I’m eating a weed chocolate bar right now. It came in a package that included a barcode. I purchased it with a credit card, from a store next to the police station. Legal weed is wonderful...unless, of course, you plan on smoking it. Have we forgotten what we came here to do? Bong rips. Blunt hits. You know, pot. The shit hippies fought for. The stuff that "is just a plant." And, yet, here we are, recharging our Millenial devices and smoking oil from a nail. Did we forget about the boomers who came before us?
Here are three things that we need to introduce to the legal weed arena, immediately. Otherwise, the last fifty years were a waste.
These used to be around, years ago. In fact, Cannabliss—one of Portland’s oldest dispensaries (if not the oldest)—was (and, still is) one of the best businesses in Portland, weed-related or otherwise. For those who remember the olden days of the late 2000s, it was possible to roll up into one of a handful of clubs (Cannabliss was one of several), buy some chips, take a gigantic vape hit from a plastic bag and sit on a couch, while some white dude in Rasta hair talked at you during a game of Mario Kart 64.
Then, one day, the clubs all disappeared— save for one or two exceptionally shady spots that didn’t do the "good vibes" mantra any good. What happened? To the best of my knowledge, there wasn’t an incident in which a stoned driver left a weed club and killed a family on the road. Nor was there a ring of underground cannabis sales that ran through these places—if anything, the scrutiny was over-the-top. As it stands today, I believe there are one or two cannabis lounges in Portland (if not Oregon). So, why did they close? Public safety???
The idea that cannabis lounges pose a danger to the community doesn’t make sense. For one, bars have fucking parking lots—big ones. Are we really trying to pretend that dozens and dozens of designated drivers and/or coffee-and-food patrons are filling them up?
What about gun ranges? Again, I’m a huge fan—but, I’m not gonna pretend that my bong is more dangerous than the hypothetical firearm I would mention in this column, if gun laws relating to medical marijuana cardholders weren’t so fucked up. Hell, there’s an "amateur skydiving" place by my old house. That’s right—you can skydive if you happen to be bored and have fifty bucks in your pocket. So, go ahead and jump out of a fucking plane while drinking and unloading a pistol—just don’t smoke pot in public.
Look, I’m 40 fucking years old—I like weed. Not dabs, twigs, bombs, tinctures, widgets, pollywogs or whatever you kids are vaping on my lawn. I want raw, stanky, green nugs. However, I do understand that noncombustion (vape) is the way to go, when it comes to health and retaining THC percentage (apparently, a joint wastes 90% of the good shit, when compared to vaporizing). But, when it comes to devices intended to vape weed (not concentrates, but nugs), the market is crap. You can either purchase a rig that requires a home setup and resembles that hookah thing the caterpillar from Alice In Wonderland was using or you can settle for a portable device that is fucking impossible to turn off quickly. One minute you’re pre-heating your Pax, and the next, mall security is asking you why your pocket is smoking.
Compare these flower vape devices to dab pens, oil rigs and the like. Weed oil cartridg es and tanks are not only one-button, onehit and easy to use, but they’re straight outta Star Trek, in terms of the technology. I have a hard time believing that a decent flower vape isn’t being produced (or, better yet, already on the market). Why aren’t we hearing about them, then? Is there such thing as "Big Vape," keeping the farmer man down? Who the hell doesn’t want to taste some fresh Dogwalker OG, fresh off the trimmer’s table? If you’re reading this and you know of such a device—something that can vape flower with the same quality as an oil pen— then please, promote that shit now!
Last year, I had the pleasure of seeing Ween (a band that is nearly impossible to enjoy for five solid hours in a row, without the help of a little cannabis) at a McMenamins (a venue that is literally covered in weedrelated art, serves weed-friendly food and is full of weed-infused staff) on the edge of town, in a field (the place is called "Edgefield," if you need any more of a description). And, of course, in between the dozen outdoor bars and cigarette smoking areas, there were several signs reminding attendees that cannabis is illegal in public and not allowed. So, while tripping balls and drinking Jerry’s Still Alive Ale (or whatever it was called), I enjoyed songs about cocaine, juxtaposed against a light show and sung by dudes with eyes redder than a Midwestern state—however, two puffs into a joint that I attempted to sneak behind a restroom, I was immediately rushed by security.
It’s 2020. Teenagers are using phones to meet strangers to have sex with. Cars drive themselves into other cars. I’m pretty sure I just bought ammo on Wish. Can we have our legal weed concerts yet? Please?
