When I’m not writing this weekly “weed comedy” column, I’m involved in numerous other aspects of the cannabis industry. It’s a great way to spend long hours making a shocking, depression-inducingly small amount of money, so I strongly encourage all the children reading this to stay in school. And to stop reading this.
While I don’t grow, sell, or process cannabis, I spend most of my time with those who do, professionally and socially. And for the most part, they’re lovely people.
But this work affords me a little license to call out what I see as some poor choices and behavior being made by my cannabis industry colleagues. (Of course, I am speaking to everyone else, and certainly not you. You’re great, don’t change, kiss kiss.)
Don’t Leave Home Without It—I go to a bunch of cannabis events, on average two or three a month. When time and mood permit (translation: always), I step outside with friends and smoke joints. My joints, which I’m always happy to share. And yet… with whom am I smoking those joints?
PROFESSIONAL. LICENSED. GROWERS. OF. CANNABIS. Do they ever have any of their own joints to share? No. (JB of Green Bodhi is an exception.)
Of course, that doesn’t stop them from talking about them. “Oh yeah, I twisted up some Vanilla Hazelnut Unleaded Haze joints before I left.” You did? Gosh, I love hearing about them. What’s even better than that is SMOKING THEM.
This is only slightly less annoying than the growers who didn’t bring any of their own flower to a social gathering. They have plenty, it just slipped their minds. They “forgot.” I wonder why.
Show up with some weed, people. If I have to listen to you ramble on about salt buildups and SCROG techniques, it’s required.
Sit Down, Be Humble—“I grow the best weed, brah….” “My shatter is, like, totally the best….”
Oh, is it? Is it the absolutely the best thing ever? Kind of like the best sunset or best kiss or the cutest baby?
No, it’s not, because the “best” in cannabis isn’t a thing.
Strains change, new ones get developed, old ones get rediscovered, technology gets introduced, ancient cultivation methods get remembered and implemented. But there is no “best.”
We Already Have a Wheel, Thanks—In that same vein, we all agree cannabis is pretty nifty, but please stop saying that what you’re doing with it is “groundbreaking, the first of its kind ever!”
Because it ain’t.
You see, prior to your special event, people got together, ate well-made food prepared with cannabis, and smoked more cannabis throughout the evening.
It’s great that you’re taking something that people have done for decades and doing it yourself, but you’re going to hurt your arm patting yourself on the back.
Brand Awareness—I was at a multiday music festival in a trailer with the headliners last month, and someone banged on the door as though they were escaping zombies.
I opened it and found a sweaty, shirtless, obviously tripping-balls young man, who thrust his closed fist towards me and blurted out, “I’m the marijuana guy! Here, have some joints!” and placed three sweat-soaked bent and twisted pre-rolls in my hand. Great.
“Thanks,” I said. “Are these… sativas? Indicas?”
“They’re free joints, man! I’m, like, the weed sponsor!” he said, waving as he stumbled away.
Free weed is very nice.
Dry, straight joints that you can identify are much better, and it doesn’t take much work to accomplish this. You could put them in, I dunno, a “doob tube” joint container, and then label it with info about the strain and effects and stuff.
Just like a real dispensary does.
All I Ever Loved in My Life Was the Mic—At a cannabis science conference recently, the panel opened up the floor for some post-session questions post.
A middle-aged man took his turn at the microphone and, obviously stoned, he did not so much ask a question, in any manner, as much as he held forth in a nine-minute, long-winded, rambling diatribe against… who knows?
When someone gives you a microphone to ask question and you are really, really fucking high, just ask your question and sit down. It’s not a talking stick.
