Thursday, July 31, 2003

DRIVING IN MY CAR

I woke up yesterday and vomited. Even taking into account my innate hypochondria, I thought I felt a little warm. Nonetheless, I pressed on to the office thinking I would get the essentials done and go home. I ended up driving to Cambridge instead to file a complaint that was returned for a lousy $5 surcharge that was listed nowhere on the incomprehensible, Romney inspired, newly increased filing fee charts. No one listened when I said Romney would not solve what ails the Commonwealth. I still think Reich would have but no matter, we have to hope we will survive Mitt.

Four hours on the MA Turnpike and almost an hour dealing with Boston drivers in town. I have to admit I contributed to the myth of the BAD Boston driver on the return trip. Funny town to drive in, easy to get into but impossible to find the way out. It's like the MA Pike is some dirty secret. There aren't street signs much less highway markers. So I slowed way down on Storrowtown Drive trying to find a sign - any omen that I was getting close, and this truck pulls up behind me going 70, blaring his horn and giving me the finger.

It was slowing up two hundred feet anyway. So I shake my arms around and shout some shit back, pointing to the traffic jam but I keep going. The guy slides between me and the car next to me, making four lanes out of three, cuts me off, and roars away slicing on through the traffic. Worked out for me, he cleared the lane and the next exit was miraculously mine. I was dead straight sober, but it was one of those times when it felt like the car knew the way to go better than me. We hit the same bridge that let us escape last time.

I've owned this car for three years and I'm just bonding with it. Until about a month ago, I probably put 1,500 miles on the odometer. I still don't know where all the stuff is, I often pop the trunk instead of the gas cap cover. It's turning out to be a good highway car though. We both have the same comfort zone at around 70-75. Keeps you in the left lane just under the acceptable over-the-limit range and melts the miles a little faster.

It was kind of Zen, surfing through the traffic on the pike. I used to love to drive and I used to do it a lot. In my lifetime, I've spent a lot of hours on this particular stretch of road. It evokes memories in its monotony. Going up the big hill, I could almost see the Volkswagen bus I used to drive on our weekly drug run into the city. Later on I drove a van. In those days there was a kind of cameraderie between the runners on the road. We used to wave to each other and share melting ice cream at the rest areas. The world was so much more civilized then. You don't see VW buses on the road anymore and nobody waves. I miss those gentler times.

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DOCTOR, DOCTOR, GIVE ME THE NEWS

Good news on the medical marijuana front. In a Medscape poll, still in progress when I received it, 85% of medical professionals endorse the plant as a medicine. Statistics like this is what makes Andrea Barthwell's remarks denying industry acceptance so transparently false and infuriating.

Here we are suffering the indignities perpetrated by the DEA in the so called land of the free, while in Canada, only hours away from where I sit now, Marijuana Home Delivery has been operating a successful website without government interference for many months. I hope that kind of thinking is more contagious than SARS.

Speaking of SARS, the scare seems to be over judging by the 450,000 fans who paid the mere $16US to spend the night together with the Rolling Stones. I considered going myself at that bargain price, but frankly I was also thinking that both Mick and I are getting a little too old for these big concerts. I saw some video of the show. Mick is definitely starting to show his age.

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ARMY OF ONE

I've been trying to avoid talking about the Iraq war here but this Flash video was so powerful and it struck me as I watched it, that it could just as easily be describing the War on Users of Natural Drugs, or any war for that matter. Fair warning, it's disturbing. The sense of loneliness it evokes has been haunting me since I saw it. Dark as it is, it's the last word today.

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