, man! Many participants agreed that cannabis use had become more accepted. Susan, a year-old call centre manager, explained that the medical cannabis system seemed to contribute to the normalization of use in general:. While participants acknowledged an ongoing normalization process, they described having to navigate settings of both normalized and stigmatized cannabis use. Interviewees described distinct settings where cannabis was either normalized or stigmatized. Participants perceived communities such as political and religious groups to be more disapproving of cannabis. Victor, a year-old who sells cannabis to dispensaries, explained how he avoided stigmatization by filtering his associates. He also legitimized his use by comparing the effects of cannabis to alcohol:. They were people who got high or people who were non-judgmental. In response to stigma, some interviewees attempted to justify their use by obtaining a medical cannabis recommendation, emphasizing self-control, or comparing cannabis to other drugs. For some, cannabis use negatively affected intimate relationships. One method of reducing the risk of rejection was being straight-forward with potential partners, but hiding use from partners also occurred. A medical cannabis card gave Fred the legitimization he needed to advocate for his cannabis use. Secrecy has as much to do with respect for non-users as it does with avoiding law-enforcement and social disapproval Hathaway, ; Erickson, ; Johnson et al. You just smoke it up…. Even myself…. Part of the process of maturation was to become a more responsible, conscientious, and considerate cannabis user. A commonly reported negative consequence of cannabis use is that it can make you tired. So I generally moderate my usage to a certain level. So I smoke maybe two or three times…. That was fun when I was a kid…. Participants determined which setting was most appropriate so as to not interfere with normal daily functioning. Many were careful only to smoke at night, or when they were free of responsibilities. Some relied on controlled use to make sure they fulfilled their obligations. Based on indicators of normalization Aldridge et al. In the Bay Area, cultural acceptability of cannabis use is rooted in its history as a center for the Beat Generation of the s and the social and cultural movements during the s and s. The first public medical cannabis dispensary in the U. Given this background, the location of our study provided an opportunity to study older adult cannabis users in a normalized context. Most participants had a steady supply of cannabis, and the medical cannabis system increased access, availability, and a broader selection of cannabis products. Interviewees also described increasingly tolerant attitudes of cannabis by non-users. Most participants intended to continue using cannabis in the future. There is also evidence of cultural accommodation of cannabis in recent film, TV, and popular music. In the U. Normalization theory was initially focused on youth, but it is useful for comparison with older adult drug users. Among other implications of a changing workforce and associated changes in the school to work transition, youth today have more time for leisure and shape their identities through leisure-time consumption, but with limited resources. In , U. With the prospect of a longer retirement period and no guarantees for retirement benefits or social security, they are left with limited funds and more leisure-time. Choices regarding cannabis use - how, when, and why they use - are shaped by situational and structural life circumstances. Similarly, the constraining influences of work, parenthood, and marriage decrease as Baby Boomers age. As they approach retirement, their children become independent, some get divorced, work and other life circumstances change. As leisure-time increases, cannabis-related social risks decrease due to fewer responsibilities. Even with more freedom to use cannabis, many participants maintained stable, controlled use patterns that consisted of relatively low quantities of consumption. Interviewees emphasized self-control, characterized by moderated use. Both interpretations of moderation were subjective how much is too much? Control is demonstrated to themselves and others by following cultural norms that define appropriate set and settings for cannabis use. Most participants displayed control and minimized risks in order to maintain social functioning in their roles as parents, partners, employees, and members of other groups e. Controlled use also involved being conscientious about motives for use, and many participants explained how they had changed their approach from when they were younger. Drug use is conceptualized as a temporary phase, but our interviewees revealed that individuals can experience maturation even if they continue use in adulthood. Interviewees described maturation in that: they passed through a phase of heavier illicit drug use and a period in which their lifestyles were more immersed in peer-related drug use, and that patterns of cannabis use changed as life circumstances changed. Deviants present themselves in normification by performing the expected normative behaviours that keep social interactions flowing conforming presentation of self as ordinary. Harm reduction techniques related to identity and role management can be described as normification because users present themselves as normally functioning in their everyday lives Goffman, When a cannabis-user decides not to use at work in order to maintain normal functioning, it can be considered a process of normification by the user. Normalization can only transpire when others accept the stigmatized individual and treat such a person as if they had no stigma Goffman, Participants contributed to the normalization of cannabis use through normificatio n. Their narratives exemplify a life-long process of normalization attempts to be accepted as non-stigmatized through self-regulation and other harm reduction practices that made cannabis use more palatable by reducing risks and increasing positive use outcomes. For example, some were wary of public attitudes outside of California. Even in San Francisco where cannabis use is generally accepted, there was a perception that certain people might not accept it. Participants offered contrasting stories of reactions to disclosure during interactions with health care professionals. Participants had to navigate settings of normalized and stigmatized cannabis use. Scapegoating occurred when users attempted to draw a line between their own safe drug use, and the risky or deviant drug use of