PHOTO by NATALY LUKHANINA

Tues Nov 3 The City of Long Beach mobilizes what forces it can still afford to pay and closes down the Green Nurse Collective, a smoke shop and marijuana dispensary that apparently threatened the city more than the schools we can’t pay for and the kids we can’t protect. Yeah, it’s not like this city has any real problems, not like we’ve run out of money to pay people to fix our streets or cops to button their uniforms. Look, I don’t smoke or cook with pot—life is my drug, that and black tar monkey extract—and I find the “here’s the 277 things you can do with hemp” folks just as annoying as anyone else with a normal understanding of proper social interaction. All I’m saying is that we don’t have the time or money to be cracking down on a non-problem that happens to help a lot of sick people. Is it abused? Of course. So is cough syrup. I don’t see anyone closing down any Rite Aids.

Wed Nov 4 The Daily Forty-Niner, the Cal State Long Beach student newspaper, turns 60 this month, and that is a whole lot of stories about frats being put on probation. I worked on the paper for a couple of years, but had no idea it had been around that long—which figures, since the main reason I majored in journalism was that there was no math required. They’re holding a reception for the paper next Friday, and I’m seriously considering attending, although I am concerned that school officials will use the occasion as an excuse to hit me up for money they say I still owe the library. Look, I’ll tell you one more time: that book on human sexuality looked that way the day I checked it out. And the same goes for Wings of Desire: The Shaun Cassidy Story.

Thurs Nov 5 My apologies to the Hempsters. Apparently there is one amazing thing marijuana can induce: time travel. Today I happened upon an opinion piece written for LBPost.com by Long Beach City Prosecutor Tom Reeves. Reeves, writing in a manner somewhat evocative of Jack Webb, Justice Scalia and Marge Simpson, says there is no difference between a dispensary giving out marijuana to a “qualified patient” and a common drug dealer working on the corner. “They are both dope dealers,” he says, adding that the two are offering free samples, discount prices and free delivery. “‘Come on in—sit right down—try the dope—dig the prices.’” Dig the prices? What are you, Huggy Bear’s shop teacher? I heard “dig the prices” and I instantly flashed on a DeFranco Family poster. I mean, can’t you just hear the crewcut that had to watch his high-school crush get nailed by the school dealer in those comments? Yes indeed, “‘dig the prices.’” But first, check the baby in the bathtub.

Fri Nov 6 Given Tom Reeves’ strong feelings on the subject, I thought I should go check out the nexus of evil that is the Green Nurse Collective, so I drove my car (43,313 automobile-related deaths per year, according to the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration) to a relatively quiet stretch of Broadway, and there it was. Looking all quiet and evil and ready to kill, what with all its marijuana and peasant blouses. Yes, you could sense a dark presence there, one that wasn’t there when the place only sold cigarettes (438,000 tobacco-related deaths per year, according to the Virginia Tobacco Use Control Project). Just like that, I understood why it was worth our city’s time and treasure to close this place down and save the good businesses around it—you know, like the other smoke shop half a block away (438,000) and the liquor stores on either end of the block (79,000 alcohol-related deaths, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention). And yes, I know liquor stores sell booze, but they sell other, upright and legal things like potato chips, soda and candy (365,000 obesity deaths according to the CDC), as well as bottled water (water poisoning, “a potentially fatal disturbance in brain functions that results when the normal balance of electrolytes in the body is pushed outside of safe limits by over-consumption of water” has, in recent years been the cause of death in frat pledges, young children, Air Force recruits, marathon runners and, according to his family, Andy Warhol). All in all, my journey was very upsetting. I really need to chill out. Anybody know where I can score some chimp?

Sat Nov 7 Hey man, stop bogarting Bubbles.

Sun Nov 8 What, this banana? Naw, officer, it ain’t mine—I’m just peeling it for a friend.

Mon Nov 9 Still undecided about going back to Cal State Long Beach, though I did want to say thanks again to a nice young man named Josh who works at the school. Josh said he enjoys my writing so much that he can’t read me while he’s eating food for fear he may spit up. And, really, is there any greater compliment than knowing your work makes people puke? I mean, isn’t that what keeps Bon Jovi going?

Tags: black tar monkey extract, bubbles, csulb, daily forty-niner, Long Beach, medpot, TOM REEVES, wings of desire