Mark Oppenheimer admits he’s “been meaning to start smoking pot again”:
The pot smoker I want to be resembles the drinker I once was: occasional, responsible, social, after-hours. And I hope I am raising my daughters with a sane attitude about alcohol and drug use. I want them to come of age in an America where, should they choose, at an appropriate age, they can buy the least harmful drugs the way we all buy alcohol: at cost, from a reputable dealer, without risk of arrest or gunshot wound or being harshly judged. You know, like in the Netherlands. But with no boys around.
But I still can’t figure out how to be comfortable as a dad who smokes pot. I know I don’t want to get high in front of the girls: I don’t want them to see me stupid or out of control. I think that would frighten them. I definitely don’t want to be a cliché. And I don’t want to rob them of the slightly subversive thrill that will come, some day, with hiding their weed from Dad.
The Dish 