others. They accepted the reality of cannabis-related risks, but expressed confidence in their self-regulation. Finally, they compared the risks of using cannabis with what they perceived to be more harmful substances such as alcohol and pharmaceutical medications. These rationalizations enabled users to argue that conventional morality regarding drugs did not apply to cannabis, and to reorganize their moral notions to permit continued use. Participants in our study managed health and social risks with relative ease, but the continued criminalization of cannabis use remained a source of serious potential harm. They considered arrest to be the biggest risk of using cannabis. Medical cannabis users were more likely to recognize cannabis as normalized, versus non-medical users who still risked criminal designations and the stigma of criminal status and involvement in illicit markets. Medical users perceived use as legitimized by doctors, even when they used recreationally, and enjoyed access to more harm reduction tools and education than cannabis users without a recommendation. They were hesitant to seek medical cannabis, or their primary doctors refused to recommend cannabis as therapy. Some doctors refuse to write recommendations because they fear punitive action or simply do not believe in the therapeutic value of cannabis Gieringer, Medical cannabis users existed in a regulated dispensary system where they could choose the correct delivery system, potency, strain, and effects that suited their needs. Users without legal-medical access had significantly less control over their cannabis supply, and may have been unaware of or could not access alternative delivery systems. Cannabis use can no longer be described as marginal or deviant in the sense of denoting membership in a distinctive subculture Mostaghim and Hathaway He states that even though some cannabis users acknowledged normalization, others regarded use as a symbolic marker of difference rather than something normal Sandberg, There was general agreement among our participants on the shifting attitudes towards normalization, but cannabis use was also described as being oppositional to aspects of the dominant culture. Participants described cannabis use in contrast to the loss of control and negative outcomes that were commonly attributed to alcohol use. This perception is important for users and non-users because legalization campaigns, especially in Colorado, emphasize the importance of allowing responsible adults to choose cannabis as a safer alternative to alcohol. Related findings from this study suggest interviewees regarded cannabis as a safer alternative to alcohol, illicit drugs, and pharmaceuticals, and deserve further exploration. If cannabis use continues its process of normalization, it will become more important to understand the symbolic meaning of cannabis use, and how those factors influence perceptions of the drug, use patterns, and practices. Harm reduction efforts are usually focused on high-risk groups, and non-problem users are neglected Hammersley, Interviewees maintained social functioning in conventional roles and activities. Their choice to use cannabis, and subsequent practices used to minimize risks, depended on other life factors. These informal rules are similar to the regulations, etiquette, and practices that have been identified in other studies of controlled cannabis users. Treatment and prevention initiatives should consider how cannabis users perceive and manage risks. Despite media portrayals and government warnings about the deleterious effects cannabis can have on normal functioning, participants found the benefits far outweighed the risks. In fact, the majority reported that they could exercise self-control while experiencing minimal negative outcomes. Interviewees indicated that information about the benefits of cannabis, health risks, vaporizing, the effects of different types and strains, and applicable laws and regulations would be beneficial to them. Findings suggest that the use of water pipes, vaporizers, and edible cannabis as harm reduction methods requires further research. These regulations reduce chances of using the wrong type of cannabis or overdosing, and could benefit non-medical cannabis users as well. Dalgarno and Shewan proposed that if users were thoughtful, well-prepared, and aware of the means and best settings for using cannabis, then the risks can be minimized and the benefits maximized. Potential age, class, race, and gender differences, as well as the role of parenting in use patterns and harm reduction practices also deserve further investigation with a larger representative population-based sample. We want to thank all of the study participants for their time and candor without whom this research project would not be possible. We want to acknowledge the support of Dr. Conflict of interest statement: The authors declare that there is no conflict of interest. Publisher's Disclaimer: This is a PDF file of an unedited manuscript that has been accepted for publication. As a service to our customers we are providing this early version of the manuscript. The manuscript will undergo copyediting, typesetting, and review of the resulting proof before it is published in its final citable form. Please note that during the production process errors may be discovered which could affect the content, and all legal disclaimers that apply to the journal pertain. Tetrahydrocannabinol, the main psychoactive cannabinoid in cannabis. A technique used to enhance THC absorption in the lungs, performed by moderately forceful attempted exhalation against a closed airway. We use pseudonyms for study participants to protect confidentiality and anonymity. Donald Abrams, M. Abrams received a number of grants from the Centre for Medicinal Cannabis Research and completed a placebo-controlled trial of cannabis in patients with HIV-related painful peripheral neuropathy as well as an investigation of vaporization as a smokeless delivery system. Abrams was a consultant for this project. As a library, NLM provides access to scientific literature. Int J Drug Policy. Published in final edited form as: Int J Drug Policy. Find articles by Nicholas Lau. Find articles by Paloma Sales. Find articles by Sheigla Averill. Find articles by Fiona Murphy. Find articles by Sye-Ok Sato. Find articles by Sheigla Murphy. Issue date Aug. The publisher's version of this article is available at Int J Drug Policy. Similar articles. Add to Collections. Create a new collection. Add to an existing collection. Choose a collection Unable to load your collection due to an error Please try again. Add Cancel.

