My husband and I, despite being very different people as in female versus male, Mars vs. Venus, are very much alike in many ways. We share an affinity for the same books, music, films, and travel destinations. He can complete my sentences for me and doesn't get ticked off when I take a left turn in conversations without signaling. But he threw me for a loop yesterday when I asked how he planned to vote for Proposition 19, the initiative to legalize marijuana for personal use.
First, let me say that we do not smoke pot. We don't grow pot. And I probably don't know very many people who do. But I don't ask because I don't care.
My husband voted against legalizing personal possession of marijuana because he said the proposition was badly written. It wasn't due to masculine pronouns, mixed metaphors or misplaced verbs. Nobody offered to "reach out." I swear, if I hear one more person offer to reach out on my behalf I'll scream. He objected because he didn't want federal funding to be withheld from the state of California.
I can see his point. But I grew up in the 1960s. I am NOT going to be that person who goes to the polls and votes against legalizing pot. Just not gonna do it.
Whatever California does, the rest of the nation follows. Nobody had legalized medicinal pot before we did. Now, six other states have similar laws. Still, doesn't look like it's gonna happen. The news this morning is more than 55% of the voters are against legalizing marijuana. What a shame. I know a bunch of people in the middle of Sacramento short sales who probably could have benefited.
Photo: Big Stock Photo
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