An Afghanistan/Iraq vet faces a life sentence for less than an ounce. Thanks, Oklahoma.

The Good
Oregon has joined Alaska, Colorado, D.C., and our own great state in the Brotherhood of Ganja, officially legalizing marijuana on July 1. In several ways, the Oregonians are doing it better than us, allowing home grows (four plants each), setting the tax at 17 percent (as compared to our newly lowered but still obnoxious 37 percent excise tax), expunging the records of those with cannabis convictions, and even letting citizens fly with weed within the state. Oregon also allows the most pot per person of any of the legal states: up to half a pound of Grade A herb (eight ounces) as compared to our paltry single-ounce (or 28-gram) limit. Adults 21 and over can carry up to an ounce of cannabis and have a pound of edibles in their homes, as well as 72 ounces of cannabis-infused liquids. To get a sense of how much weed you can possess, the Portland Police Bureau’s handy reference guide compares chronic quantities to the city’s famous Voodoo donuts.

As for buying weed at a retail outlet: Not so fast, Portlandia. Because of bureaucratic red tape (green tape?), Oregon’s recreational stores may not be up and running until fall 2016. Governor Kate Brown is considering signing a law that would allow sales of recreational cannabis by existing medical dispensaries to begin October 1. Of course, Rose City residents are always welcome in Rain City if they’re running low in the meantime. Visitors will have to smoke all their legal ganja before they head back to P-Town, however: Ya can’t bring cannabis across state lines in either direction.

The Bad
Rush Limbaugh. Just the mention of his name can make you throw up in your mouth a little bit. The Great Bloated Reefer Madness Fiend was at it again last month on his why-is-this-still-on-the-air radio show.

“I don’t have any experience with this so I’m unable to render an opinion,” said Limbaugh. “Maybe I should go smoke some and find out what this is all about and be able to render an . . . [indecipherable mumbling]Oh, yeah, eat a brownie. That’s what ‘wake and bake’ means, right? Yeah, there’s an NFL player who had a Snapchat or Instagram post. He woke up and he’s all happy, and said, ‘Time to wake and bake,’ and somebody said, ‘Wow, that guy does the weed.’ So that’s what wake and bake means. Bake some cookies or brownies, I guess. Have you had them? . . . [heavy breathing]What do they taste like? . . . [more gasping, munching sounds]I do wonder what they taste like.”

OK, a few notes and we’ll move on. First, “waking and baking” is not about edibles—“baking” is a reference to adding a heated element, such as fire, to cannabis, then inhaling through a device. Secondly, the “waking” part of a wake ’n’ bake, in stoner’s parlance, means rising each morning and taking a hit off a pipe or bong. Lastly, Mr. Limbo, I highly suggest, if you truly haven’t already, trying some of the wacky weed. Unlike the oxycodone you so covet, it’s not addictive, and might even calm you while the last of your rapidly dwindling minions abandon your show.

The Very Ugly
It bears repeating that, until marijuana is legalized federally, hundreds of thousands of Americans will continue to be arrested for possession of the plant, and our veterans and loved ones will not have access to its medicinal properties.

In our least favorite state, Oklahoma, Marine veteran Kris Lewandowski is facing a life sentence for possession of less than an ounce of weed—which he was using to help cope with PTSD. Lewandowski, who served three combat tours of duty that included stints in Afghanistan and Iraq (thank you for your service), was attempting to wean himself off a fistful of pharmaceuticals that he’d been prescribed for a variety of ailments, including severe PTSD after being honorably and medically discharged from the Marine Corps.

In June 2014, neighbors called the police after Lewandowski had what his wife described as a PTSD flare-up. Comanche County sheriff’s deputies responded to a report that Lewandowski had been chasing his wife with a knife. Cops searched the house, finding six small cannabis plants that did not total a single ounce; in Oklahoma, that’s bad news no matter how many tours you’ve served. Among other offenses, including a disputed domestic-violence charge, the war veteran and father of three was charged with felony marijuana possession and cultivation, and could potentially serve a life sentence under Oklahoma’s draconian weed laws.

Both Kris and his wife Whitney were arrested and charged with felonies, and were told their children were being taken to Child Protective Services. The police told Whitney her kids could avoid that fate—and she’d avoid the felony charge—if she pressed assault charges. Though she opposes the domestic-violence charge, she understandably took the deal. “They’re trying to use me as a victim and to make it look worse on his case,” said Whitney in an interview with Truth in Media. “My husband has absolutely never laid his hands on me ever. He is not an abusive man, ever . . . quite the opposite. He is extremely doting.”

Since the arrest, the family packed up and moved to California (with the Oklahoma DAs approval), where Kris legally obtained a medical-marijuana card to treat his PTSD. After inadvertently missing a court date—while under supervision at a Veterans Administration psych hospital!—Lewandowski was arrested in a guns-drawn raid as he was picking up his kids from preschool. The veteran is currently in police custody at the Orange County Jail, where he awaits extradition to Oklahoma to face his charges. There’s a GoFundMe campaign for those wishing to help with the family’s legal defense, as well as a Weed for Warriors Project. Lewandowski’s next hearing is scheduled for July 22. #SupportOurTroops.

