The Jewish Community Relations Council/AJC (JCRC/AJC) is seeking physicians and other medical professionals to…
Five Key Demographics Who Support Medical Marijuana
Everyone knows the kind of person who opposes medical marijuana (hint: sounds like ZUZZKILL), but who can be counted on to support the cause? Here are the five prototypes whose Venn diagrams intersect at “Probably Friends With Gina” and “Believe Medical Marijuana Should Remain Legal.”
Ah, youth … remember being 18? Everything was so vitally important; then you grew up and realized, “Maybe not having a prom date wasn’t the worst thing in the world since now I’m underemployed and my house is underwater.”
That torturous age of teenage angst, wanting so badly to be taken seriously, is also a prime breeding ground for activism in a “controversial” cause. Never mind the fact that many of these young bucks have barely figured out what fraternity or sorority to rush.
Angsty teenage support for medical marijuana is less about reefer itself and more about wanting to support a hot button issue, if only to be able to say, “Look how progressive I am!” (At least until their parents see them on TV at a local pro-pot rally.)
Like, duh. If any group is going to support medical marijuana, it’s these guys. Mostly because really, what else do they have going on? Music festivals, shaggy hair and gonorrhea all have gone mainstream. They need one last vestige of the hippie lifestyle to cling to — and marijuana it is.
Perhaps I’m being too harsh on the poor hippies. I honestly believe most of them really do need medical marijuana since being a hippie is the No.1 warning sign that a person has something seriously medically wrong with him. Keep Medical Marijuana Legal — let’s fix the hippies!
No one has it worse than boyfriends. Girlfriends are high maintenance — especially these days when there are so many more things to be annoyed about: “Why didn’t you text me? Who’s this floozy writing on your wall? Why don’t you talk to me when Game of Thrones is on?”
After only a few weeks of the relationship, our poor boyfriend is a prime candidate for anxiety-related marijuana therapy. Not only does he qualify, he’s practically champing at the bit for anything that might provide some relief.
Rule Exception: Husbands. I don’t even want to hear about it from you! You don’t have it that bad, and dumping you would take your wife much more effort and money than it takes a girl to shake her pesky boyfriend loose.
Art teachers support medical marijuana for two reasons: 1) Marijuana livens the senses, opens the mind and fosters thought waves essential to the creative process … yadda yadda granola yadda; 2) they have to be around kids all day — and daily long-term exposure to kids is a form of torture that should be included in the Geneva Conventions.
These poor souls have to concoct numerous projects to keep restless children with 3-second attention spans occupied every day throughout the school year. Eventually they run out of ideas and must rely on herbal inspiration.
Moreover, dealing with unruly kids everyday is enough to give anyone anxiety, or at least stress diarrhea, which probably counts as one of the “gastrointestinal illnesses” treated with medical marijuana. Class is going to be mayhem anyway, so art teachers figure the only way to deal is to get a medical card and load up on the kine bud!
YOUR WEIRD UNCLE
Every family has at least one! (If you disagree and think your family is different, you’re wrong and it’s probably you!)
The typical weird uncle dons tweed jackets with elbow patches, goes to flea markets, thinks everything is a conspiracy and floats through life in a fog of smoke.
His philosophy hasn’t changed since 1967, and that’s OK, man, because he’s a cool cat.
He needs medical marijuana just to make it through awkward family gatherings where, as a result of accidentally sharing too many details about possibly fathering a love child in Jamaica, he’s an outcast.
Even if he didn’t need it, though, he’d totally support the legalization of medical marijuana because he has to fight the power, man. Woo, McGovern ’72! RT