No wonder the
General Assembly tabled progress on and the
Governor vetoed dialogue about medical marijuana compassion centers… just look at what’s happened in California! In this week’s New Yorker, David Samuels offers
an insanely long insider’s look at the cannabis culture of California post-Proposition 215 and (the aptly named) Senate Bill 420. Here’s a taste:
One of Captain Blue’s regular marijuana customers was a dispensary in Venice Beach. The store, which has cement floors, a glass display case, and a couch the color of aluminum, looks like a cross between a photographer’s loft and a Kiehl’s boutique. When I last visited, large Mason jars in the display case were filled with designer strains of weed selected by the owner, Cindy 99, whose nickname refers to a variety of designer pot. In a refrigerator, and marked “For medicinal use only,” were treats such as marijuana granola and marijuana milk chocolate with crispy wafers. Above the counter hung a notice: “To our valued patients: in accordance with California law, we are required to add 8.25% sales tax.”
And this excerpt is my favorite:
Growing ganja lets you feel that you’re still living on the edge, especially when you’ve become a little complacent politically. Emily nodded, and took another puff. “The forest is still getting cut down or whatever,” she said, watching the fragrant smoke swirl in the breeze. “But you’re still working out here. You’re still subverting the Man. And you’re getting people high.”
[Full disclosure, since some of our readers have a tough time with sarcasm and send angry e-mails: compassion centers are a really good idea. A ridiculous number of pot-smoking hippies who benefit from the arrangement are merely collateral damage.]
Sphere: Related Content