UPDATE (July 20, 2015):
According to the Weed for Warriors project, all felony charges have been dropped against Marine veteran Kris Lewandowski, he has been released from jail, and the remaining charges have been transferred to veteran’s court. Lewandowski had been charged with marijuana possession which he had been growing to treat his PTSD. Under Oklahoma’s sentencing guidelines, he potentially could have served life in prison for the possession and cultivation of cannabis.

Shooting down a few anti-legalization arguments.

“They’re talking about opening a weed stand, or whatever, right next to my kids’ school,” the woman began, reaching for a plastic cup of wine during ArtWalk. “I mean, they’re already getting drunk. Now this will make a second thing we’re allowing for!”

I gently reminded her that both of those things were illegal for minors, but she would have none of it.

“Seriously. The parties they go to are beyond,” she said, gazing at an out-of-this-world painting on the gallery wall. “From eighth grade on, there is alcohol at most of their socials. That’s already happening. So to add another drug that can mess up their minds . . . ”

I understood the fear she was experiencing. Parenting is terrifying. I get it; I had a teenage daughter once. (Good lord.) But one way to alleviate some of the fear about our kids having sex or smoking dope or getting shot on the playground is by clarifying some of the misinformation and having open dialogue. (That’s the theory.)

“To be honest, I’d rather have my kid on weed than alcohol, ma’am.” She was only a few years older than me, but we hadn’t been properly introduced. “I mean, alcohol kills 46,000 people a year, prescription drug ODs kill another 17,000. And let’s not forget cigarettes!” (440,000 deaths a year.) “And so when it comes to these kids drinking and driving or smoking and driving . . . I’d prefer they had cannabis.”

Jesus. I’d wanted to come off as even-handed and open-minded, and now I was advocating that the youngsters hotbox in their daddy’s Chevrolet.

“Do you have kids!?” she inquired. “It’s hard enough. I mean, the store is going to be right there. At the foot of the school!”

I didn’t want to get into the specifics of her increasingly incoherent argument—in Washington state, recreational shops must be at least 1,000 feet from schools, playgrounds, libraries, game arcades, public-transit centers, or parks. But I did feel the need to make one point.

“I’m sorry, miss—what was your name?”

“Jane.”

“Hi, Jane. Can I call you Mary Jane?” (Blank stare.) “I’m kidding. Listen, I totally agree that we should try to keep drugs away from young people.” I felt myself go into talking-points mode, but I couldn’t stop. “And I know this seems counterintuitive, but teen drug use has gone down in the states where it’s legal. That’s just a fact.”

I knew right when it came out of my mouth that it was too preachy, but I’ve learned a few things writing this column. One is that kids don’t know shit about cannabis, other than that it is, and always has been, easy to get. A new 2014 Health Use Survey shows that a significant number of 10th and 12th graders don’t believe there are risks in weekly marijuana use. (On this, they’re obviously pinheads—pot is not great for the developing brain.) It also found that parents were also clueless: Only 57 percent knew the legal age of recreational weed (as compared to 71 percent of kids), and only 63 percent understood you’re not allowed to grow it at home.

“Why make matters worse?” she railed, spilling chardonnay on my shoes. “There are already so many drugs: They take Ecstasy and prescription pills! I’m telling you—what I heard is that they walk right in and order, like a Starbucks or something.”

“Thing is, Jane, recreational-marijuana stores are not selling to high-school kids. They’re just like bars—they don’t want to get shut down for not checking IDs. Besides, whoever is selling your kid a bag of weed behind the Port-a-Pottys at Lakeside is not going to be asking if they’re 21, and there won’t be a warning label listing the THC levels.”

We stared at a painting that could have been a giant bong or a lovely vase—it kind of depended on your perspective.

“The new stuff is just so much stronger, you can OD on it,” she said with a smile-ish smirk that made me want to hug-strangle her. “I read something in the paper about synthetic marijuana killing these kids at a party in Florida.”

“Yes, and they should stop calling it marijuana. AstroTurf would be a better name, because it’s not really marijuana. Jane, there are all kinds of deadly drugs out there, but pot’s never killed anyone. Not one person.”

I was going to ask her if she’d ever tried cannabis, but could tell I’d already pushed her personal boundaries. “Have you talked to your . . . daughter, is it? About weed?” I asked meekly. “About marijuana?”

Her eyebrows would have gone higher if they could have. “Talked? To her about pot?! What would we say? I mean, she knows we don’t approve.”

“That’s great! A recent study from the UW showed that kids listen to their parents more than anyone else—even their own friends. And the ones who know their parents disapprove are way less likely to try pot.”

“Well that’s good, I guess,” she replied, looking me in the eye for the first time.

“The other thing is that talking to kids about weed works better than punishment.” A raised eyebrow. “In this study [from the UW’s School of Social Work], students who got suspended after smoking pot kept smoking pot. But if the kid gets sent to a counselor, they’re 50 percent less likely to smoke!”

