A new study seems to suggest that the main ingredient in pot can act as a barrier to Alzheimer's disease by keeping the neurotransmitters from misfiring. Noone is saying we should all start lighting up but that researchers can use this ingredient or something like it to create a new treatment. I'm all for a new Alzheimer's drug that actually works, unlike what's on the market now, so let's get going. And hurry it up--I'm not getting younger. Neither is my husband, and both of us lost our fathers to the miserable disease.
I never did smoke the marijuana--or pot or weed or whatever the kids are calling it. I did see a joint once, though, when my art class buddy flashed one he was storing in his wallet. We were great friends, whatever his name was, until he ran away to Florida with his pregnant girl friend. I knew her from marching band, and I had to fill in her cymbal spot while she went missing. But still, I never smoked pot myself.
When I think of how I towed the line in school, how I spent my free time playing the piano and the French horn and reading books instead of going to parties--you don't get invited to too many parties when your happiest times are spent reading A Tale of Two Cities all curled up on the sofa with a Reader's Digest recording of Chopin playing on the console--I think that there is a trade off to just about everything. I behaved in school, and now I may grow old to put grapes in the dishwasher because I have forgotten the purpose of the big appliance on the other side of the kitchen. I spent hours working through Claire de Lune back then so that in the future I can stare at myself in the mirror and say, "Who the hell is that?" I'll be flipping light switches on and off for thirty minutes and flushing toilets just to watch the water swirl.
So, get to work on that new improved drug, I don't care if it means you have to inject marijuana directly into a capsule. And I don't care if it means we all have to go underground and hide the little pills in a secret compartment in our wallets so the teacher won't see. The future doesn't look so bright for some of us, and if need be, I'm willing to see what it is I missed in the 10th grade while I was memorizing Moonlight Sonata instead of sitting on the picnic tables at the park with the potheads.
I never did smoke the marijuana--or pot or weed or whatever the kids are calling it. I did see a joint once, though, when my art class buddy flashed one he was storing in his wallet. We were great friends, whatever his name was, until he ran away to Florida with his pregnant girl friend. I knew her from marching band, and I had to fill in her cymbal spot while she went missing. But still, I never smoked pot myself.
When I think of how I towed the line in school, how I spent my free time playing the piano and the French horn and reading books instead of going to parties--you don't get invited to too many parties when your happiest times are spent reading A Tale of Two Cities all curled up on the sofa with a Reader's Digest recording of Chopin playing on the console--I think that there is a trade off to just about everything. I behaved in school, and now I may grow old to put grapes in the dishwasher because I have forgotten the purpose of the big appliance on the other side of the kitchen. I spent hours working through Claire de Lune back then so that in the future I can stare at myself in the mirror and say, "Who the hell is that?" I'll be flipping light switches on and off for thirty minutes and flushing toilets just to watch the water swirl.
So, get to work on that new improved drug, I don't care if it means you have to inject marijuana directly into a capsule. And I don't care if it means we all have to go underground and hide the little pills in a secret compartment in our wallets so the teacher won't see. The future doesn't look so bright for some of us, and if need be, I'm willing to see what it is I missed in the 10th grade while I was memorizing Moonlight Sonata instead of sitting on the picnic tables at the park with the potheads.
Comments
If it's (weed) a cure or even help with Alzheimer's then "bring it on" let them start sparking em up in the nursing homes.
Very ironic... my wife was much like you as a kid.. stayed home studied all the time and look who she ended up with. HAH!!
she told me she has a soft spot for bad boys..