Up in Smoke: House to Vote on Lifting Federal Ban on Pot

This week the House of Representatives will bring the MORE (Marijuana Opportunity, Reinvestment and Expungement) Act to the floor for a vote. The legislation would lift the federal prohibition on marijuana.

Never has there been a more maligned drug than marijuana. The designation of cannabis as a Schedule I drug in 1971 had a major impact on the already existing bias against pot. President Richard Nixon pressed for the designation in an attempt to smack down the antiwar left and perpetuate institutional racism that plagues Black Americans to this day. According to the American Civil Liberties Union, a Black person is 3.6 times more likely to get arrested for marijuana possession than a white person, despite similar usage rates.

The National Commission on Marijuana and Drug Abuse was Nixon’s modus operandi for manufacturing ‘science’ to support the Schedule I designation of pot, making it equal to heroin as a dangerous substance. At the time, Nixon was infamously recorded on tape, saying, “I want a goddamn strong statement on marijuana. Can I get that out of this ‘son of a bitching, uh, domestic council? … I mean one on marijuana that just tears the ass out of them.”

Nixon wasn’t solely to blame for the unwarranted federal prohibition of marijuana. Decades before his war on weed, Congress passed the Marijuana Tax Act of 1937. The law restricted possession of cannabis by levying a substantial tax on it for certain medical and industrial applications.

“Congress being what it was at the time,” said American Medical Association (AMA) counsel William Woodward, “you could ram things through just by bullshitting. Who’s going to be stepping up to the plate to defend a drug that Blacks, Latinos and jazz musicians use?”

Clearly racism played a role. Historian Martin Lee, author of Smoke Signals: A Social History of Marijuana, writes in his book, “In segregated America newspapers were saying, ‘this stuff makes white women and black men have sex.’” Despite AMA’s position that cannabis was medically useful, it was removed from the official U.S. Pharmacopeia in 1942.

Two years later, the New York Academy of Medicine issued the La Guardia Committee report, which found marijuana was not physically addictive, not a gateway drug and did not lead to crime. Since then, a growing body of information clearly supports the Committee’s finding that marijuana is neither a dangerous substance nor a gateway drug, and that is has a number of medical uses. The Mayo Clinic lists the following conditions that may be treated with marijuana:

• Alzheimer’s disease
• Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS)
• HIV/AIDS
• Cancer
• Crohn’s disease
• Epilepsy and seizures
• Glaucoma
• Multiple sclerosis and muscle spasms
• Severe and chronic pain
• Severe nausea

Moreover, anthropological and archaeological evidence supports that cannabis has been used as a medicine for thousands of years.

This week, when the MORE Act comes to the House floor for a vote, the members of Congress have an opportunity to pass what the ACLU calls equitable reform. “This is the most comprehensive marijuana reform bill in Congress,” the ACLU states. “Not only would it remove marijuana from the Controlled Substances Act, but it would also expunge marijuana convictions and re-sentence people with marijuana convictions. It is long overdue to not just legalize marijuana, but do so in a way that tackles racial disparities head-on. The MORE Act will do exactly that.”

In the interests of equitable reform, it’s high time for the members of the House to do the right thing by acknowledging the overwhelming body of scientific and social scientific evidence that cries out for passage of the MORE Act, and voting accordingly. We can all play a role by reaching out to our representative in Congress and telling him or her to pass the MORE Act now.

Fear and Loathing in New Jersey

Note: My post was previously published as a guest column in the Star-Ledger and NJ.com.

Cape May New Jersey is an idyllic seaside town. Its streets are lined with 19^th Century Victorian structures where bumper stickers proclaim, “Exit 0.” It is a special place with beautiful beaches, boating, fishing, great restaurants and bars, live music, the list goes on and on. You can kick back and watch the world go by for a day or a whole summer. But even in this tucked-away oasis, the fear and loathing that has the country in its grip has reared its ugly head.

On a recent summer day, that charm and quaint character turned ugly, reminding us yet again of the widening divide that exists among Americans. A couple, who are long-time visitors to Cape May, stopped at the outdoor bar at Elaine’s for refreshment. Located in the center of town, Elaine’s is something of a Cape May institution with its long-running dinner theater, lodging, and indoor and outdoor bars.

