Mo Money, Fewer Problems

The end of the 2011 growing season.

Each year the decision to participate in Movember is one I make with the greatest ambivalence. As a 15 year old high school student I spent many days and nights wishing that I might one day be able to grow something that the world would recognize as a beard. Now that I have come halfway close to having that wish granted, it seems ungrateful and reckless to shave it off. Part of me fears looking like a someone other than myself, another part fears that my beard might never grow back. I didn't say this was rational, but who ever said people were rational?

The reason that I ultimately take up my razor and clog the bathroom sink is three-fold. First and foremost it is about solidarity. I may not be a fund-raising dynamo on the Movember circuit. Each year I can rely on a couple donations from people in my life who support me no matter what. In my best year, I was able to leverage my position of authority at the Adventure Guide cash register to raise $500. A respectable sum, but not even close to what the top Mo Bros post up. I don't let the numbers get me down though, because I know that my pitiful mustache represents something more. By growing a mustache in November, I am instantly letting anyone else participating know that we are in this together. The popularity of this somewhat ridiculous event has exploded in the past 5 years and I like to think that it is at least in part because enough people like me have let the more reluctant Mo Bros know that it's okay. If our facial hair has inspired at least one other person to participate, and they have done the same, our influence has reached far beyond the dollar amounts on our Movember profile pages.

Adventure Guide Mo Broing

The second reason is the most obvious sounding one there is. I am anti-cancer. Cancer is at the heart of Movember and parting with my beard is how I let the world know that I value the end of suffering for others above my own appearance. I heard a great quote on the radio yesterday that went something like "A man who is warm cannot possibly know the perspective of a man who is cold," so I don't pretend to know what having cancer is like, but I have seen and read enough to know that we should be doing everything in our power to put an end to it. Cancer destroys lives in every segment of society. Rich or poor. Young or old. Cancer is indifferent and relentless. Although Movember focuses on men's cancers, progress in one form of the disease can hardly prevent progress in treating its other manifestations. At the very least it raises consciousness about the issue for a month in a way that is more funny than it is depressing... The point kind of makes itself. Cancer is bad and it deserves swift death. Let's move on.

The third and final reason why I Movember (yeah, I verbed the noun) is because it represents what a lot of ordinary people can do when given the proper outlet for generosity. We all identify with the message of charity. We know that all kinds of important causes deserve our attention, but we don't live in a world that typically encourages philanthropy. We spend a good chunk of our lives chasing money and are told to hang onto our wallets for dear life, only letting dimes and nickels escape if they can provide us with the things we need to live or if they improve our lives directly in some obvious way. Movember makes charity more accessible. Instead of the face of a single non-profit organization, Movember has the face of people you know. It may be a goofy and ironic face, but it's a face you are more likely to identify with. It makes it easier to give $5, $10, $50, or even $100 because you feel like you know where it is going and who it is supporting.

My first 'stache.

Obviously that is an illusion. Each Mo Bro is a middle man that helps to funnel money into the hands of people who are using it to do good. As a grad student, I know the difference that funding for research can make. It allows you to eat and have a place to live while you use your education to pursue something you feel is important. That is the real point of Movember. It is means for raising money that makes people laugh and encourages them to give to a great cause. Each year, across the globe, it raises tens of millions of dollars so that smart people can use their brains to work towards something amazing. That is something I am beyond proud to be a part of.

With that in mind, donate it you can. Every little bit helps.

My Mo Space: http://ca.movember.com/mospace/782322
My Team: Team Rabbit Smoking a Pipe

Thank you and good luck,

Steve

Why I Hate Buying Things: A Rant

The internet is a wonderful thing. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would disagree with me when I say that the internet has dramatically changed the world for the better, but odds are they don’t cruise blogs, so I think I’m safe. Not only does the net let us stay connected to people we are geographically separated from, it entertains us, provides us with news, and teaches us to do everything from build a birdhouse to start a military coup if that sort of thing is what you’re into (I’m looking at you Egypt).

