Forty years ago I may have been more interested. Call it timing, or time of my life, but I really don’t care about the legalization of marijuana.

As of today, consumption and sale of pot is legal in Canada, the fulfillment of a 2015 election promise by now-prime minister Justin Trudeau.

It’s a pretty big thing to some people; they were lined up at stores in Newfoundland at midnight to be the first in the country to purchase the now-legal weed. Other people will wait until morning, or until they are of legal age. Some people won’t bother.

It’s a personal thing, like beer, wine or spirits.

It is also now, like beer, wine, and spirits, a taxable commodity (some may even call it a tax grab), promoted by governments as a move to kill the lucrative black market trade and take the drug out of the hands of organized crime. Governments claim control of the substance will also better keep it away from minors (a time when many of us were introduced to weed).

I grew up through the ’70s, reading about the power and pleasure of marijuana in the pages of Rolling Stone magazine, and listening to the comical side of the sub-culture on Cheech and Chong records. I don’t really remember the first time I smoked pot, and was essentially done with it all by the time I was in university (a time when many discovered bud time).

I do remember the last time I smoked a joint, years ago, as a totally pleasurable experience. I’m just not into it now. It’s a personal thing. I do believe part of attraction to pot was the fact that it was not legal; temptation never tastes as sweet as it does from a forbidden fruit.

There been a lot of talk, for years and of late, about the lessening dangers of marijuana. There has been a lot of talk about whether or not the dangers even existed.

While Studies have shown, apparently, that marijuana is not addictive, there will be those people with an addictive personality who will still ignore responsibilities, escape their reality, and even isolate themselves from friends and families.

Others will (continue to) use marijuana as a social drug, and enjoy a Saturday evening with a couple of friends and a few fingers of dope.

Governments are now, already, projecting the millions of dollars of revenue expected to flow into its coffers. History is rife with examples of how governments capitalize on vices. Sin taxes remain one of any governments greatest addiction.

We can only hope newfound revenue will find its way into drug education and treatment plans. In the days leading up to legalization, there certainly hasn’t been enough education on the facts and folly of a drug that was, just yesterday, considered contraband.

We can only hope the increased revenue will actually provide governments with funding to do something about society’s real problem drugs, like the opioid crisis and its increased body count.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

What we choose to carry
across the sand, across the street,
or through shadows that threaten or question,
will influence how we walk
across this planet.
Implications. Allegations.

Will you step meekly, leaving
a faint footprint, pace forcefully
forward, or drag your feet to leave a mark.
Could you be left behind,
a solemn slice of nostalgia?
Outdated. Obsolete.

How will the weight of a cruel world
affect you? Keeping up with
rapid technological advancement will silence you.
It never remains the same;
never will, nor will you.
Decisions. Revisions.

Sand will become stone, streets
will grow into neighbourhoods, and
skyscrapers will create doubt or a place to hide.
Will you take comfort in isolation
away from the sun?
Confusion. Evolution.

You will see your future more clearly
with your eyes no longer squinting.
Rest, as you can. Your mind is overflowing
Your body is tired. This pace
will leave you breathless.
Persistence. Resistance.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

Victimless crime.
Take what is yours, take what is mine.

Undue violence, the greed, hypocrisy;
what is left behind when
we are only accountable
to ourselves.

Each of us a shadow,
most of us forgettable,
all of us trying
to get by.

Beyond the barking dogs, before
pungent night air strangles any humanity
from vagrants who piss in corners
we never visit.

On the darker side of 3 a.m.

A wrong answer will get you knifed,
the wrong needle will leave you dead.

No one will care.
Fewer will know.

Remind me who I am
before I forget to see.

Just write
my name
in graffiti.

Claim my sins
and transgressions.

I will own up to my responsibilities,

like a prayer
like a poem
like a person.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

Boundaries
we come to know, and believe.
Tried, tested, often failed.

How can we reach out if we don’t know
how far we have gone from stranger
to acquaintance. Or lovers.
Former to later.

Boundaries seemed not to matter.

Overwhelmed, still and again,
self-doubt and denial I am unable to confess
even to myself.

And you.

We may long for the same things
in different places
Boundaries undefined.

We may never know who we are
and still we see.

Beyond this naked ambiguity, we clutch our breath,
gobsmacked at the power or potential
of what could happen.

Love, acceptance,
expressed, received.

It is not logic that takes us
where we want to go, but
emotion that pulls us along.

We see in others
what we want to see.

We look past boundaries
when this sense of unknowing
is all that you know.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

 

When did we stop paying attention to the world around us?

A teenager cruises through an intersection on a bike, one hand on the handlebars, eyes focused only on the cell phone in his other hand. An office worker charges off an elevator and into a tray of hot coffee, her eyes never lifting from the tiny screen. A distracted businessman steps onto the crosswalk on a red light and a car with the right-of-way narrowly misses him.

I’m not surprised, but I am bewildered. When did our handhelds become the main focus of our lives?

Nobody can doubt or discount how beneficial our mobile devices have become to society. We have access to information, essentially, wherever we are. We can communicate, share photos of our pets and partners, seek advice, and get directions to wherever we are going. We can shop, do our banking, and we can be entertained by social media.

It is wonderful, yes.

The thing is, we are forgoing what used to be considered regular, everyday, activities and allowing our cellular phones dictate what we do, and how we do it.

We are, quite simply, spending too much time staring at our screens. I did say we because, I know, I am doing it myself.

I’m trying to cut back. I should have snapped a photo of the careless teen, but my phone was stowed away in my messenger bag; I’m making a point of putting it away when I don’t need it. I decided I was needing it too much.

I’ve sat down for lunch with coworkers and instead of talking about weekend plans, politics, sports or art, each of us was catching up on whatever was on our phone. We didn’t share what we were absorbing. We even tried to converse between bites of a sandwich or salad, but the content of our discussion was about as meaningful as most of the stuff I was catching on my newsfeed.

Do we need to take frequent breaks from real life to watch the latest nonsensical soundbite emanating from the floppy jowls of the reality television performer we call now President of the USA? Or do we need to read, right now, the ramblings of an ordinary guy who believes we all spend too much time gazing at hand-sized screens?

Couldn’t it wait until later? Like maybe when you sit down for your next bowel movement?

We are missing out on what’s really happening. I have seen people miss transit stops, or walk by an intended destination, because they were too busy reading or watching something that has totally taken control of their mind.

What’s so important that you can’t take the time to walk down the street and actually look up to see the latest fashions in the windows, flowers in the park, the artwork of a fabulous tattoo, or all those smiling strangers (those who aren’t face down and blindly stepping forward) passing you by on a glorious summer day.

We haven’t simply become addicted to our devices; we are being controlled by them.

We’ve been manipulated into watching content and commercialism that algorithms have determined will be of personal interest. All social media platforms are programmed to distract you. Service providers, browsers, and platforms, are all collecting data. If you click on a travel site one day, soon you are flooded with offers, suggestions, and other destination opportunities. If you do a little online banking on your coffee break, and you’ll soon get hit with credit card offers, payday loan proposals and interest rate alerts from other financial services.

It does not stop. Each click, each time you move from site to site, little bytes of information about you and your viewing habits are being collected. We are being manipulated into looking, seeing, and buying. Our reality is being hijacked.

What are you missing out on?

p.s. This ordinary guy thanks you for reading my ramblings – I do appreciate you taking the time.