One thing led to another – a series of events documented by David Todd McCarthy in The Standard – with the husband of Elaine’s owner shouting “get the fu-k out of here” at the couple, who were accompanied by their 16-year-old daughter and her boyfriend. All because the husband mentioned he was going to vote for Joe Biden.

It didn’t stop there. The couple was again accosted by the owner’s husband in a threatening way as they left. McCarthy reports in his account that the man went “ballistic,” the F-bombs flying fast and furious. He followed the couple to the parking lot and continued to speak threateningly to them as they retreated. They got in their car and left.

In a civilized society there is no place for this type of behavior, for which the owner’s husband later apologized. Yet, the most troubling aspect of the incident isn’t his behavior. It is the outpouring of support he received from patrons at the bar and, later, online, who found it perfectly appropriate to scream profanities at someone because of their political leanings.

Where did all the intolerance and rage that has spread from “sea to shining sea,” including Cape May, come from? It’s tempting to blame Donald Trump, but he didn’t create the social ills that plague us. He has tapped into it and gone out of his way to stoke it. But in a larger sense, Mr. Trump unwittingly serves as a social mirror that reflects an ugly side of our collective soul; it is a reflection of what we can become, if we fail to listen to our better angels.

Surely the pandemic has also played a role, restricting our activities and interactions with each other and contributing to our collective angst. We will, in due course, develop therapeutics for the treatment of COVID-19 and vaccines to prevent it. But the social cancer that afflicts us is another matter. All of the high-minded slogans we learned in school, “United we stand, divided we fall,” “E pluribus Unum,” and such, are just that, slogans, if we don’t respect each other’s different points of view, regardless of whether we agree with them.

We need to learn how to disagree without being disagreeable. Otherwise, where does all the intolerance and rage go in five months or in four years when there is a new administration and, hopefully, the viral dust has settled? Maybe it just goes underground for a while, festering and rearing its ugly head when the timing and politics are right.

In these dark times, we need each other more than ever. How is it that so many of us seem to be missing this basic truth in the face of a pandemic that has killed thousands of us, a failing economy that may take decades to repair, and an ongoing assault on Black Americans by some in law enforcement?

There are no easy answers to the social ills that plague us, no therapeutic or vaccine that can provide a treatment or cure. Even in this tucked-away oasis in Cape May, there is fear and loathing as we struggle for an answer.

If only I knew then…

Every now and again you come across a photo that takes you back in time. When I came across on old photo of Henning’s fishing station in Atlantic Beach, NY, it took me all the way back to nine or 10 years of age.

My father used to rent a small boat at Henning’s, buy bait, usually live killies, and the two of us would spend an afternoon fishing in Reynolds Channel.

I hated baiting my hook with a live fish. Worse yet, there were days when we’d catch a blow fish or two and a clump of seaweed and I’d be bored as hell. An occasional eel would add some excitement.

Some days it seemed the sun beat down relentlessly on the two of us in that small boat, and I found myself wishing I was somewhere else. At the time I didn’t appreciate what really mattered … that my dad was spending time with me, and that spending time with someone is a way of saying, ‘I love you.’

If only I knew then what I know now.

Is Trump Conning Us About the Economic Impact of His Trade War?

According to data presented by Federal Reserve economists Justin Pierce and Aaron Flaaen in their recently released paper, Disentangling the Effects of the 2018-2019 Tariffs on a Globally Connected U.S. Manufacturing Sector, the answer appears to be yes, the president is conning us. Again.

Pierce, who holds a doctorate in economics from Georgetown University and Flaaen, who holds a doctorate in economics from University of Michigan, note that the type of increase in tariffs President Trump has levied on foreign imports to boost the economic sector are unprecedented, and for good reason.

According to Pierce and Flaaen, Trump’s trade war with our allies and China and the increase in tariffs on imports hurt manufacturing and cost American jobs. Since last year, they report, manufacturing output “declined noticeably and manufacturing employment growth has stalled.”

The economists also suggest the use of trade war tactics has led to an unintended consequence due to “the rapid expansion of globally interconnected supply chains, in which tariffs can have impacts through channels beyond their traditional effect of limiting import competition.”

All of which adds up to economic measures that were ill-conceived and not thought out. As a result, according to Pierce and Flaaen, they have been especially damaging to U.S. industries including motor vehicles, household appliances, a/v and computer equipment, aluminum sheet, iron and steel. And yet the president continues to insist the tariffs are a boon to American manufacturing.