But, all those things aside, my absolute favourite thing about the internet is that it limits the number of times I have to personally interact with customer service representatives.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love some of the benefits that person-to-person interactions provide. You can ask questions, make jokes, sometimes you even have a pleasant conversation or make a new friend. Unfortunately, these diamonds are most assuredly in the rough. Nowadays you are extremely lucky if you find a customer service representative who is EITHER knowledgeable about the relevant topic OR pleasant to talk to. The odds of stumbling into an interaction with someone who is both of these things is the rarest and most startling of surprises.

It has actually gotten to the point where I am caught off guard by a positive experience. Case in point: On Saturday I went to the hardware store hoping to find something to remove paint from the floors in the house I recently moved into. I was greeted by an enthusiastic, middle-aged employee with a little bit of an Alan Thick thing going on. Not only was he cracking jokes, laughing, and generally taking some pleasure in this job, he showed me a better and cheaper solution to the problem I was hoping to solve.

I haven’t stopped talking about it since. This blog is a perfect example. I am now actively looking for excuses to go spend money at that hardware store just because the experience was so unique.

My original point still stands, however. The internet has made it so, in a lot of cases, we can avoid the the guy at the cell phone store who hates his job and lets it show or the teenager who is selling shoes in spite of not knowing how to tie them.

Recently I signed up with a new internet provider and (aside from a scheduling conflict that was my fault anyway) I didn’t need to actually speak to anyone to get things set up. I filled out a form online, a guy showed up and ran a line, I got online, and I was billed. It was an amazingly smooth and convenient process. Considering the hassle that often goes along with setting up services, I was very happy.

Riding on the high of that success, I decided to push my luck. The last step in setting up my new place was getting the gas turned on. Oddly enough when I signed my lease and spoke to a representative from the company who manages the property, no one mentioned that I would need to call the gas company. Needless to say I was frustrated but a little heartened by the fact that the gas company provided me with the option of signing up online. You probably know where this is going…

It has been a week since I got my “Confirmation” email. I use quotation marks because clearly my understanding of the word ‘confirmation’ differs from the gas company’s. I am still taking cold showers despite trying to call them three times to set up the service that I thought I was setting up online.

Finally today my girlfriend got through to them only to find out that they had no record of the request. They even went so far as to suggest that I should have called to begin with. To me that begs a question: Why would you allow people to register for your service online if you don’t plan on actually recording their information?

The experience has been nothing short of infuriating and has brought me to a realization:

As wondrously convenient as the internet is, we may never be able to fully escape the frustration of dealing with incompetent people; because, sadly, they are now the ones administrating the websites we rely on.

It may just be that instead of going to a store and talking to a person with the IQ of a bag of sand, we have to fill out an online form that request personal information, sends SPAM to our email accounts and conveniently trashes whatever it was we were requesting in the first place… Or maybe I’m just venting.

The Kindness of Strangers

I'm back from another writing hiatus with a story that restored some of my faith in humanity. In the age of conservative politics, it is nice to get the occasional reminder that people aren't always in it for themselves and no one else. In that spirit, I share with you something that happened to me a few weeks ago.

On June 9th, my friend Derek from back home in Ontario flew out to BC to visit my girlfriend and I as well as to do some mountaineering. Being the gracious host without a car that I am, I took the bus to meet him at the airport. On transit, the trip out to YVR is a bit of a haul from my apartment (about an hour and a half on a good day) but I actually enjoy public when I'm not in a rush, provided it isn't too crowded. On this day, I was in luck. I rode the bus in peace, listening to the musical stylings of Cake on my iPod as I watched the scenery pass me by, anxious to reunite with my former climbing partner.

I arrived at the airport without incident and, after a short wait, Derek appeared. We boarded the train back to downtown, from which we would take the bus back to my apartment. The ride was filled with the usual "I haven't seen you in a while" banter that friends exchange. What's new? How've you been? What do you want to do while you're out here? All in all it was pleasant, and the long bus ride gave us a laid back environment in which to catch up. We even got to sit in the prime seats at the back of the bus, where I could put my feet up on the supports for the seats in front of us.

