Recently, I decided to revisit my youth and go to a Dead show.
For the uninitiated, Dead & Company includes a few original members of the iconic ’60s band The Grateful Dead, plus a few other musicians.
The last time I was among that much tie-dye was in the 1980s, when I was a college student following the Dead around the Bay area.
And I will admit — because I’m pretty sure there’s a statute of limitations — I was not unfamiliar with the pungent haze wafting through the lawn seats, nor the marijuana-laced baked goods being offered to the crowed.
“Edibles, edibles?” called out one ragged entrepreneur. “I just want to get rid of these last ten brownies…100 milligrams of Blue Dream.”
But marijuana has been off my radar for decades. For one, other than post-hippie gatherings like a Dead show, I wouldn’t know where to get it. And two, it’s been against the law.
I’m not the only one.
“I saw it as something that carried this stigma,” said Robin Fordham, a friend of mine who hasn’t smoked pot in years. “You were doing something that was illegal, and therefore threatening to your kids and your family. And so it was easier to just stay away from.”