While I defer to Drs. Pierce and Flaaen on the complexity of economics and its real-world application, an administration that implements major policies and programs without thoroughly thinking them through, including any and all potential unintended consequences, is downright dangerous. And you don’t need a Ph.D. to figure it out.

Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht

Tonight, the stars are set against a frigid background of blue. Every year at this time I feel a yearning and a wish for something that eludes me…something that eludes us.

Maybe it’s because this is the season of light when all things seem possible. Yet Earth, under our stewardship, has not fared well. She has suffered irreparable damage caused by our misguided perception of progress, fueled by ignorance and greed.  

Jesus said, “Whatever you do to my brethren you do to me.”  And yet so many of our brothers and sisters continue to suffer. Children, our most vulnerable and most in need of our care and protection, go to bed hungry and are abused in unspeakable ways. Wars are still waged in the name of who knows what?

But even in times of despair, we have shown ourselves to have the capacity to transcend our circumstances and embrace hope. I can’t think of more hopeful words than those first sung on Christmas in 1818 in a church in Obernforf, Austria: “Stille nacht, heilige nacht – Silent night, holy night.“

Father Joseph Mohr, who wrote the lyrics and Franz Gruber who composed the melody could not have known that their creation would ultimately be translated into 140 languages, and that it would shine as a beacon in a weary world for almost 200 hundred years, even during one of our darkest hours.

Almost a century after Silent Night was composed, World War I raged in Europe. On Christmas Eve in 1914, Silent Night was sung in French, German and English during a Christmas truce by troops facing each other on the front line. It was the one carol that the soldiers on both sides knew.

In that moment, men who had been mortal enemies hours earlier, put down their weapons and for a short time, shared the gift of hope. Hope, that the war would soon end. Hope that they would survive the conflict and return home to their loved ones.

This Christmas, my yearning for something that eludes me…eludes us, notwithstanding, I choose to focus on the transformative power of hope. I look with great expectation for the day, though I know it will not come in my lifetime, when a lasting truce is declared wherever there is ignorance and strife.

It will be a day when a lasting global truce is reached in the hearts of men and women around the world. A day when we lay down our ignorance, our hatred and our fears and embrace the gift of hope.

For me, that is the essence and the meaning of Christmas. “Stille nacht, heilige nacht.”  

November Rose

Finally, it was cold and there were scattered pockets of first frost. As I made my way along the Delaware River in the early morning, a dense fog hung over the swift-moving current and mystical elements of the natural world gradually revealed themselves.

A lone duck stayed close to shore near the place where the Aquetong Creek flows into the Delaware. Several miles upstream, where the creek springs forth from its subterranean source, there is a profound spiritual connection; the Aquetong Spring was sacred to the Leni Lenape Indians.   

I am drawn to the Delaware River in a way I cannot fully explain. That morning, as the fog began to lift, the river whispered to me: Everything you need is within you.

In such moments of clarity, I believe it is possible to connect with the Divine that is around and within us. Ernest Hemingway observed of nature, “It is what we have instead of religion.”

As the fog began to lift, I saw her standing defiant in the face of the coming winter: November rose, a reminder of nature’s eternal resilience. Spring will come again to the Delaware River Valley. There will be rebirth and renewal.

For now, the edge of winter approaches and the days grow shorter. But we need not “rage against the dying of the light.” Each season offers an opportunity to connect with our divine selves.

And so, I mark my time not in years but in the passing of the seasons, each with its own song, its own message. Evidence of the Divine and a brief, tantalizing glimpse of eternity. November rose.

All That Jazz in Cape May

It was a great escape to the Exit Zero Jazz Festival last weekend in Cape May, N.J. My mantra for the weekend was get away, get loose and get lost in the music. Politics and the mess in Washington magically disappeared from my radar screen for several days as I did just that and got lost in the music.

Held twice a year in the fall and spring, the Exit Zero Jazz Festival is a smorgasbord of jazz performed by an array of musicians at a mix of venues around town, from Carney’s, Sea Salt and the Rusty Nail to the Cape May Convention Hall.

The performers played with a shared passion that was contagious. Their intensity enabled you to feel the music in every cell in your body because when it’s good, really good, music takes you to another place. Jazz great Wynton Marsalis likened that passion to “sustained intensity,” which he said “equals ecstasy.”

