215/420
News
On February 17th, a research team affiliated with UCSD
announced the results of a ten-year study on marijuana and pain. It concluded
that pot does, indeed, offer substantial relief from certain kinds of chronic
pain, including AIDS, diabetes, and spinal pain. The research team presented
their findings to the state legislature. Whether that leads to across-the-board
legalization and taxation remains to be seen. Right now, the "weed with roots
in hell" has been legal since 1996 for those over 21 who have a doctor's
recommendation.
My buddy
Don, who is 60, suffers from multiple health problems: debilitating nighttime
leg cramps, scoliosis, and severe lower back pain. Recently, Don took a
musician (!) friend's advice and asked a doctor for a medical marijuana
prescription. On January 5th, his late mother's birthday, Don got his
prescription. Now his bathroom medicine cabinet has prescription bottles with
labels reading, "Grand-Daddy Purple," "Blue Dream," "Cotton," "God's Gift," and
"Bubble Goo," alongside the usual bottles of aspirin, laxatives, and Viagra.
Don tells me the prescription-strength pot takes his mind off the pain (and
makes him really hungry!), but he
only smokes it after work because he gets so relaxed and mellow.
I tried
marijuana once when I was in college, but I didn't swallow.
Beisbol
News
Baseball season begins soon.
Fact:
between 1981 and 1984, the Padres had a backup catcher named Doug Gwosdz. His
nickname was "eye chart!"
Ba-da-bing!!
Metaphor
Update
I recently watched a show on History called "American
Pickers," which follows a pair of men who scour barns and attics throughout the
Midwest, hunting for antiques. In one scene, one of them picked up a stuffed
bird dating from the 1920s and commented, "This
smells like a sumo wrestler took a dump on a burning tire!"
Ba-da-bing!!
Zeppelin
Update
On January 31st, our black Lab-Rhodesian dog, Zeppelin,
turned 16 years of age, or somewhere between 85 and 112 years old in human
terms. She is stone deaf, has cataracts, and takes drugs to combat doggie
Alzheimer's. Ol' Zeppy stands or lies down and stares at Sandi and me, panting
all the while, waiting for one of us to move. Whoever walks out of the room
gets followed closely. Wherever we stop, she stops. Sometimes we'll walk in
circles just to wind her up! She has no clear signal to indicate that she needs
to pee or poop, so we have to guess. So far, at least, the old gal is not
pooping in the house. Zeppelin's bark, I'm happy to say, still rattles the
walls. She sounds like a barking rhinoceros. It's like seeing myself in 50
years!
Ba-da-bing!
Next month:
The April Fool's column (or not.)