So the sign on the hotel door read NO SMOKING OF ANYTHING INSIDE!
“Hmm,” I thought to myself. “I must be in Colorado.”
We are on our first trip out of state since August 2019, cruising up central Colorado to Steamboat Springs and back, magnificent scenery all the way, cool temperatures, and signs of a thriving green economy. No less than three cannabis dispensaries are lined up in a row next to our hotel. I wondered if this was the one block zoned for cannabis.
New Mexico recently decriminalized simple possession, but it’s still illegal for me to buy it, or to buy legal Colorado pot and take it into my home state, which seems pretty silly. But then cannabis laws have always been ridiculous, and I don’t doubt that even after everything’s legal, legacy dimwitted rigamarole will remain.
I read somewhere that there is still a law on the books in Baltimore, MD, that if a woman is going to drive a car, her husband is required to run down the road ahead of the car waving a red flag. Legacy dimwitted rigamarole.
Yeah, the history of marijuana in this country is convoluted, to say the least. When I was being trained as a drug councilor in the navy, the most interesting fact I learned was that the year with the highest per-capita consumption of marijuana was 1928. Marijuana was legal; alcohol was not.
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