When we got off the bus, I was thoroughly famished and eager to get some lunch. We grabbed Derek's bags and quickly disembarked from the bus. Only after the steel behemoth drove out of view did I have the presence of mind to do a check of my pockets to make sure I had everything I left home with. Upon patting myself down and pausing for a moment to think, I had the minor heart attack that follows the realization that you've lost an expensive piece of technology. My iPod, along with 30 gigs of music and audiobooks that had seen me through long trips and idle afternoons for the past seven years, had slipped out of my pocket when I put my feet up.

I'm not a man who gives up easily however, and all hope was not lost. Luckily for me, the bus that dropped us off needed to make a loop around the top of Burnaby Mountain before it could begin its trip back downtown. We hurriedly dropped of Derek's things and I left him to visit with my girlfriend as I ran back to the stop where I would hopefully intercept the bus.

I waited anxiously, trying to remember everything I could about the vehicle we had ridden in. I recalled that it was mostly blue on the outside and was driven by an older man. The first bus that came around was white, so I immediately ruled out checking it. The next that appeared was the right colour but was driven by a young asian guy and was on a different route. I knew that sometimes the buses changed drivers and route numbers on the far side of the mountain so I decided to check just to be sure, but my hopes weren't high.  After a quick explanation to the driver I went to the back of the bus to do a quick search. The place where I would have been sitting was occupied by a young man in a green shirt listening to an iPod of his own. I asked if he had found an older model iPod anywhere near where he was sitting. His confused expression betrayed that he hadn't and that I would need to keep waiting.

Mildly perturbed, I got off the bus and watched it pull away. Before it was out of sight, however, there was a slight commotion in the back. The person I had just spoken to was trying to get my attention through the window and was waving something small and white. It could only be my iPod. My momentary shock at the fact that the guy who found it wasn't trying to keep it for himself quickly turned to panic as I realized the driver had no intention of stopping and that the bus was headed off the mountain. I knew if I lost sight of it, I might as well start shopping for a new music player because my search would become a needle in a haystack the size of the Greater Vancouver Area. I took off.

I sprinted to catch up with the bus and catch the attention of the man in the green shirt. He saw me and I yelled the only thing I could think: "NEXT STOP!" There was one more stop before the road left the mountain. The stop is a less-than-popular one as it is away from the main campus buildings but if even one person was waiting there, the bus would have to pick them up. All I could do was keep running and hope to make it to that stop before the driver closed the doors.

Now, I'm a fairly fit individual. I run a few times a week and I hike avidly. But as I watched the bus get further and further away, and my lungs and legs began to burn more and more, I quickly realized that I am not the sort of person who can maintain a full-out sprint for half a kilometer. I rounded the bend in the road just in time to see the bus pull away, taking my favourite songs and audio books along with it. I stopped for a moment, heart pounding, and tried to think. Maybe the guy in the green shirt had tossed my iPod from the bus when he realized I wasn't going to make it. In my winded state, this seemed like my last hope. I turned and began walking back to where I had originally been waiting, to be sure I hadn't passed it by. Part of me knew I was out of luck, but I had to be sure.

As I walked down the side of the road, catching my breath and searching the ditch, I heard something from behind be and a long way away. A whistle. My head snapped around and my eyes strained to focus in on the green shape waving in my direction. I was filled with disbelief and a surge of adrenaline that allowed me to cover the distance to the bus stop in record time. There stood the man in green holding my iPod out for me to take. I stood, panting, sweaty, and looking like a psychopath. I muttered the only confused thought my mind was able to form. "Did you just get off the bus for me?"

I was shocked. Here was this guy who had no loyalty to me; who was minding his own business; presumably trying to get home after a long day at school; trying to beat the late afternoon rush; and he had delayed himself significantly just so I could have my iPod back. I was touched. I couldn't remember the last time a stranger had shown me any kindness beyond holding a door, if one ever had. As the fog of breathlessness began to lift, more thoughts tried to fight their way to the surface. "You," I said, pointing at him, "you are a really good person."