Responsible and controlled use: Older cannabis users and harm reduction

Bog Walk buying ganja

We use cookies to improve our services and remember your choices for future visits. For more information see our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use. In , everything I had heard about marijuana was negative. Then one of the young guys who worked for me started talking about his experiences with it. He was intelligent, fun to be around, and very good at his job. A small crack opened in my absolute certainty that all pot smokers were criminals and addicts. Curious, I asked one of my younger friends to get me some marijuana. He sold me eight joints for a dollar each and gave me instructions on how to smoke them. I waited until my wife and daughter were visiting relatives for a couple of days. Then I locked the door, closed the drapes, threw my car keys on top of a kitchen cabinet in case I went crazy and wanted to drive off a cliff , and lit a joint. I smoked the whole thing and sat down to await my new experience. After half an hour with no results, I switched on the TV to amuse myself. I soon became engrossed in a program I had never seen before. The lighting, the music, the dialogue, the camera angles — everything about it was superb. I watched for probably fifteen minutes, fascinated, wondering what show this was. When the program suddenly ended, I discovered that I had been watching a commercial that had lasted all of thirty seconds. Right away, I wanted to apply this newfound attention to every aspect of experience. The furniture, the walls, the backs of my hands, the cat — nothing was too ordinary or mundane to revisit with heightened understanding. I felt as if my mind were a window that had been dirty for years but now was washed clean. My husband and I had two little ones, and money was tight. We used cloth diapers, ate homegrown veggies, and wore secondhand clothing. We were frugal in every way, except for one: my husband liked to smoke pot. To save money, I planted some pot seedlings in our vegetable garden. They did unbelievably well, and my husband had a newfound interest in gardening that year. At the end of the summer, I read in the local newspaper about someone who had been arrested for growing pot. Over time, alcohol got the best of my husband, who is now my ex. Perhaps I should have grown more. Years later, my best friend had a radical mastectomy at age thirty-four and used marijuana to alleviate the side effects of chemotherapy. Many nights she and I sat in silence on her screened porch, savoring the evening sounds and slowly smoking a joint. The parties were fun, but those are the times I miss the most: the creak of a rickety porch swing, the still night air, the hooting of a distant owl — all of it heightened by the possibility that it could be the last time. I start to explain the concept of leading and following, and we end up giggling like kids. It puts me in touch with myself and with the moment. It sharpens my focus so that I really see my kids, instead of just looking at them. It allows me to enter their world and become interested in whatever fascinates them. Pot frees me. In the eighties, four friends and I rented a large, run-down house in Eugene, Oregon. The men, myself included, were useless at household repairs, but Carolina could fix or build anything. She even built a privacy fence around the backyard, where we sunbathed nude all summer. The following spring, Carolina plowed up the backyard and put in a vegetable garden: to save money on the communal food bill, she said. To save on our communal pot bill, she planted four marijuana plants. Oregon was the first state to decriminalize marijuana possession: you could be fined twenty dollars for any amount under an ounce. But you could still get up to five years for cultivation. As our plants grew alongside the vegetables, I worried about getting busted. To ease my mind, Carolina set up a ten-foot-square piece of plywood between the marijuana and the vegetables. In the middle of it all, she wrote:. Carolina chased Max back out the hole under the fence and called the police. By the time the policeman arrived, Carolina and Paula were in a screaming match in the front yard. Paula stormed off, and the officer asked to see where Max had dug his way in. As Carolina and I led him into the backyard, I suddenly remembered our pot plants. I willed him to get back in his cruiser and leave, but Carolina began proudly pointing out different plants. Anyway, I need to go and write this report. We escorted him to the front door and watched him drive away. He was just a cop. I teach in a tiny public school in a picturesque town in California wine country, where the cultivation and sale of marijuana are a major part of the local economy. Many are already out in the real world making thousands of dollars selling marijuana. Meanwhile, every weekend my husband and several of our friends — all comfortable, decent, middle-class folks — smoke marijuana recreationally. I was ten years old the