A Little Doobie Will Do Ya

We in The Past Our Prime Home have a lot of respect for Dr. Philip Leveque, of Molalla, Oregon, because we have so many aches. Dr. Leveque is known colloquially as "the Marijuana Doctor." Of course he is now a Former Doctor because the dipshits who run the Oregon Medical Society don't know their asscrack from a teakettle.

In Oregon we have what is known here (and in Turkestan, too, I imagine) as the "Medical Marijuana Law." This was put on the ballot by initiative and passed by a real smart electorate. (Oregon also has the nation's only Assisted Suicide Law. We are nothing if not quirky.)

What the Medical Marijuana Law amounts to is you can grow a few marijane plants and smoke them leaves and buds without getting busted if you are in serious pain that regular medicine won't do diddly squat for. One problem is getting seeds, because selling the stuff is NOT lawful. But people who get authority to grow their own weed seem to be managing.

An osteopath, Dr. Leveque had a shingle out saying his practice was "limited to examining patients" who might need doobie as a pain killer. Somewhere around 12,000 people in Oregon have got certificates of doobie worthiness. Dr. Leveque signed over 4,000 of them. Pretty good number, seeing as how Molalla only has a population of 5,700.

It seems, though, that Dr. Phil (hoo boy!) had been taking his show on the road. He would line up a convention center or hotel to examine people for marijuana-easing-pain symptoms. Some of the people lining up had pretty ridiculous hurts, to wit:

"I am sore at my boyfriend for leaving me."
"My boss is a pain in the butt."
"I was at Wounded Knee."
"I am reading the Agony and the Ecstasy."
"I am easily irritated."
"My 99-year-old mother died unexpectedly and I am heart-broken."

I guess the words in bold type were the ones Dr. Phil heard. And they didn't sound so ridiculous to him, so all these people (and thousands more) got certificates to grow Acapulco Gold.

But the Medical Society has jerked Dr. Leveque's license. They noted that only five percent of Oregon doctors have signed EVEN ONE marijuana certificate. And they said one of his patients was a 14-year-old girl (like that was some kind of crime). For crap's sake, 14-year-olds can have the worst pain in the world, like whether to go to the prom with Henry or Jake.

Oh, the anguish. (Phil, send my certificate to Room 111, The Old Folks Home, Salem, Oregon 97304.)