Article by Roy Green, Global News
In the 1960s, legendary comedian Lenny Bruce made this prediction. “Marijuana will be legal some day, because the many law students who now smoke pot will some day become Congressmen and legalize it in order to protect themselves.”
As a male in his late teens for whom beer was the bridge of choice to adulthood, and who did no drugs at all, I would have placed money on Lenny’s prediction.
Almost all of my friends smoked, dodging the half-interest of Montreal’s gendarmerie while indulging in doobies and double-shot espressos at hippie coffee houses. For them, legalizing marijuana consumption was critical — an Easy Rider essential.
We rode motorcycles, mine chopped á la Fonda and Hopper. Long hair and beards, noisy boots and leathers offered an aura of invincibility. And the weed went along everywhere. Once, unwisely, it joined us on one ride across the United States border into New York state.
It didn’t take the U.S. Customs folks long to pull aside and partly dismantle one of my buddy’s bikes, find his stash and escort him cuffed into a cell, where he may have been staring at years as a guest of the U.S. criminal justice system. The Americans, though, cut my pal a major break and sent him home with, as I recall, a multi-year ban on reentering the U.S.