MARIJUANA ISSUE CONFUSING ME

What's the big deal about a little testosterone deficit and a touch
of testicular cancer as long as reefer madness generates a happy buzz?

That's the latest scare surfacing in the media. Studies claim to show
a reduction in testosterone levels, plus a 70 percent increase in
chances of testicular cancer, and an increased risk of lung cancer
among those who smoke marijuana.

But the studies may be exaggerated, just like those scary old movies
about reefer madness. Marijuana may be the recreational drug of
choice. Better and safer than alcohol, as some would claim.

It appears we'll be seeing less of champion swimmer Michael Phelps
for the next three months. Kids won't spot Phelps' face on Kellogg's
cereal boxes once the current inventory runs out.

Some partisans are advocating a boycott of Kellogg products. They
insist the company blundered by dropping Phelps' endorsement of their
munchy cereals.

It's an unfortunate situation, of course. Nice young man. Real
achiever. Michigan grad (Go Blue). Made a costly mistake by sticking
his mug into a bong for benefit of the camera. Hopefully we'll see
Phelps splashing in something more buoyant than hot water three
months from now.

My hesitation about marijuana may be the result of cultural
deprivation. I simply don't know enough people who are heavy into
marijuana to make a reliable judgment about the real benefits of
using it, whether for medicinal or for recreational purposes.

A concerned neighbor once asked about identifying some
suspicious-looking plants growing in our adjacent backyards. She was
worried what the neighborhood kids might be up to.

They were tall plants with distinctly palmate leaves divided into
five sharply-toothed leaflets. That's a fair match to the appearance
of Cannabis sativa -- commonly called marijuana.

Based on things learned from Professor Ed Voss in a systematic botany
class many years ago, the plant in question appeared to be a harmless
specimen of Potentilla simplex, better known as cinquefoil, a common
backyard weed hereabouts. Cinquefoil may indeed resemble marijuana
more closely than many other local weeds.

I must admit, if marijuana had gotten better press back in the days
of my early youth, we might have tried stuffing some dried cinquefoil
leaves into our corncob pipes. With what result, I cannot guess. But
not good, I think. Kids fascinated with the adventures of Tom Sawyer
and Huckleberry Finn were known to try all kinds of stupid things.

My problem is, I don't personally know anyone who has benefited
without question by using marijuana. That's where cultural
deprivation enters in. In fact, the very few marijuana users with
whom I'm personally acquainted have more likely suffered rather than
benefited from it.

There was a neighbor back in grad school days who claimed that
marijuana allowed him to relax after a hard day in class. He
considered some puffs of marijuana preferable to a beer or a shot of
whiskey. According to him, using marijuana allowed him to shake off
its effects and awaken quickly if called back to work during the
night. He was finishing his residency at the University of Michigan
Medical Center at the time.

The long-term benefits of relaxing with a recreational drug remain
unclear. That neighbor eventually moved to California and joined the
scene out there, leaving behind a lovely wife and two delightful children.

Another acquaintance, apparently high on marijuana, once sat in my
office claiming brilliance at solving complex math problems. All I
saw and heard was a bundle of vulnerability and a tumble of gibberish.

I could detect no particular advantage from marijuana for this
person. Surely my cultural deprivation blocks my appreciation for any
beneficial effects of a mind-altering drug.

Having firsthand experience with agriculture, I question whether
people suffering from a debilitating medical condition (DMC) are
really equal to the demands of planting, growing and harvesting a
crop of marijuana for personal use.

People far more discerning than I are already asking:

Are debilitated people strong and agile enough to engage in the
agricultural labor needed to plant, cultivate, harvest and process
their own marijuana crop?

Do terminally ill people have enough time left on earth to wait for
the Earth to bring forth a personal supply of the medicine they
earnestly desire?

The Michigan Marijuana Law passed by voters last November and taking
full effect April 4 doesn't clarify how DMC patients will acquire
their medicine. Common sense says they will most likely depend on the
largess of a marajuana farmer to fulfill their needs.

Production will require close supervision. Sources will be subject to
rules similar to those imposed on the potable alcohol industry. At
that point, marijuana will be legalized for all practical purposes,
generating another whole set of potential problems.

Agricultural largess is rarely voluntary. It might likely turn into a
profitable business with money changing hands. Call in the
"revenoors!" There are prospects for taxation here.

One almost suspects that the legislation passed last November --
ostensibly for the benefit of DMC patients -- will become the crutch
on which otherwise healthy folks who desire marijuana solely for
recreational purposes will hobble their way toward legalization.

Obviously I am in no position to render any kind of sound judgment
for the benefit of DMC patients.

That's my problem with cultural deprivation.

Carl Welser is a minister, a former firefighter with the Hamburg Fire
Department and a regular columnist in the Daily Press & Argus.