“I assume you get stoned.”

I pulled the wine bottle out of the tub of ice. “I use all kinds of legal drugs, Jane,” I said, topping us off. “Takes the edge off of being a grown-up . . . ”

This article first appeared in the Seattle Weekly.

Comparing pot use to something else that’s none of the government’s business.

Before I launch into this analogy, I would like to say that I understand how many will find it inappropriate, and that I came up with the notion while stoned out of my mind.

I’m starting to think about cannabis as having a similar journey and backstory to Olympic gold medalist and transgender reality star Caitlyn Jenner. Until recently, like Jenner, trailblazers on the weed front have organized in secret closets and basements, hoping one day to live safely, truthfully, and freely in the great wide open. And, like Jenner, marijuana—aka Mary Jane—has been an accomplished, harmless, and friendly sexpot all along . . . but has recently undergone a full makeover and is beginning to dress things up with PR campaigns, professional packaging, couture oils, and all-important accessories.

Let’s start with the name. Bruce took the name Caitlyn (notice her refusal to use the letter K—as in Kris, Khloe, Kourtney, Kendall, and Kimye) to reflect her change (and independence). Marijuana, on the other hand, has reverted back to cannabis, after being identified first as marihuana, then bad-mouthed with slurs such as loco weed, grass, pot, killer bud, the Devil’s weed, dope, schwagg, even shit (as in “THE shit”). Antidrug propaganda created “marihuana” in the 1930s—a sad attempt to scare the public with a “new” and terrifying substance (used by jazz musicians!), even though the plant had been sold in pharmacies for over a half-century in America. Marihuana sounded “foreign” (read: Hispanic), and Reefer Madness was used to incite fear, round up immigrants (especially during the Great Depression), and scare the masses to outlaw it. (By 1931, cannabis was illegal in 29 states, and in 1937 it was criminalized through the Marijuana Tax Act.)

The legal documents for the new Ms. Jenner’s identity will be challenging. It can take months for name- and gender-change applications to be approved (what I wouldn’t give to be in the DMV line that day), and these ID docs—often requiring background checks—affect everything from bank accounts to Social Security cards, to say nothing of her Twitter handle. Similarly, those in the cannabis community have had challenges of their own: States requiring medical-marijuana patients to sign a registry (including Washington) are forcing them to admit to a felony at the federal level, clearly in violation of HIPAA laws. For canna-businesses, both dispensaries and recreational stores have been unable to utilize banking and insurance services for fear of criminal investigations, while at the same time navigating massive tax payments to the IRS.

Sadly, anyone in the LGBT community is butting up against conservative moralists, gender assumptions, and entrenched cultural ideals on a daily basis. The process of cannabis’ conversion has been similarly dramatic and life-altering—going from the tyranny of the War on Drugs to only recently being accepted and fully legalized in four states. It’s as if the subject has lived two entirely separate lives.

As with one’s sexuality, your use of cannabis doesn’t affect anyone else. It’s a private matter (that is, until I Am Cait airs on E! in August), and one your employer, and the government, should have no say or stake in. While it’s been argued otherwise (as in Elinor Burkett’s New York Times article “What Makes a Woman”), Jenner’s transition doesn’t undermine feminism or women’s identities, it doesn’t challenge masculinity, it is not immoral, and it doesn’t hurt others. Correspondingly, ganja doesn’t hurt others—that is, unless you’re hot-boxing or too stoned to drive (or, in Jenner’s case, haven’t had experience driving in high heels and crash while avoiding paparazzi). Pot also doesn’t undermine the other legal drugs you may be drinking, smoking, or popping.

Fighting gender stereotypes and stoner stereotypes, of course, are not the same. Being a pothead is a choice, while Jenner’s identity is baked in, so to speak, a part of her biology (though surgery, plastic or otherwise, is not a requirement). But just as transitioning individuals must be taken seriously and their choices respected, those who partake of cannabis need their rights recognized. Sadly, many parents have their children taken from them for marijuana use (including medicinal), while others lose their jobs; veterans with PTSD cannot access it for relief; and over 650,000 citizens a year lose their freedom when arrested for marijuana-related offenses.

The opposition to Jenner has been fierce, phobic, and ridiculous. (A campaign is underway to take away Jenner’s 1976 Olympic Gold medal in the men’s decathlon.) When a man becomes a woman, it’s a complex issue that may take some explanation, patience, and, above all, tolerance and compassion. The legalization movement is also locked in debate, full of nuances, ignorant tirades, continuing arrests, and Washington’s own version of medal take-aways: Despite legalization’s convincing statewide victory, hundreds of city councils are banning marijuana in their jurisdictions.

Times are changing. Just as Jenner went from Wheaties cover boy to Vanity Fair cover girl, cannabis has gone from “The Marihuana Menace: Assassin of Youth” to this month’s scientific centerfold in National Geographic. In the end, both Caitlyn and cannabis are elevating the dialogue—about personal truths, the right to choose your own path and be legally recognized and protected, and what it means to be free.