Tim Price Jazz-a-Delic, New Breed Brass Band and C.L.A.F.F.Y. were among several groups we saw. Our table at Carney’s was close enough to Jazz-a-Delic that I could almost reach out and touch Price as he blew on his sax and electric bassoon.  

Price exemplifies the versatility and deep talent of the Exit Zero Jazz Festival musicians. He’s performed with jazz greats like Sonny Stitt, Jack McDuff, Don Patterson and Benny Green, as well as with rock and soul icons like Aretha Franklin, Chuck Berry, Ike Turner and Dr. John.

When Marsalis observed, “Jazz means working things out musically with other people,” he might have been talking about Price and the other Exit Zero Jazz Festival performers. “You have to listen to other musicians and play with them even if you don’t agree with what they’re playing…,” Marsalis said. “It teaches you that the world is big enough to accommodate us all.”

New Breed Brass Band has its roots in the culture of New Orleans – five of the band’s founding members are New Orleans natives – and performed an alchemy of funk, rock, jazz and hip hop with amazing energy. The group is a past recipient of the OffBeat Magazine Music and Cultural Arts Foundation’s Best Emerging Artist Award.

C.L.A.F.F.Y. is led by bassist and composer Alex Claffy, who has been described by JAZZIZ Magazine as a bassist with “…an ear for timeless melodies — regardless of genre or era — and he engages with them with originality and unbridled creativity.” Claffy has performed in Europe and is a regular at Smalls Jazz Club in Greenwich Village, where he’s next appearing on Nov. 21. 

The festival also featured well-known performers including Manhattan Transfer, David Sanborn and John Oates. And the Atlantic Ocean, with its pounding surf and cool wind blowing in off the beach, formed the perfect backdrop.

Price described the Exit Zero Jazz Festival as encompassing “…genres of music that all move together. The festival is made up of a lot of stuff, which is what jazz is all about.” A lot of stuff indeed, to which I would add, and about teaching us “…the world is big enough to accommodate us all.”

Jake

Tonight, at sunset, Barb and I spread Jake’s ashes in a nearby field where he used to run. One year ago, today, our boy made his way to the Rainbow Bridge where, it is said, he will wait for us. As we scattered Jake’s remains in the wind, all of the feelings and emotion I’d been holding in these last 12 months poured out.

The truth is, before Jake, I hadn’t been much of a dog person. It had taken no small amount of coaxing by my wife to persuade me we should have a dog in our lives. Now, I can’t imagine how I got along without him. I am forever grateful to Barb for bringing this gentle, lovable and goofy dog, who became my friend and teacher, into my life.

I cherish the memory of Jake not so much for what he taught me, but for how he made me feel – unconditionally loved. He constantly reminded me that in the grand scheme of things, fortune and fame are of little importance and that what matters is how we make each other feel.

At times when my mind would fill with racing thoughts, his quiet presence spoke volumes about being centered and stilling the mind. He cared not a whit about yesterday and even less about tomorrow. It was all about being fully present in the moment.

One of his greatest joys, aside from chomping on pizza crust, was chasing rabbits. He ran after them at a frenzied gallop with his ears flying in the wind. The fact that in 12 years he never caught one mattered not. It was the thrill of the chase that sparked him; it was the journey and not the destination.

Jake also reinforced something I have always known but sometimes forget. Nature is our greatest source of healing and happiness. He loved the outdoors and delighted in traversing woods and fields. Jake taught me about the nature of unconditional loyalty. He was by my side through thick and thin, in times of joy and times of sadness. He was always eager to share my joy and never failed to lean into me and comfort me in times of duress.

I will forever remember how Jake made me feel. His was pure love. Maybe there is a Rainbow Bridge and Jake will be waiting for me. One thing I know for sure is that I am a far better person for having had Jake in my life. He was a dear friend and an uncommon teacher.

Rediscovering Our Timeless Selves

What did you do as a child that created timelessness, that made you forget time? There lies the myth to live by.  – Joseph Campbell

As children we moved through time effortlessly, as if the constraints of time that bound adults did not apply to us. When we freely associate with that thought, one of the words that comes to mind is freedom. Freedom from the responsibilities that we would learn to take on in time as we grew to adulthood. Freedom from the stresses that in later years would become our constant companions. Freedom to be fully present in the moment because our minds were uncluttered.

