As if the Grass was Pleased

As a professor of mine recently noted, "Marijuana is a plant of the earth. Who are we to deny people what the earth has given to us?" The people of Massachusetts may be on to something.

So might the people of Connecticut, though unfortunately, our elected officials have yet to similarly step on board. Whereas our governor recently vetoed a bill that would have relaxed state penalties regarding the possession or use of marijuana, especially for medicinal purposes, Massachusetts state law has declared possession or use of the substance to be no more than a minor civil offense, not to be put on a criminal record, and subject to no more than a one hundred dollar fine.

This might explain the sickly sweet smell that pervades the hallways of certain UMass dormitories throughout the weekend, oftentimes mingled with the scent of copious amounts of Febreeze and the occasional Glade plug-in. Unlike the stench of cheap beer and cheaper liquor, this former scent is accompanied neither by unfortunate episodes of non-residents vomiting on our (carpeted) dorm hallway floors, nor by inexplicable bursts of hysterical crying or group efforts to try hauling a semi-unconscious stranger into the shower to at least rinse out his or her hair and clothes. Instead, its a scent that typically heralds the inevitably numerous group hugs in the hallways or night-long marathons of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" and C-SPAN. Lounging around with a super-sized bag of Doritos and watching Animal Planet suddenly becomes a far more appealing plan than the idea of getting up, dressing up, and going out. Why not hunker down, break out the stores of snack foods, and crowd a solid two dozen people into one unfortunately small dorm room because, really? Just pass the chips, "Growing Up Giraffe" is on.