My inadequate and inane babbling aside, the guy was as nice and as understanding as you would expect. I thanked him profusely and tried to offer him the small amount of money I had in my wallet so he could buy himself lunch. He refused, and after a few more thank you's we went our separate ways.

In hindsight, I wish I had been thinking clearly enough to do something more. Perhaps gotten his phone number so I could buy him lunch next time he was on the mountain. Unfortunately, I'm not that quick on my feet and the man in green who saved my iPod has vanished back into the crowd of people known as strangers. I likely wouldn't even recognize him if I saw him again. The experience has restored some of my optimism about the world, though. In the weeks since, I have stopped while listening to my iPod several times and reflected that, had it not been for one person's selfless attitude, I would be sitting in silence. Those thoughts inspire me to pay it forward and try to be a better person.

In the fast-paced crowded world that we live in, full of isolating technology and indifferent passers by, it is easy not to think of others. The truth, however, is that thinking of others is one of the things that makes us uniquely human. If we hadn't cooperated and used our collective intellect to solve the problems we have, our lives wouldn't be nearly as comfortable as they currently are. I'm lucky enough to have a physical reminder of the importance of being kind. The fact that it plays music is just a bonus at this point. I can't repay the man in the green shirt for the kindness he showed me, but I can try to live my life based on the simple lesson he reminded me of: Help each other out, we're all in this together.

Here's to you, Man in Green.

Cheers,

Steve

Run for the Hills

So my dating isn't exact on this because I didn't keep a log of the day when I first slipped on my five fingers and hit the track, but sometime approximately one year ago I embarked on my quest to undo the damage of sloth caused by living through a Yukon winter at a research station. Don't get me wrong, the Yukon was an amazing experience. I met great people. I saw great things. I bulked up my resume and got a jump-start on my thesis. However, when you are alone 5 days each week, doing research and living at a lonely highway outpost there isn't much you can do to stay fit. The avalanche danger was usually too high to do any solo adventuring and net result was a chubbier, lazier version of myself.

It was with resolve in my heart and a spare tire around my waist that I came home last May, determined to get in shape. After a quick stop at Adventure Guide to get my Five Finger Bikila running shoes I was ready to go. My first few runs were tame. The just about needed to be as running to the corner of my street left me winded. I got used to my new barefoot shoes by running the track at the high school near my house. My 11 year-old brother even joined me for a couple of outings. The extend of these runs was 2 sets of 4 laps around the track, amounting to a little over 3 km. Even with a long water break in between it was hard going. The sun was hot and my lung capacity was abysmal, but somehow I managed to fight through it.

After a couple weeks at the track I graduated to the road. It was a tough transition mentally more than physically. The road is where real distance runners trained, especially in my neighbourhood. I couldn't look out my bedroom window for 5 minutes on a sunny afternoon without some fitter, more competent looking person jogging past. If it wasn't for the knowledge that I was being a wimp, and that I would never improve if I didn't challenge myself, I would have probably stuck to the kiddy-pool. My first road run was a humbling experience. I mapped out a 5 km loop around the subdivision that included a couple moderate hills but nothing a 13 year-old cross-country hopeful isn't expected to tackle. The run involved 3 multi-minute rest stops, using up my water supply by km 2, and much wheezing on the side of the road.

Over time the route got easier. The key to sticking with it was that I purposely chose to run through areas I liked. I ran by houses many times larger than my own with perfectly landscaped yards. I ran by forests, and ponds, and schools. I also had my ipod going the entire time. In between "Pump-Up" playlists I enjoyed listening to the audio-book version of Christopher MacDougall's "Born to Run" which is now on my list of favourite books. From my initial attempt, I was able to subtract whole minutes. I timed myself for the challenge and so I could track my own improvement. And improve I did.