Then we started school and suddenly time mattered. Getting to school on time. Completing work assignments on time. Being on time for the school bus. Getting to soccer practice or ballet lessons on time. We studied language and science, history and mathematics, subjects that would inform our ability to be productive and contributing members of society. Invaluable knowledge, indeed, even as our minds were becoming cluttered.

As our ‘timeless selves’ matured on the road to adulthood, time became our master, and with good cause. After all, no one would argue whether time is of the essence when a surgeon operates on a trauma patient whose life hangs in the balance, or when a pilot makes important last-minute adjustments before safely landing a flight with several hundred passengers.

So how do we answer Joseph Campbell’s question, what made us forget about time when we were children? I’m reminded of the story about two scientists who visited a Buddhist monk to pose questions they found perplexing.

The monk offered the scientists tea and proceeded to pour it until their cups were overflowing. Puzzled, the scientists pointed out that their teacups were overflowing. The monk agreed and told them their minds were like the teacups, filled to overflowing, and that they should empty their minds and then return with their questions.  

Campbell’s myth of timelessness isn’t about avoiding life’s responsibilities and educating and preparing ourselves to reach our full human potential. It is about rediscovering the sacred place within ourselves that is timeless and that we frequented as children. It is a place that does not exist in yesterday or tomorrow; it exists only in today. We reach it by clearing our minds of all the clutter that has accumulated over the years, being fully present in the here and now, a place where, happily, we forget time, however briefly.    

Is Senator Harris Playing the Race Card?

Senator Kamala Harris has impressive credentials, from her years of experience as a state attorney general and prosecutor and her more recent tenure in the U.S. Senate, to her track record of accomplishments in civil and consumer rights and a number of other areas. In addition, Harris by all accounts looks to be a person of exceeding integrity. Until recently, @KamalaHarris was among my top choices for president.

But then she attacked former Vice President Joe Biden in the recent presidential debate about a position he took more than 30 years ago on busing, a tool used to desegregate schools that was a temporary solution to the practice of redlining. @JoeBiden is on record as being a lifelong supporter of integration. He just didn’t think busing was a good way to achieve it in the 1970s and 1980s.

As it happens, Biden’s position on busing was hardly out of step with the overwhelming majority of Americans. An article in The New York Times reported, “Polling in the 1970s found only single-digit support for the practice.”

Today we face a number of formidable challenges, not the least of which is global warming. One of our major adversaries was found by our intelligence agencies to have interfered in our last presidential election. Gun violence in the U.S. is out of control, white supremacists are making a comeback and health care costs continue to go up.

Why then, when Sen. Harris had a forum for addressing these and other pressing matters, did she spend valuable time during the debate making an issue out of something Biden espoused more than 30 years ago? Was she attempting to divert attention from her own policy positions on issues of vital importance, or a lack thereof, or was she playing the race card, despite her assertion that she doesn’t believe Biden is a racist?

Biden’s position on civil rights over the past four decades is anything but that of a racist. Our first African American president not only chose him to be his vice president, but over their years in the White House referred to him as “brother” and “friend.” Yet Harris still felt Biden’s decades old position on busing is relevant today.

She also took issue with recent comments by Biden about being able to find common ground with segregationist senators in order to work with them on important legislation. Biden’s comments have been repeatedly taken out of context, including by Harris. After the last debate, I began having doubts whether Harris is a viable candidate.

Meanwhile, divisiveness in America has metastasized since 2016. It is imperative the Democratic party nominates a candidate who eschews language that divides us, initiates public discourse on the important issues facing us today, and goes head-to-head with Donald Trump and beats him.

In the last few days Harris announced a plan to spend $100 billion to close the racial home ownership gap by providing federal grants to help families in redline communities with closing costs. I’m all for closing the wealth gap between low- and high-income Americans. But if Harris has advanced a viable way to raise $100 billion for that purpose, I must have missed her tweet.

Busing and spending $100 billion to close the racial home ownership gap aside, the Democratic candidates for president have an opportunity and an obligation to focus on major issues of the day. They have an opportunity to do it in a way that is thoughtful and civil. There is nothing to be gained from attacking each other, which only serves to render Donald Trump’s reelection more likely. There is everything to be gained from a considered discourse on policy.

Harris may or may not be playing the race card, but she has cast a shadow of doubt over the viability of her candidacy and her ability to beat the incumbent.