first time I smoked pot with my mom. My beautiful, rebellious, crazy mom smoked with the older kids while I tagged along, trying desperately to keep up. I liked buying drugs and trying new drugs and stealing drugs and pretending that I was older than twelve. I thought I liked the fact that my mom was always stoned. I thought I liked getting new pipes and big bags of weed in my stocking at Christmas. When I was sixteen and my mom moved out of the house, I thought I liked the freedom. I was wrong. I am now thirty-three with two children of my own. I still smoke on occasion. It is a comfort to me: soft, warm, familiar, and sad. I do not share it with my daughters. I send them to private school and nurture their innocence. When my daughter turned ten, I taught her how to bake bread, and we shared her first perfect loaf together. I was so proud — of both of us. Then I tucked her into bed, kissed her sweet face, and went to the garden to smoke a joint and cry, mourning my own lost innocence. I smoke marijuana pretty much every day. My husband smokes, too, and most evenings find us out on the back porch, having a toke. But when evening comes, we turn to cannabis to give us some perspective on the day. After twenty-plus years of use, the worst I feel when I stop for a few weeks is mildly irritable. But when I smoke again after a short abstinence, I see a holier universe. Cannabis heightens my connection to the world. Practicality is dethroned, and joy is given room to grow. My thoughts are less linear, more global. I am intense, creative, and focused in a wholly new way. My only regret is having to keep my cannabis use a secret from all but my best friends. I miss the seventies, when joints were passed around at parties and strangers would stop you in the street to offer a toke. Pot was a currency of togetherness then. Now we are threatened with drug tests, task forces, harsher sentences, and infringement of our civil liberties. My eighty-seven-year-old mother was, and is, an all-time classic party girl. When my son went to college, my mother would kid him about his pot habit. She guessed what was going on. The next Christmas, he presented her with a tiny blue-and-white Chinese urn containing two tightly saran-wrapped joints. The following October, she and I arranged a beach trip to get away from it all — and to smoke one of those joints. Why in the world, she asked, had she never heard of Ramsey Lewis, whose music billowed out of the boom box? Lord, if my friends could see me now! She came back with a triumphant smile and a hair clip, ready for another round. My mother is still saving the other joint for her deathbed. In , I lived in an old adobe house in rural Texas, about half a mile from the Rio Grande. Behind the house, an acre of wild sage, mesquite, and swamp cypress obscured an ugly canal running parallel to the train tracks. There were no railroad-crossing barriers at the intersections, and every night I was awakened twice as the passing trains sounded their horns to warn cars of their approach. I was eighteen. I was proud of my independence and my run-down-but-cheerful house. One incredibly clear October night, I set out to take a load of dirty clothes to the nearby laundromat. The corners of the pillowcases pointed up like little ears, and lopsided smiles and half-closed eyes appeared in the sags and folds. They looked like three enormously fat white cats. There was a sharp rise in the road just before it reached the railroad tracks. If you were driving fast enough and hit the rise just right, you were guaranteed a moment of weightlessness that made your stomach do a flip-flop. There was no one around no one was ever around , so I accelerated and flew up the rise, singing even louder. I glanced in the rearview mirror in time to see the pillowcase creatures bouncing happily against each other. We were the freest of the free, hurtling over the rise, across the canal, and down to the tracks. I was briefly aware of a bright light shining straight through the window on my right. Seven years ago, I had breast cancer and was treated with chemotherapy. I was told not to fear nausea: this was the nineties, and there were wonderful anti-nausea medications. My body has always reacted idiosyncratically to medicines, however. The side effects of every anti-emetic I tried were almost worse than the nausea itself. All one had to do to get it was stand in front of the high school a block from my home. My son was a student at that school. Before each chemo treatment, he offered to get me what I needed, but I never accepted. I could not allow my son to break the law on my behalf. If I ever have chemo again, though, I will openly, publicly, without any sense of guilt or shame, go down to that school and buy some marijuana myself. I was driving my fourteen-year-old daughter home from school one day when she asked if I had ever smoked marijuana. To my amazement, I had her complete attention. My daughter soon tired of my stories, however, and changed the subject. You meet some pretty