The New York Times recently published an article about baby boomers like your Mom and Dad lighting up again. While you may call it “blazing,” “smoking up,” or “getting high,” Ms. Neufer, the 65-year-old subject of the article calls it, “passing around doobies.” First things first, we could all learn a lesson in hospitality from Ms. Neufer, who prepares a joint for house guests in the article. In the case it’s someone’s birthday, she'll produce a bong; that's what I believe Luda was referring to with “Southern hospitality.”
From the generation that held the OG of Coachella, Woodstock, it’s no surprise that people your parents age are now re-visiting their glory pot smoking days. They're not ashamed to admit it, too, now that their kids have flown the cucko’s nest. Time to button up those Hawaiian shirts, have one last awkward office party to bid the corporate world farewell, and head to Florida, Palm Springs or some other warm destination that provides a good amount of Vitamin D for old bones to light up some bones and bask in the glory of retirement.
“Most of us are either retiring or are retired,’ Ms. Neufer said. ‘You don’t have to worry about your job knowing…”
In order to raise upstanding dubstep, gluten intolerant future leaders of America, the baby booms put the sesh on hold to set a good example for their kids, a.k.a. you and me. Fast-forward to our college graduation day where we pondered important questions about following our passions, including “Should I start my photography company? Should I downloaded a DJ program on my MacBook my parents bought me? Should develop an app for DJ-ing on my iPhone my parents bought me? Should pursue a comedy career or wait….Occupy Wall Street!” In a way, all of these things are eessentially extending college by calling it a “movement” and having mom and dad finance your organic, locally-grown Whole Foods meal ticket because you’re “part of somethin,” and this “somethin” means never getting off the family Verizon plan. If I were the parents of 20-somethings these days, I’d dust the cob webs off my old bong too.
“It also helps, perhaps, that most are empty nesters, no longer concerned with setting a good example for their children or having drugs within reach of minors.”
As the baby booms rip that bong, I imagine they start to question raising us on movies that instilled beliefs like “when you wish upon a star, your dreams come true,” — things that Disney employees had to come up with stoned. It's one of the highest thoughts I've ever heard: When you wish upon a star you’re fucking hundreds of years late, as it's been dead for years. Or “Hakuna Matata,” where we learned to go through life with no worries for the rest of our days… Disney was ahead of the curve on YOLO. Cue writing articles on a MacBook bought by my parents as a tool to help me “succeed.” Alice in Wonderland? I don’t need to elaborate, but any movie that gets re-made with Johnny Depp is guaranteed instant stoner classic; call it the stoner bump, if you willl. Lastly, “if you can dream it, you can do it?” The ultimate trophy generation thought. I’ve dreamt of doing Kate Upton on the reg, and I can honestly say I will never do that, on any level, and there’s no app for that
“And anecdotal evidence points to much of this use being sociable rather than medical.”
In the New York Times article, Ms. Neufer plays the Beach Boys, Zepplin and the Beatles at her gatherings, which of course we dabble in as they are what we call “classics.” It’s simple, it’s music, because “if music be the food of love, play on.” I thought Luda said this, but it was Shakespeare. In retrospect, Luda would’ve said “grub of love,” but that is why they call him the modern day Shakespeare. Only difference now is we can talk about music via Twitter, Instagram, Facebook etc., which “brings us together,” but can also distract us from the moment. If you’re watching an entire set through a Nashville filter – that’s an ish. As someone who probably caught Peter Frampton live before he “came alive,” Ms. Neufer would scold you and tell you that what #lategram is for. Here’s a doobie, or wait, is it your birthday?
Your parents are probably smoking up in this crowd…
Weather the lo-cal is the middle of Tennessee, the California desert – or upstate New York, people of our generation are there – because Hakuna Matata, fucking YOOOLLLLOOO. We are not a generation that does FOMO so damn well, we do everything possible to get there, even if that means overdrafting our account a few times. Thank God for that family plan because 4G LTE isn’t cheap. We’re not going to the middle of nowhere for the scenery; it’s the experience, the people you meet along the way, the social circles, the drum circles, which are now a bunch of people standing in a circle with their iPhones out activating the drum circle app while one guy grams it. it’s Ms. Neufer hosting a BBQ with steaks, doobies, and THC-fueled sing alongs. I’m guessing Hakuna Matata is on the set list. An experience that can’t be written about, only felt, experienced and remembered.
“It makes sense that the baby boom generation and people a little younger might be more casual and open about marijuana use; after all, they grew up in the ’60s and ’70s, when getting high was the norm.”
Totes the norm. I mean they have “boom” in their gen nickname, obvs this generation crushed it. They built their decade on going against the generation before theirs and redefining the norm so that it's about getting high and associating peace and love with weed, made to heal not to kill. Right on, Ms. Neufer, I feel like I'm in a drum circle right now. People looked at Rock n' Roll as “satanism,” I'd like to hear what those people think of Lil Wayne. Our parents may have a hard time understanding Kaskade or Young Jeezy, but that's the “new norm.” With each generation there’s a younger one rearin and ready to start a fuckin revolution. As ridiculous as Kale or dubstep might sound to the baby booms, they do know one thing, if there is passion, there is fire and that fire was always burnin. That's what keeps the world turnin and I can thank Billy Joel for summing that up for me.
At the very least we'll some great Tweets to show for whatever we do in the upcoming years, I can't go a day without know what at least 5 people had for lunch because of their posts on Instagram. We can reminisce our statuses that got the most likes as we light up doobies and listen to the music of our times like, gulp, “Call Me Maybe.” As Ms. Neufer so eloquently puts it:
“It’s like as you get older, it’s not something you do all the time, but you still do it. It’s still something you like. It still makes you feel good.”
Ms. Nuefter, should you and the Grannies for Grass/Moms for Marijuana International ever be holding a conference or sesh in the NY area, I’d be honored to join.
Bowl and pot photo via Shutterstock
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