Barry Smith: Irrelativity
Aspen CO Colorado
Seventy-five pot-free Thanksgivings – we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, Coloradans. It’s time to reintroduce cannabis to the Thanksgiving canon in a big way.
Marijuana was made illegal way back in 1937 by a bunch of white guys who didn’t understand jazz, but as of the November election, it will soon be legal for recreational use in Colorado. And this being America, I don’t have to tell you that “recreation” and “eating” are synonymous. USA! USA!
Yes, that’s right – I said “reintroduce.” It’s widely accepted that marijuana was part of the bounty offered to the Pilgrims by the Indians way back at the very first Thanksgiving feast.
“And we also brought you some cranberry sauce, some sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top and, oh, you’re gonna love this stuff – I know you’re already on the verge of starvation, but take a rip off this and you’ll REALLY enjoy the food.”
Proponents of this theory claim that in the photographs of the first Thanksgiving, you can see what is clearly a bong on the main serving table. Others claim it’s not a bong but merely an unusually ornate gravy boat and that it’s the pile of brownies on the dessert table that contain the kind bud. Certain historians refute this theory altogether, citing the “fact” that photography hadn’t quite been invented in 1621. In scholarly circles, these people are known as “mellow-harshers.”
My point, fellow Coloradans, is that if you haven’t had much experience with the Weed of Satan’s Garden, then this new era of Thanksgiving might take a bit of getting used to. Let me tell you a little bit about what you can expect.
• “Coloradans” is a weird word, isn’t it? I’ve used it twice already, and it just doesn’t sound right. It not only sounds weird – it just “feels” weird. Know what I mean? Coloradans. Coloradans. Hey, now that we’re on the subject, my thumb looks weird, too.
• Prepare yourself for seemingly inexplicable laughter each time someone mentions the green-bean casserole. You see, in the reefer subculture, the word “green” is considered hilarious because it’s – get this – the same color as the marijuana plant. So don’t be surprised by an exchange like this one.
YOU: Will you please pass the green-bean casserole?
OTHER PERSON: Oh, you want the GREEN beans? Sure, here are the GREEN beans. Hahahaha.
OTHER PERSON 2: Hahahaha. Green. Green beans. I bet they’re really green, huh? Hahahaha.
OTHER PERSON: Hahahahaha.
OTHER PERSON 2: Ha! Haha! Green! Hahaha!
COMPLETE STRANGER WHO HAS JUST WALKED IN YOUR FRONT DOOR BECAUSE NOBODY REMEMBERED TO SHUT IT: Can I use your bathroom? Hey, is that a green-bean casserole? Green! Hahahaha.
YOU: Um – you still haven’t passed it to me.
• You know that speech you have to give to the kids’ table every year, the one about how food is not a toy and that making elaborate, “Close Encounters”-like mashed-potato sculptures is not the proper way to behave at dinner? Well, you might want to start practicing an adult version of that.
• Whatever game you thought you were going to watch on TV after dinner, well – new legislation demands new post-dinner entertainment. You’ll probably have to watch “Green Acres.” Or “The Green Mile.” Or “Anne of Green Gables.” Or “How Green Was My Valley?” Or “Soylent Green.” Or “Harold and Kumar go to White Castle.”
• If dinner is scheduled for 4 p.m., there’ll be those who will be very vocal about how much cooler it would be if it started at 4:20. Same holds true if dinner is scheduled for 2.
• The exotic deliciousness of a turducken might be overshadowed by its conceptual density. A chicken shoved in a duck shoved in a turkey? Whoa. That’s – that’s a lot to get your head around. Maybe I’ll just stick with the nachos for now.
• If you’re hosting a big gathering and have asked your guests to bring a pot-luck side dish, you’ll want to set up an additional table just for nachos. Also, anticipate the prolonged hilarity as each person arrives and announces how fitting it is that it’s a “pot” luck. “Get it? Pot luck! Pot?” This will become exponentially more tedious if someone brings green-bean casserole as their side.
• Coloradans. Coloradans. Am I even pronouncing it right? Coloradans.
(Coming soon: More post-election holiday refinements. Dreaming of a green Christmas. No, that’s not mistletoe, and these boughs that I’m decking the halls with are not holly.)