interesting people smoking marijuana. Kile was a rail-thin yoga instructor with curly red shoulder-length hair. He seemed strung out and kept playing some Frank Zappa album over and over. We smoked some joints, made our buy, and were all just staring off into space when Kile casually announced that, being double-jointed, he could orally bring himself to climax. In college, after attending a reading by Ken Kesey, I crashed a private off-campus party in hopes of meeting the author. I was standing just inside the front door amid a crowd of buzzing grad students when the door burst open behind me, and in walked Kesey. Several hours and several joints later, Kesey was still going strong, singing and playing guitar, entertaining the few acolytes who were left. At one point, he told me the secret to life could be found in one word: competition. He was always insisting I take bong hits with him. One summer night, after a particularly colorful Fourth of July fireworks display, he matter-of-factly described how it had felt to spray Vietnamese villages with napalm from Huey helicopters, and how the villagers — mostly women and children — had scattered into the surrounding jungle like so many ants on fire, their heads and limbs aflame. Staying good and stoned, he said, was the only way he and his fellow GI s had made it through the war. My buddy Andy and I arrived at the ranch around 10 p. A monsoon-like rain was falling, and we were dead tired. Then we saw a woman coming at us, arms waving. The flickering candlelight in the small cabin made it seem friendly and inviting, as did the smiling faces of people hunkered down inside. The room smelled of fire-licked wood, mud, rain, fresh mountain air, and some type of aromatic hay. Andy and I unrolled our sleeping bags and settled in for the night. The next morning I awoke to see fifteen-foot marijuana plants — perhaps a hundred of them — hanging from the rafters high above us. Someone handed me a jar of coffee and a fat joint. Thus began my three-year stay on a northern-California marijuana commune. The first months were blissful. Everyone was constantly stoned, and harmony prevailed. It was October: manicuring season. Andy and I spent our days clipping away leaves and readying the large buds for sale. During breaks, we enjoyed exotic coffee, finger-sized joints, and stimulating conversation. With the departure of the sun, jugs of red wine and more huge joints came out. It was difficult to live in cramped spaces with no electricity or running water, but the marijuana made everything crackle with immediacy and significance. Over time, other drugs became readily available, and as we neared our third Christmas on the commune, Andy and I were strung out. Helicopters and camouflaged planes flew low over the land. The echo of machine guns could be heard well into the night. A man we all loved blew his head off with a shotgun. The owners of the land had become born-again Christians. There were now Christians, Hindus, Buddhists, Pagans, Rastafarians, and atheists all sharing the same forty acres. Small-scale religious wars broke out. Harmony was a memory. Sadness, distrust, and obscene intoxication had become the norm. Andy took a vow of silence and withdrew into a hut, where he consumed sheets of acid. I sought solace in altered states, but the bliss I had experienced upon arrival eluded me. Amid the grumpy faces and backbiting, I felt very alone. I was a junior at a small Catholic high school in rural Connecticut. Every day after school, I took refuge from my troubles by toking in front of General Hospital. Somehow my mother, a lonely, overworked woman raising a teenage daughter by herself, remained oblivious to this activity. I grew increasingly sloppy and careless. After digging together through the assorted junk on the kitchen table, we walked to my bedroom, where she grabbed my blue, flannel-lined L. Bean coat. Mom held the coat up triumphantly. It must have dropped out of my book bag. Soon afterward, my mother, thinking that my friend and I should be separated, sent me to boarding school. I was a virgin whose main social outlet was the Methodist Youth Fellowship group. I had never smoked pot, rarely cussed, and said my prayers every night. Boarding school was wholly out of my league: a kind of juvenile detention home for rich kids. They actually liked the cafeteria food. They had the coolest taste in music. They wore floppy hats and leather necklaces and tattered bell-bottoms. And they had all been to New York City. Wanting to try pot, I went to a local teenager, who sold my friend and me two matchboxes full of marijuana. We were so utterly inept at rolling a joint that he did it for us. Then we smoked it. The sky was bluer. The trees were greener. Chocolate exploded with pleasure on my tongue. I could not stop laughing. My preacher back home would not have approved. Food was just food. School was once again unbearable. I wondered why Jesus wanted me to be so miserable. One day I walked past a water fountain and saw a perfect