Over the months, I extended my route and got comfortable going on 8, 10, and even the occasional 15 K amble through my hometown. I began to feel better, lose weight, and had a more positive outlook on the world. When I moved across the country by car last summer I got to run in places like Sleeping Giant Provincial Park where my girlfriend and I rounded a bend to find three surprised deer staring back at us. Once we made it to BC we explored the trails near our apartment and found giant trees as well as banana slugs. When the weather took a turn for the worse we hit the gym and became avid treadmill runners. I even cut class one day and ended up running a half-marathon distance around campus.

The past year has been a great experience for me in terms of running. I've learned that my own limitations are all mental and that, if I'm willing to put in the work, I am always able to get better at something. I've gained persistence and perspective and hopefully lengthened my life as a result. I realize not everyone loves running. It can be hard, painful, boring, and demoralizing when you're in the thick of it. It's beauty lies in the long-term. Over the course of a health-kick I guarantee the net effect is a positive feeling. You may hate the 30 minutes a day you spend on the treadmill but they make the other 23 and a half hours far more enjoyable as you savour your runner's high. Many of my friends have also undertaken fitness quests this year and I have heard sentiments from them that echo what I have said here. The clichés are true. No pain, no gain. Slow and steady wins the race. The squeaky wheel gets the grease. That last one isn't really about running, but I'm sure it's true, too. So even if you don't think to can, just give it a try. It might not be running but I promise there is something you will love if you leave the couch and get to finding it.

Wishing you all the best of luck and happy trails.

Steve

Image courtesy of discovery.com

The Most Ridiculous Thing... A Rant

Today the news is full of talk about same-sex marriage. Last night Barack Obama became the first sitting President of the United States to openly say that he approves of equal rights for the LGBT community. To me, all the hype seems to do is highlight how absurd the issue actually is. It's shocking that people can be so ignorant as to think that one group of people should have different rights from another group based entirely on the gender of the person they love. I honestly don't even know how I am going to come up with a full length blog post about the issue because it seems so self-evident... But here it goes:

There are few things in life that I feel absolutely certain about. Where I will be in 5 years; what I'm having for dinner tonight; who will win the next major election. These are all things that could go a number of ways and I don't have enough evidence to confidently state what their outcomes will be. However, one thing that I am absolutely sure of, beyond any doubt, is that in 100 years the "issue" of same sex marriage will not even cross people's minds. It will be an accepted and usual part of life in the 22nd century. No weirder than getting an oil change or paying too much for gas.

We have seen issues with exactly the same components come and go and the liberal side always wins. No exceptions. Looking back on the civil rights movement of the 1960's or the Women's Suffrage Movement of the 1920's and 30's, we think of the opposition as bigoted and wrong. The simple fact is that anyone who currently opposes same sex marriage will be given the same label, when all is said and done. The march of progress is reality and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Even the most liberal minded person living in 1850 would seem vehemently conservative by today's standards. Abraham Lincoln would seem like a backwards racist if you were to meet him for a beer. With this in mind, I can't understand why anyone would even question this issue. There is no debate. All people should have equal rights under the law concerning everything from employment to marriage to home ownership. You name it. If one person gets it, everyone gets it.

I'll even go one step further and point out that, in the not too distant future, (once everyone wakes up and realizes that treating people like people is only rational thing to do) the debate is going to shift to animal rights pretty quickly. The change is already beginning. More and more articles calling for animals like dolphins, whales, and apes to have rights approaching those of people are popping up. The safe money is on the fact that in 100 or so years you won't be able to find any aquariums with large marine mammals or zoos with any of the higher primates because caging them in would be illegal. It might sound crazy today, but I for one want to unequivocally state that I support it. That way, if this blog still exists in the year 2112 my great great grandchildren won't have to wrestle with the fact that their ancestor was a mental prisoner to the Zeitgeist of his time.

Have the courage to look at things sensibly. Rights aren't something you are allowed to allocate based on how you feel about other people's choices. Live your own life and let other people do the same. If you don't, history won't remember you fondly.

