Californians may or may not vote next election to legalize marijuana. The polls show the "yes" votes running slightly behind and of course, there's the worry that many marijuana users will be too wasted to get to their polling places. In any case, Mark A.R. Kleiman says the outcome won't matter because federal law says the stuff's illegal and federal law supercedes state law. This thing qualified for the ballot months ago and there have been an awful lot of articles and debates about it by now. I'm not sure I've heard anyone raise the point Mr. Kleiman raises...but don't you think someone should have?
I'm voting to legalize pot. I've never used it. I've never even used tobacco. But in all these years of hearing the topic debated, I've never heard anything approaching a coherent explanation as to why vodka is legal but marijuana isn't. And in my world at least, I've seen more lives ruined by vodka than marijuana. If the measure passes, the legal system can deal with it...and at least we can be amused to hear it's all being taken to a Higher Court.
For the last few days, I've been hauling out one of my annual jokes, telling friends I'm arranging for the Comic-Con to be postponed a couple weeks. Not everyone laughs but absolutely everyone says something like, "Oh, if only you could." Everyone I know who's going has so much to do before then and no idea how they're going to get it all done. And of course, if I could get the folks who run Comic-Con to delay it for two weeks, then 14 days from now, friends would be calling to ask, "Any chance of two more weeks?"
We'll get there. Most of us do...and there's a certain sense of achievement you feel when you're checked into your hotel or walking into the convention center: I'm here. I made it. Remember that feeling and measure it against the one you'll have when it's time to go: So soon? But it just started.
As I've told three different reporters in the last two days, I attended my first Comic-Con in San Diego in August of 1970. It was the first convention there if you don't count a little "warm-up" one-day affair they had earlier that year. There were maybe 300 people there and the big guest was Jack Kirby. I still remember what a grand, exciting time everyone had. That kind of time is still being had by attendees, only more of them.
I don't recall if I've mentioned it this year but here's a tip I often offer: Go outside. Don't spend all four days in that convention hall subjecting yourself to that noise level and that pace and that air-conditioning. There's a lovely marina out back, especially accessible from the second level. Go out there once or twice a day. Inhale. Exhale. Watch some ships for a little while. It makes the energy of the convention much easier to accept...plus, they have air out there that's never been breathed by a guy dressed as Darth Vader.
I don't have a lot more wisdom to impart that isn't on my list of convention tips...or better still, on Tom Spurgeon's. If I think of something, I'll get back to you.
The L.A. Times has a blog which resurrects only articles from that newspaper, providing a nice perspective on how some looked at the world in earlier times. They've just run a series of clippings that cover the 1960 Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles, including the progression of the story as John F. Kennedy snatched the presidential nomination away from the man Lyndon Johnson thought deserved it...Lyndon Johnson.
Start reading with this page, then use the link above each entry's headline that says "Next Post" to go forward. You'll have to skip over a few pages that talk about things other than the convention but there's really a nice history lesson there. Pay special attention to an article on this page headlined, "Nominee to Run on Ultra-Liberal Platform." In 1960, equal rights for minorities were an Ultra-Liberal idea.
Last Thursday, I went to lunch with a wonderful, witty lady named Laraine Newman who has done many things above and beyond being part of the original cast of Saturday Night Live. I mean, that alone would be enough but there's been so much more.
We talked about mutual friends and our mutual birthday and we marvelled at how though it was a hundred-and-something degrees in Beverly Hills, Sylvester Stallone was dining at a nearby table wearing an apricot-colored three-piece suit. I've just completed my end of the second season of The Garfield Show, which includes the voice-directing, and I was fortunate to get Laraine to appear several times as a guest voice. What's fortunate about this is, of course, that I don't have to do any actual directing when I get someone like that. I just hand Laraine a script, point her at a microphone and tell her to be funny. She always is.
After we'd finished our meals, the check arrived in one of those little leatherette folders. We fought over it, I triumphed and I tossed my American Express card into the folder and a waiter took it away. Laraine and I talked for another hour or so...long enough that when we got up to go, neither of us noticed that our server had not brought it back to me for tip, total and signature.
Friday morning, I took my car in for routine servicing...and this dealership always makes me nervous because they always give me a "loaner" with, like, twelve miles on it. I don't like driving someone else's utterly pristine car and not just because I fear I'll scratch it, thereby taking its automotive virginity. I'm also afraid I'll enjoy the new car so much I'll want to buy one...which I guess is why they only assign out new loaners. Anyway, when I went to give the cashier my AmEx card to imprint for the security deposit, I discovered it was in absentia. It took about a minute to figure out I'd left it in that restaurant.
I cell-phoned them and a nice lady went away for what seemed like about six hours. Eventually, she returned to report that they'd searched the restaurant, high, low and in-between and they definitely did not have my American Express card. Sorry.
I waited fifteen minutes, called again and got someone else. This person went off, did a little search and came back in about two minutes to inform me that, yes, they had my American Express card. "I'll come by and get it later," I told her.
Later that afternoon, I drove the loaner (cautiously) to the restaurant. You may be interested to know that Sylvester Stallone wasn't there but Fabio was and I had to wait while they seated him. I don't know why he's more important than I am. Of the two of us, I'm the one who has a job.
The manager searched the restaurant like the first lady I'd called but eventually, he found the card, checked my i.d. and returned it to me. He thought I would take it and go but I said, "You know, I don't think I ever added a tip to the bill and signed it." This did not win me any points for honesty. It was more like, "You really are a troublemaker, aren't you?" Off he went to plow through all of the previous day's credit card slips. I waited there so long, I was sorry I'd said anything.
Finally, he came back with a slip and announced, "It's okay. You added a tip and signed the slip."
I looked at it and told him, "That's not my signature."
He gasped, "That is not your signature?"
I said, "That's not even my name." Someone else had added a tip (not a very good one) to the bill and signed their name to it. Fortunately, the confusion was only in the bills, not in the cards, and they hadn't given him my American Express card. Anyway, I added my endorsement and left.
On the way back, I stopped at the car dealership, turned in the unblemished loaner and went to pay for the work done on my auto. I opened my wallet, reached for the American Express card...
...and it wasn't there. Gone. Missing. Again. Second time in twenty-four hours.
My distress must have been pretty visible because the cashier asked me, "Something wrong, sir?"
"My American Express card," I said. "It's supposed to be here in my wallet but it has this habit of running off on its own. Excuse me, I have to call a restaurant and —"
She asked, "Have you looked in all your pockets?" I looked in my shirt pocket and there it was, hiding behind my iPhone. And I just went downstairs and looked and it's there in my wallet right this second. I've been checking every hour or so...
July 17, 2010
