A Bud Tender
AJ Robinson

On a recent episode of the sitcom, Mom, Christie Plunkett goes to a dispensary to pick up some medication for her boss. The medication is marijuana-based. Christie, her mother and their friends are former alcoholics and drug users; they are totally fascinated by the shop.

Legalised weed spreads at state level, despite Trump.

The clerk behind the counter tells them, “Everything in here has pot in it, including me.” This is the America in which we live. Marijuana is legal many states, such as California, Illinois and Alaska, and for a variety of uses, including recreational.

Recently, a member of my family got into the legal marijuana business. I don’t want to say who it is, as I need to respect his privacy. After all, although pot is legal in many states, it is still illegal according to the federal government.

As the Trump administration is totally committed to stamping out marijuana use, I must be concerned for his safety; especially because Trump sent his private little army to invade Portland. I used to think nothing was beyond the limit for him. Now, I see I was wrong.

I can say my family member is happy in his new position. One other family member wrote to tell me of our relative applied for the job. My daughter, Alexa, gave me more details.

We had quite the little chuckle over the application process. I asked her if she thought he’d need a reference to help get the job. If so, I could give him a glowing one.

I could speak of his years of experience in the field, of his ability at tending the plants, coming up with new varieties and his thorough and committed efforts when it came to quality control. She laughed and said maybe I should hold off on that unless needed. He could certainly call on me if he wanted.

He got the job on his own merits.

As it turned out, he didn’t need my help. He was able to get the job based on his own merits. He went through the company training sessions, got all his certifications and such and started working.

When I chatted with him via email, to ask how the news job was going he said it was great, but, as is typical for an entry level job, he was starting at the bottom. It meant he handled deliveries and did not tend the plants.

I assured him that it was only a matter of time before they became aware of his horticultural talents and he would soon be applying his talent. He laughed. He said it was a tad ironic that, after so many decades of concealing his extracurricular activities from the authorities, he could trot them out in the open and be proud of his skills.

I jokingly asked if I could get the family discount and arrange for some gummies. Although he said the company offered specials, sadly they did not have gummies. I was disappointed and acknowledged the question was moot.

I don’t have a valid medical condition. I can’t get a Florida state permit to make a purchase from his or any other dispensary. That is something for the future.

Right now, I wonder if perhaps it’s my mom who could use some medical marijuana. Given her pain, as she recovers from an accident, and considering her depression, a tincture or some other form of that magical medication might be just what she needs to improve her situation.

To be honest, just thinking of the idea is enough to make me smile. What a touch of irony that would be, my mom, at the age of ninety-four starting to use marijuana to help her recover from her accident. If it helped, I’m all for it.

Who knows what the future holds?

I seem to recall one of my brothers having a poster in his room, when I was a little kid, which showed an elderly lady enjoying a smoke of a reefer. Of course, at that age I had no clue as to what she was smoking. Now I do and I sincerely hope my mom can be as happy as that little old lady looked.