IMO No.7: We’ve Seen This Before: Cannabis Is Just Repeating the Alcohol Playbook

This isn’t a judgment. It’s just one guy reflecting on where we’ve been and where we’re headed—with a little help from East Texas and a woman who knew how to hide a Miller Lite.

A Tale of the Baptist Beer Drawer

Growing up in the '80s, there was no place more comforting—or hilarious—than my Grandma Etta’s house. A born-and-raised East Texas woman, all 5'1" of her was pure sass and full of life. She was notorious in the family for being a terrible cook—like, burn-the-toast level bad—but we loved her anyway. She could drop a one-liner with the precision of a seasoned stand-up.

One time, at the age of 92, after a fall landed her in the emergency room, the doctor asked what happened. Without missing a beat, she looked him dead in the eye and said, "It was a knife fight. You should see the other guy." That was Etta. Her house always smelled like Aqua Net, old furniture, and the kind of mischief that only comes from a life well-lived.

And in that house, tucked away in the back of the refrigerator, there was what we lovingly called the Baptist Beer Drawer.

Now, if you weren’t raised in the South, let me explain. It was basically the bottom left vegetable drawer—you know, the one technically meant for carrots and celery. Up front, sure enough, were a couple sad-looking green beans or a half-used bell pepper. But tucked in the back, cold and camouflaged, was the real prize: a Miller Lite or two, waiting patiently. That was the Baptist Beer Drawer. Hidden in plain sight, just in case the preacher happened to stop by unannounced.

She wasn’t a drinker in the party sense. But Grandma Etta—and Grandpa Harvey—liked their occasional cold one, and she wasn’t going to give that up for appearances. Still, she knew the rules of the culture. You could sip, but you better not flaunt. Not in front of the Baptists, anyway.

Fast forward a couple decades. Etta’s fridge had long since lost the drawer stigma. Instead, she had a tidy little wine rack in the kitchen—and a bottle of bourbon for her grandsons. And not only was she not hiding it, she was pouring glasses for her Methodist friends every Thursday night at wine-and-Bible-study like it was nothing.

The shame was gone. The normalization had happened.

And I believe—I know—cannabis is heading in the same direction.

From Hidden Drawers to Kitchen Counters

Right now, cannabis still lives in a bit of a modern-day Baptist Beer Drawer. It’s present in more and more homes, but it’s kept out of sight, behind doors, stashed away just in case someone who “doesn’t approve” drops by. Even for those of us who are open about our use, there’s often still a little internalized whisper: Hide that.
But why? It’s legal!

Just like Grandma Etta’s cold beer eventually became wine with friends, cannabis is slowly working its way from the shadows to the centerpiece. And that’s a good thing.

We’ve seen this before. After Prohibition, alcohol didn’t just become legal—it became social again. Slowly, then all at once, it moved from vice to normalcy. From whispered indulgence to dinner party staple. And yes, from shame to acceptance.

That same normalization arc is playing out with cannabis right now. It’s not just the dispensaries or the celebrity brands—it’s your neighbor growing a plant on their porch. It’s your co-worker microdosing before yoga. It’s the grandma with arthritis finally trying a gummy because her niece swears it helps.

This isn’t about glamor. It’s about belonging.

Cannabis Lovers: It’s Time to Speak Up—Gently

So here’s the challenge for those of us who love cannabis and know its potential:

We need to stop preaching to the choir and start gently reaching into those spaces where cannabis is still hiding in the drawer.

There are people we know—friends, family, coworkers—who could benefit from cannabis. But they’re still stuck in a loop of old messaging: that it’s dirty, illegal, lazy, sinful, dangerous. Sound familiar? That’s the same tape Grandma Etta grew up with around alcohol. And she found her way through it.

We need to meet people where they are. Not with flashy packaging or fancy THC numbers, but with stories. With compassion. With education that isn’t condescending. With conversations that say, “Hey, I use cannabis—and here’s why it helps me.”

Because once the fear fades, the curiosity can begin.

From Taboo to Tool

There will come a day—probably sooner than we think—when cannabis has a place in the cabinet next to the Tylenol and the bottle of wine. Where it’s not a punchline or a protest, but just… part of life.

That’s not to say it’ll be for everyone. Just like not everyone drinks, not everyone will use cannabis. And that’s okay. But the goal here isn’t universal consumption—it’s universal understanding.

And we only get there by being honest, open, and yes, a little patient.

We don’t need to “convert” anyone. We just need to make space for the idea that cannabis isn’t going anywhere, and it might just be worth reconsidering.

In My Opinion…

Cannabis is on the same road alcohol traveled after Prohibition. It’s moving from taboo to tool, from hidden to held, from shame to something you pass around with pride.

We’ve seen this before. But this time, we get to do it better.

Let’s make room at the table. Let’s tell the stories. Let’s be the gentle nudge that helps someone else say, “Maybe I’ll try it.”

Let’s build a world where the cannabis drawer gets replaced by a jar on the counter.

Or even better—a Dexter Cube proudly displayed on the buffet in the living room, right next to the family photos and the fancy candle no one’s allowed to burn.

And if the preacher stops by?

Well, maybe he’ll stay for a brownie this time.

Coming Up Next…

IMO 8 – Shots or Joints? Let’s Talk About the Better Buzz
Cannabis isn’t just competing with alcohol—it’s being rebranded to replace it. In the next article, we take a side-by-side look at how each one shows up at the party—and why the smarter buzz might just come with less of a hangover.