Cheers,

Steve

Things I Wish I Knew About University

So last week I got some great news from back east. Turns out my younger brother has been selected for a basketball scholarship to a school in North Bay, Ontario. Naturally this got my big brother muscles working as I wondered about what advice I could pass down to help him be prepared for the onslaught of books, lectures, tests, and projects to come. Of course, I can't hope to develop a comprehensive list of what everyone needs to know as they begin their quest for higher education, and that is where this blog comes in. My hope is that anyone who reads it and thinks of some glaring oversight will add it to the comments section. In the end, as a team, we might even come up with something useful. But let's get to it:

Things I Wish I Knew About University:
1) This ain't no reading competition

For the purposes of maintaining a long-running inside joke, I was obliged to make this "Rule #1" but that doesn't make it any less true. The further you go in school, the more important presentation skills become. Nothing shows that you know your stuff like being able to confidently stand in front of a room of peers and teach them about it. Similarly, nothing makes you look more awkward than stuttering, mumbling, reading a script, or falling into the deadly trap of using "umm," "like," "uh," etc. If you need time to think about what you want to say, stay silent or use sentences to fill the gaps. Some of my favourites are "That is an excellent question." or "I'm glad you asked that." Also, don't underestimate the power of a relaxed presentation style. A few jokes and a laid back attitude puts everyone at ease and helps them care about what you're saying instead of feeling bad for you.

2) Laptops are both handy and dangerous

A computer is an indispensable tool for anyone in university. It lets you stay organized; keeps you in contact with far away family and friends; and can lead to productive group study sessions. However, one thing that I have learned over my 6 years of post-secondary work is that, generally speaking, a laptop is a poor note taking tool. Sure it will save you paper. Sure, it's more organized than notebooks or loose leaf paper. That doesn't change the fact that you are constantly tempted to go online and read about hockey stats or cruise reddit. If you are easily distracted (and who among us isn't?) leave the laptop at home and take notes the old fashioned way. You'll be more engaged, remember more, and won't have to worry about losing or damaging your most expensive resource.

3) Work smart, not hard.

This may seem like bad advice, and in the wrong hands it most certainly could be. It's painfully easy to justify not working when there is no one looking over your shoulder to keep you in line. That being said, I have also met too many people who lock themselves up in their room and cram their lives away. University is about learning, but it's also about having fun. It's one of the only times in your life when you're not expected to hold down a full-time job and deal with all the crap that goes along with being a real adult. My working philosophy has been to evaluate the class and tailor my habits to how it functions. If the teacher posts comprehensive notes online, I don't need to write down too much of what they say. If the online notes suck or are non-existent, I write a lot more. If I know a lot about a topic we're dicussing, I skim the reading for key points. If I'm totally lost, I'll read every sentence in the book and take detailed notes. When I'm struggling particularly hard in a class I always try to come up with two or three questions to ask during the lecture, just to stay engaged.

4) Don't be "That guy," but don't hate on him too much either.

Every class has one. The person who goes out of their way to talk over other people or ask questions that have little to do with the topic at hand. It can be infuriating when all you want to do is get through the lecture and go back to bed. They come off as arrogant and inconsiderate and, subsequently, don't have a huge fan club. Being that guy makes it hard to work with other people and tough to find a group who wants to study with you. The other side of the coin is that "that guy" is usually being overly chatty because he is insecure about his abilities in the class. He knows he can show interest and let the prof know that he's trying, but sometimes takes it a little too far. My advice on this point is basically that we're all in this together. Try to respect classroom etiquette (you'll pick up on it pretty quickly) but don't spend too much time hating on the people who ignore it. You'll need all the positive energy you can muster when finals roll around.

5) Read for pleasure.

One of the comments I heard most often during my undergrad was "How do you have the energy to read things other than class material?" My answer was usually something along the lines of, "If I didn't read things about mountain climbers, I would go crazy and flunk out anyway." My justification was that my grades under the system of pleasure reading plus class reading were the highest grades I was capable of. Changing the system would just make things worse. Not only is it a nice break to read something you chose, but it helps you become a better, faster reader who retains more. You can take skills you develop doing things you care about and use them to do better at things you don't. By reading "Between a Rock and Hard Place" on the bus, I was better able to fly through "Advanced Parametric Statistics for the Social Sciences." That's not to say I enjoyed the latter as much as the former, but I didn't struggle as much with it. Pleasure reading also helps you know what you're really interested in and will help you pick classes you care about. Nothing is worse that studying something you have no passion for and a salient reminder of your real interests helps keep things in perspective.