two-finger baggie of pot sitting on the edge of the metal basin. I looked up and down the hallway. This had to be some sort of trick. Seeing no one, I snatched the bag, ran upstairs, stuffed towels under my bathroom door, and rolled a joint using a page torn out of my math book. I inhaled hungrily. As the smoke curled in my lungs and Mick Jagger blasted through the walls from next door, I had an epiphany: The baggie on the water fountain had been a message from God. Thank you, Jesus. The smell of blond Afghan hash, nutty and sweet, fills my bedroom. Dennis and I have put our chairs against the door and opened the window, letting in the cold night air. Our parents are asleep down the hall, their door wide open. I hear my father snoring loudly. Dennis is home for Christmas, and the visit has been tense. With a Swiss Army knife, Dennis shaves slivers from the rock-size chunk of hashish and drops them into a wooden pipe. Three decades have passed since that night. Dennis and I get together once every three or four years. Inevitably, at some point during our visit, one of us will light up. Mom was dying. Dennis got there before me and picked me up at the airport. She said she was sorry. I said I was, too. For thirty years, he had always said that Mom and Dad had kicked him out. Any other time, one of us would have taken this opportunity to light up. Instead, we just talked. Once, when I was in college in the sixties, a big guy with long hair came up to me in a store that sold bell-bottom pants. He assailed me with come-ons, to which I responded politely. I just want to make you feel good. I just want to help you loosen up. In my marijuana-induced fog, I was sure he had found out something true about me. I was uptight and anxious. I did need to loosen up. Every time I tried to say no, I would see myself as a typical New Englander with a terrible hang-up about having fun. After all, he was probably a really good person, and I could see that if only I could let go and relax. Afterward I felt terrible. There was Jay the auto mechanic, who kept different grades of marijuana in the different drawers of his red metal tool chest. And Robert, who came to my apartment to help fix the water heater. He told me who the dealers were and then thought I owed him. Now my teenage daughter is experimenting with drugs. Whereas I learned to be sweet, cooperative, and agreeable, I want my daughter to be strong, honest, and tough. That my mom and dad had no response to my madness made the ride all the merrier. I was finally starting to live. During college, my boyfriend went to Pakistan for the summer and left me with a pound of marijuana. Day and night I masterfully cleaned, rolled, and smoked with abandon while listening to Santana albums, watching old movies, masturbating, dancing, and eating. I left the house only to buy food. In the third week of my solitary orgy, I was sure I heard someone tapping on the windows in the dark. Hysterical, I called the police. Minutes later, having completely forgotten the incident, I set up a bong full of red wine and reefer and put on a Grover Washington album. Suddenly I heard a loud knock at the door. Blue lights flashed on the living-room drapes. Oh, shit. The banging persisted. Running in circles, I grabbed the baggie, pipes, and rolling papers from the coffee table and stuffed them into the toilet tank. Then I opened the door to a pair of uniformed officers with a squawking radio. A cloud of pungent smoke billowed into their faces. I still had no memory of it. They hesitated for a moment — a century to me — and then said they would look around outside. I turned the lock and sank to the floor in relief. When I lifted the lid on the toilet tank, the dope was soaked, and my well-seasoned pipes were waterlogged. I sat on the floor and sobbed. Five years later, I awoke at 5 A. We made up with a bowl of Mexican in bed. I now smoked twelve joints a day and never got the munchies anymore. My head ached, and nothing felt good, not even the high. At the time, I was working as a therapist in a drug-treatment center. The clinical director was also my dealer. Every week I took the adolescent patient group to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting in town. One morning, as the Twelve Steps were read aloud from a huge poster on the wall, I was floored by the knowledge that the poster was speaking to me. I felt sick with fear and shame. I fled the room and the job, leaving eleven baffled youngsters to find their own ride back to the hospital. I have smoked pot almost every day for the last seventeen years. Enough to make me scrape the pipe seeking remnants. I have confided in many a doctor, looking for someone to confirm my addiction. Once, I went to a huge bookstore in hopes of finding a book about the dangers of smoking pot. I followed, feeling triumphant. On my own I located the addiction-and-recovery section. There were hundreds of books, none of them about marijuana. I left the store in disbelief. Recently, when I thought I might have a rare