Back in early March, I expressed my views in this column about the many cannabis dispensaries opening up all over Connecticut, now that the state has legalized the recreational use of marijuana. That essay generated a lot of feedback, with many people agreeing with my observation that government officials don’t seem to be offering any warnings that the pot being sold now is much more potent than the stuff young people smoked in the 1960s and ‘70s. I mean, the dope available today can put you right in the stratosphere. It’s nothing like having a couple of beers after work. I quoted one senior citizen who was floored (literally) by the pot being sold today: “This ain’t Woodstock weed!”
Other people contacted me to disagree with my views and point out that I am obviously a grumpy old poop who doesn’t know how to have fun. That’s not true. I am not grumpy.
The two or three days after my column appeared in the newspaper were kind of odd. Every time I looked at my phone, I saw that another batch of emails had arrived. With my particular smartphone, when I look at my email inbox, it lists all the most recent emails that I’ve received. For each email, my phone shows the name of the sender, the subject line, and then the first four or five words of the message. I have to tap on an individual email for it to open up and allow me to see the whole message.
Sometimes it was pretty obvious what a message was going to say. The subject line would read, “Great column today,” or, “I totally agree.” And other ones would have a subject line like, “Couldn’t disagree more!” or, “Why do you hate happiness?” (For the record, I don’t hate happiness. It’s one of my top three goals in life, right behind glazed crullers and afternoon naps.)
The two or three days after my column appeared in the newspaper were kind of odd. Every time I looked at my phone, I saw that another batch of emails had arrived. With my particular smartphone, when I look at my email inbox, it lists all the most recent emails that I’ve received. For each email, my phone shows the name of the sender, the subject line, and then the first four or five words of the message. I have to tap on an individual email for it to open up and allow me to see the whole message.
Sometimes it was pretty obvious what a message was going to say. The subject line would read, “Great column today,” or, “I totally agree.” And other ones would have a subject line like, “Couldn’t disagree more!” or, “Why do you hate happiness?” (For the record, I don’t hate happiness. It’s one of my top three goals in life, right behind glazed crullers and afternoon naps.)
For a while there, I was getting a little skittish whenever I looked at my phone. “Oh boy,” I’d think to myself, “What kind of venom is coming at me this time?”
One of the email messages that appeared on my phone listed the person’s name, and it was someone I did not know. The subject line said, “Your column today,” which didn’t give me a hint whether it was an “Attaboy,” or a “You stink,” message. And the first few words of the message itself displayed as, “Mr. Dunn, I want to compl…”
In the one-and-a-half-second time period between when I looked at the abbreviated message and when I tapped on the phone’s screen to see the full message, a zillion thoughts ran through my head. “‘Compl…’? What is that word, and what is this person trying to say to me? ‘I want to complain’? ‘I want to compliment you’? ‘I want to complicate your life’? ‘I want to complete my tax returns by April 18th’? ‘I want to comply with all town zoning regulations’? ‘I want to compluferate the electric grid’?” (I didn’t know any other words that began with C-O-M-P-L, so my brain started inventing words.)
One of the email messages that appeared on my phone listed the person’s name, and it was someone I did not know. The subject line said, “Your column today,” which didn’t give me a hint whether it was an “Attaboy,” or a “You stink,” message. And the first few words of the message itself displayed as, “Mr. Dunn, I want to compl…”
In the one-and-a-half-second time period between when I looked at the abbreviated message and when I tapped on the phone’s screen to see the full message, a zillion thoughts ran through my head. “‘Compl…’? What is that word, and what is this person trying to say to me? ‘I want to complain’? ‘I want to compliment you’? ‘I want to complicate your life’? ‘I want to complete my tax returns by April 18th’? ‘I want to comply with all town zoning regulations’? ‘I want to compluferate the electric grid’?” (I didn’t know any other words that began with C-O-M-P-L, so my brain started inventing words.)
When I tapped the email and it opened up to reveal the entire message, I was relieved to read, “Mr. Dunn, I want to compliment you on your recent column.” However, the message concluded with this warning: “Please do not compluferate the electric grid.” (No, just kidding.)
I do appreciate feedback from readers. It helps me know whether I’m making any sense or not. (The answer is usually: NOT.) But I thought the days of getting lots of negative feedback were over. Especially since I vowed never to repeat the mistakes I made during the world-famous “Bagpipes Fiasco of 2018.”
I do appreciate feedback from readers. It helps me know whether I’m making any sense or not. (The answer is usually: NOT.) But I thought the days of getting lots of negative feedback were over. Especially since I vowed never to repeat the mistakes I made during the world-famous “Bagpipes Fiasco of 2018.”
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