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Dear Editor,
    Read your Dad-dope-interview, and related in some degree ["The Austin Chronic: I Interviewed My Dad About Marijuana," Feb. 2]. I'm likely old enough to be your grandfather – plus. I was in college in the Sixties. I too, spent my career working medically underserved areas of Texas. I lived in Austin until it became an early version of the cesspool and insanity it is today.
    I see a major difference in old vs. new dope. I "quit" in 1983. I claim the crews of two Panamanian freighters were put out of work as a result. My life changed. In five years, I was married to the wonderful lady I still am privileged to call "wife." And I was in medical training. Clearly, the life of doping was leading me nowhere.
    Still, I say that marijuana back then was great fun. The socialization and interaction of sitting with friends and passing a joint was unparalleled in friendship, amusement, discovery, and cameraderie. I miss that.
    I put "quit" in quotation marks because I tried the new stuff a couple of years ago. Similar to your Dad, I have a problematic nerve disease – an inherited demyelinating disease, and I can't tolerate narcotics – pain is preferable to the adverse responses. I found it to be vastly more potent than what we had back then, with a few notable exceptions.
    Included in those few potency exceptions were the characteristics of the dope of the time – much laughter, relaxation, munchies with an enhanced enjoyment of flavors, increased enjoyment of friendships and a host of other elements which were absolutely absent in the new stuff.
    The new dope is a get-loaded product. You get massively stoned, higher than a kite, almost completely disabled high. But no laughs, no munchies, no social lubricant properties and unlike your Dad – ZERO help with pain. This was a waste of time and money to go to Colorado, let them copy my driver's license for whatever reason, and pay the ridiculous price for crapweed, albeit legal crapweed. I hoped for improvement in all phases if I used it several times. I smuggled it home. Tried it four or five times at varying doses. You get blithered, not enlightened, and certainly, no pain relief. I sent the remaining crapweed where crap belongs.
    I do wonder if the old stuff would help relieve pain. I CAN say this: If you are sick with viral gastroenteritis, such as the strain that went epidemic in Austin perhaps around '78-'79 or so, and you're begging to die quietly, the old stuff could make living tolerable, and would allow sensible food intake until the virus died off. I suspect the old stuff would likely be a better product for use in chemotherapy with platinum-containing agents and a few others notorious for misery.
    So much for my views – no criticism – we all have variable experiences and views. This is just one more.
    Your Dad has a tough row to hoe. Give him all the support you can. As for me, time is short and relief is in sight.

Dear Editor,
    [Re: "Rides From Hell," Feb. 2]: I've been asking for months; how is it Governor Assbutt and his cronies have been able to openly smuggle immigrants across state lines and into other cities ... even brag about it? Maybe now they can be charged with committing a felony? I feel very confident in saying the top tier of elected Texas officials are all criminals engaging in criminal acts.

Dear Editor,
    [Re: "The Thompson and the Loren: A Tale of Two Hotels," Daily Food, Jan. 27:] Regarding "what locals are pleased to call Lady Bird Lake" – this local is more comfortable calling it Town Lake.