I'll leave it there for now in the interest of keeping this blog at a manageable length. Before I sign off, though, I just want to take a few lines to congratulate my brother on achieving something he has wanted for a long time and has had to work really hard to attain. Along the way there have been setbacks, most notably a blown out knee that required invasive surgery, but he has never given up and has proven more than a few people wrong. I'm really proud and hope he is too.

Cheers,

Steve

Image courtesy of quickmeme.com 

The Embarrassing Subculture

Yesterday was a day that thoroughly confused me. Every year on April 20th in cities throughout the world people gather to celebrate, or protest, or generally just sit and think about marijuana. Personally, it is a day that I am thoroughly put off by for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, I don't associate myself with pot culture and do my best to distance myself from it, that's just me. But the day raises some interesting questions about law and the so-called "War on Drugs."

I can't speak for the rest of the country, but if you live in Vancouver and were trying to get around yesterday it is pretty likely you ran into some obstacles. The festivities blocked city streets, held up buses, and brought things to a halt to the same extent that a city-sanctioned event would. I find that incredibly perplexing. Marijuana is supposed to be illegal but yesterday downtown Vancouver became a no-holds barred pot market. It is inconceivable that police didn't know what was going on and the lack of problems that arose seems to imply that nothing out of the ordinary took place. My question is, why do we bother to pretend that pot is some underground drug that only the seedy underbelly of society indulges in if it's clear that it's ubiquitous?

The fact of the matter is, no matter how much society attempts to ban the voluntary use of certain substances, certain things are never going to disappear. If people want to smoke the by-products of a plant that they can grow in their basements, they are going to. Now I don't claim to be overly familiar with the specific laws surrounding drug possession but, from what I have seen, the average police officer is more likely to turn his glance than reach for his cuffs when he sees people indulging. That creates an embarrassing situation for the police officer, the smoker, and anyone who expects him to act any differently. All we have done by outlawing marijuana is create the seedy subculture that we want to associate it with.

Stop and think how the world would change if you could buy pot at any place you can currently buy cigarettes. Instantly there would be no reason for people who enjoy the drug to seek out shady characters in dark alleys. Police wouldn't have to waste their time dealing with dopey kids when actual violent crimes are happening. Things would basically exist in the same way they do now. People who don't like pot would remain distant from it and people who do wouldn't need to block of city streets and shove the drug in everyone's faces once a year. Best of all (depending on your perspective) we could tax it like crazy. Legalizing marijuana would create an overnight revenue stream for federal and provincial governments that could be used to maintain infrastructure and pay for services.

People might call me a hypocrite for writing something like this because anyone who knows me understands that the last thing I want is to be around drug culture, but that is exactly why I have chosen to take this position. If we take a problem and turn it into an opportunity, not only will we benefit in terms of safety and fiscal fortitude, we won't have to hear about it as much. Nobody organizes imposing festivals to promote cigar  smoking. The obvious counter to this is that every once in a while an event that is strongly based on alcohol imposes on the lives of people who decline to participate. To that, all I can say is that the stigma is nowhere near as strong because there is no onus on the police to put a stop to it.

All I'm saying is that we need to accept that marijuana isn't going anywhere. No matter how half-heartedly we attempt to enforce the laws surrounding it, advocates will continue to come out in force and argue for its general acceptance. The sooner we acknowledge that the current system represents a large scale failure, the sooner we can begin to reap the benefits of supply an demand. Eventually law makers are going to need to wake up and realize that all they have done is make this out to be a bigger issue than it ever should have been and created a situation of mutual annoyance for everyone involved.

That's about all I have to say on this.

Steve

Image courtesy of: http://imgur.com/gallery/1ovI9