The headline for this post derives from the Pink Floyd song, “Nobody Home,” from the concept album turned movie, The Wall. As our rock star protagonist slips into loneliness and insanity, he’s looking around his hotel room and at himself, and he sees “the inevitable pinhole burns all down the front of my favorite satin shirt.” The holes are from the embers of his cigarettes, which presumably he’s chain smoking.
Of course, neither smoking nor the indolent burning of holes in your shirt are inevitable.
Anyway, the lyric came to mind when I read the reaction of RI’s leading lobbyist for the legalization of marijuana upon hearing that Democrat Governor Gina Raimondo backs a study commission for the related bill, not the actual policy:
… legalization advocates say the commission would only delay the inevitable.
“The public is behind it. Massachusetts is moving forward. We don’t think a study commission is necessary because we already have the data,” Jared Moffat, of Regulate RI, said. …
Massachusetts retail shops will begin selling marijuana in July 2018. Moffat said delaying legalization in the Ocean State will result in sending jobs and revenue to the Bay State.
So speaks the pusher: “Hey kid, your friends are all doing it. You’re going to buy some eventually. You might as well buy it from me, now. Why be the last?”
Pink Floyd rhymes “inevitable pin-hole burns” with “the obligatory Hendrix perm.” Hendrix’s death from a drug overdose wasn’t inevitable. As a carpenter, I worked on a few projects with a painter who railed against anti-drug laws on the grounds that Hendrix died because his girlfriend was afraid to call for help out of fear of being busted for possession. The first day I worked with that painter, by the way, he mentioned that he wasn’t quite himself because his friend had just died. Another overdose.
Legalization is not inevitable. If states that have made the leap find, for example, an explosion of hard-drug use (which is still in the cards), opinions will change quickly. Haste is the imperative of those who fear a gamble will go sour.