and deadly disease, I swore that I would never smoke again — that I would honor my body for the rest of my short life. It turned out that I would live, but I needed major surgery. I vowed to quit smoking during the recovery period, which is two to three months. It has been six weeks since my surgery, and I have been stoned for three. My little brother Jeremy smokes pot every day. Although I laugh when he tells me stories of his latest high, inside I feel uneasy. Our father died when I was sixteen. Sometimes she cried in front of us, which made me feel even more alone. I remember her telling me that Dad had smoked pot several times a week. The first time Jeremy smoked, he was only eleven. Mom packed a bowl and let each of us have a hit. She was in one of her weird moods where she wanted to hang out with us kids and not act like a parent. All he did was giggle and eat pizza. By the time Jeremy was sixteen, he was smoking every day, and dealing, too. Grandpa tried to scare him with stories about going to prison. Mom tried to keep him home at night. My brother Albert and I made fun of him for being such a stoner. But no one stopped to think of why he was turning to marijuana in the first place. The day our father died, we were vacationing at a ranch in Montana. Albert ran to get help while Jeremy, only ten, stayed and watched helplessly as Dad vomited and his speech became slurred. Jeremy is now nineteen years old. He has told me that he uses marijuana to escape, but he has never told me what he is trying to escape from. I first smoked pot at thirteen. It was the greatest experience of my young life — better than my first orgasm. Finally, I just stopped. At twenty-one I was sent to prison, and my fellow convicts always laughed when I refused to smoke pot. I was mad all the time and very aggressive. I assaulted several inmates. Immediately, I felt as if I was having a mental breakdown. I was flushed and hyperventilating. Everything turned an orange hue. I discovered pot in the eighth grade and spent most of high school in a drug-induced fog. Later I quit a good union job to become a dealer. When I found myself in jail at the age of twenty, it scared me straight. Once out, I was determined not to get caught up in the criminal lifestyle again. But I continued to enjoy a good smoke whenever I had a chance. Last year, my thirteen-year-old son got caught smoking pot at a school function. Not long after that, my son and his mother began butting heads, and he came to live with me. Since then, he has been making decent grades in school and has developed good friendships with kids who are straight. But I still smoke pot myself. Like a couple of adolescents waiting for Mom and Dad to leave, my buddy and I confer about whether our kids and spouses will be around for the weekend. We smoke so little at this point that it takes only a couple of hits to get us wasted. We savor that rush as we sit on the porch or in the garage and talk about whatever comes to mind. The warm, mellow feeling settles over us like a blanket. Jane loves costume parties, and I play along because somebody at these functions usually has some pot. We arrive, Jane jovial and gregarious in her dyed red hair and vintage fifties dress, and I stiff and awkward in my greased pompadour, black velour jacket, and two-tone shoes. I go inside for a beer and tentatively approach Jane, trying to look normal. But she knows. She always knows. I bristle and crank up the volume in defiance. I drink, dance, sing, flirt, curse, and tell raunchy jokes. Only toward the end of the evening, when the buzz has begun to fade, do I notice that people are avoiding me. I feel a sharp pang of shame, but I conceal it. When Jane and I finally leave, the silence in the car is oppressive. Hanging in the air like a neon sign is the accusation: you acted like an idiot. At home, as we go inside, I pause in the open doorway for a moment, and our tabby cat Alice bolts out and runs under the house. I think the poor thing would be happier outside, traffic be damned. I grab the keys, stomp to the car, and peel out of the driveway. Has something we published moved you? Fired you up? Did we miss the mark? Accept Deny. Contact Us Subscribe Submission Guideliness. I go with her to the living room. There must be, I agree. A few marijuana leaves dangled over the top of the painted plywood. We were screwed. We harvested the marijuana — leaves, buds, and all — that night. David Wood Bowling Green, Florida I teach in a tiny public school in a picturesque town in California wine country, where the cultivation and sale of marijuana are a major part of the local economy. Name Withheld I was ten years old the first time I smoked pot with my mom. Eli A. Oakland, California I smoke marijuana pretty much every day. Name Withheld My eighty-seven-year-old mother was, and is, an all-time classic party girl. Name Withheld. What Do You Think? Fiction Aphelion Michael Shilling. Quotations Sunbeams. Related Selections. 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