Etiquette in the weeds

It was, I suppose, inevitable. The onslaught of marijuana-related books.

Nearly a decade back, there was the more or less discreetly titled “The Little Black Book of Marijuana.”

Now there are all sorts of titles out there for folks who want to get into the cannabis business, or just get into the loop they may never have been in, or have been out of for decades. (Ahem.)

So, as of this year, you can get yourself a copy of “Cannabis for Dummies.”

But if manners matter – and, of course, they should – there’s now “Higher Etiquette: A Guide to the World of Cannabis, From Dispensaries to Dinner Parties.” And the author is none other than Lizzie Post, the great-great-granddaughter of Emily Post who, back in the 1920’s, quite literally wrote the book on etiquette, appropriately named “Etiquette.”

I wouldn’t have imagined that anyone would need a book on manners to help folks navigate the shoals of acquiring and using weed (which may or may not be an acceptable word for marijuana, which may or may not be an acceptable word for cannabis – more on the linguistics a bit later). When I heard about the book, my first thought was this will sell plenty as a gag gift, stocking stuffer, and Yankee swap item.

But it’s getting fairly good reviews, and if you need a primer for what strikes me as fairly obvious behavior, this one may be for you, or as the Times reviewer has it:

…your cousin who is about to visit her first dispensary on a “weedcation”…or your aunt who wants to learn about CBD oil, made from a chemical compound in cannabis, to palliate the burden of her arthritis pain. (Source: NY Times)

Hmmmm. An aunt who wants to learn about CBD oil? There is that matter of my gimpy shoulder….

Anyway, a lot of what gets covered seems pretty obvious.

Don’t slobber on the pipe. Don’t take too many hits at once. (“We all know that dude.”) Try not to dreamily repeat “I’m so high” over and over again. Don’t go robotic and mindlessly scarf all the munchies. Don’t assume we want to hear your theory of existence, at least not right now.

Does anyone really need to be told not to slobber on a pipe? And, sorry, if you’re in the frame of mind to “dreamily repeat ‘I’m so high’ over and over again,” I can pretty much guarantee you that nothing you’ve read in an etiquette book is going to prevent you from doing so. Ditto for munchy scarfing and theories of existence. Some things just come with the territory.

There are other territories that are, at least to me, pretty much terra incognita (and likely to remain that way).

Post considers pot and table settings, a brave new world for sure. About vape pens, she writes, in a passage that would make certain hosts and hostesses of my acquaintance have instant Fred Sanford-style heart attacks, “they may be placed to the right of the setting or across the top of the setting either between the place card and dessertware or behind the place card.”

That said, I recently went to the wedding of a young vaper I know and love. Vape pens were not, however, placed on the table.

Post also offers advice on nomenclature. Don’t say "pothead”, it’s stigmatizing. (Okay, but sometimes you just have to call a spade a spade, no?) And she also suggests avoiding the word “marijuana.” She doesn’t mention it, but some folks claim that “marijuana” has racist connotations (others refute this). This point reminds me about a mini-furor that spun up a couple of years ago with claims that using the word “jimmies”, a New England-ism for chocolate sprinkles, has racist origins. Snopes has pretty much knocked this one down, but nevertheless, it persists.

Me, I hate to let go of New Englandisms.

I still miss “tonic” for “soda”, and “jimmies” will always be “jimmies” to me. Given that we have real racism to deal with, it seems pretty stupid to waste time and energy on fake racism. But I guess this can go either way – use or don’t use a word that may (however irrationally) cause offense. Me? Right about now I crave a mocha almond cone from Brigham’s with jimmies chocolate sprinkles.)

Cannabis, by the by, is the current go to term for marijuana. To me, it sounds too clinical.

The terms of use back in my day were “dope,” “pot”, “ganga”, “Mary Jane – or MJ”, “weed.”

I poked around a bit and it seems that “dope,” “pot,” and “Mary Jane” are out. Sort of like calling a young woman in a short skirt a flapper.

Don’t know about “joint”, but “Doobie” is out for “joint.” So what is it? A “jay,” a “spliff,” a “blunt”? Need to know basis, I guess. And I really don’t need to know.

But I wouldn’t mind at least thinking about trying some CBT oil for that shoulder of mine. And maybe a mildly laced gummy bear. A bit of weed of the mellow sort of my youth. There are pot shops cannabis stores in both Brookline and Salem, where my sisters live. What do you say, girls?

Even without reading Lizzie Post’s book, I promise not to drool on anyone’s pipe.

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A nod to my sister Kath for pointing this book review out to me.