Today is 4/20, a significant day for stoners. 420 has become an iconic symbol in the cannabis world. 4:20 is the time to smoke pot, just like happy hour is for alcohol. I have seen it used for years, and until I googled it today, I didn't know the origin. Maybe I did, and forgot. Occupational hazard.
San Rafael is a bedroom community to San Francisco, located in Marin County. In the 1970s, a group of high school guys called themselves the Waldos. Somehow they came into possession of a treasure map, from a friend who had buried a large amount of pot in the woods in Bolinas, near the beach.
Each afternoon, the boys would meet after sports practice, which ended at 4:20 pm., and embark on the hunt for the cannabis. During the school day, they'd remind each other in the halls of their quest, in code, saying 4:20, no one knew what they were up to.
It would be easy to blow this off, but they have all kinds of proof that they've kept in a safety deposit box. The group consists of five guys, grandfathers now, three of whom agreed to be interviewed publicly.
In the marijuana industry, 4/20 is Black Friday. When I started this job, I was informed that everyone works on 4/20. The deals are a great draw, plus it's all kinds of festive, like New Years Eve in Time Square.
I was dreading it, up until yesterday, when Yelli told me that they weren't going to inventory today. It was going to be a scene that would definitely harsh my mellow. Way too many people wanting really good deals. After working in retail on Christmas Eve one year, I vowed I would never do that again. And I didn't have to. I am probably the only cannabis industry employee who didn't have to work today and I am totally ok with that.
Saturday, April 20, 2019
Friday, April 19, 2019
A Month In
It's been a month.
I'm happy I'm still there. Counting is relaxing. On the stress scale, it is so far from the stress of being a teacher or working in Washington DC for yellers. I know what I am supposed to do, and I do it. The job is well defined. The metrics are clear. I show up and do what I am supposed to do.
When I go home, this job does not come with me, unlike teaching, where I would wake up at 3:00 am (a favorite time of insomnia for teachers) with thoughts of the most troubling child in my head. After teaching for many years, and having to think in 40 different directions through the day, it is gratifying focus on one thing. I am good at it. I needed it, not just for the money, but for the escape from the craziness of current events these days. Throughout the day, I rarely think of politics, which makes me feel so much calmer.
I work with interesting people, many of whom have done other really stressful career things, like me. James started when I started. He used to be a counselor for people undergoing gender reassignment surgery. He said as crazy as it can get, working at VHHC is a day at the beach. LJ worked the drive through at In-n-Out on weekend nights. Again, another day at the beach.
The amount of product is amazing, not to mention the continuous movement. Restocking and shelving goes on daily, and it boggles my mind how Sierra, the buyer, and Yelli, the manager, keep it all together.
This week, a woman about my age came in and was overwhelmed by what greeted her when she entered. It was her first time in a dispensary, after years of illegal cannabis consumption. She full out cried. I gave her a hug, because I remembered my first time, as did several other customers. She couldn't believe how easy it all was.
My first visit to a dispensary was in Colorado. I googled dispensaries in Fort Collins, and my GPS took me to an anonymous industrial park strip mall. It felt like walking into a conventional doctor's office waiting room, except for the floor-to-ceiling windows looking into a huge crop of growing cannabis plants. I sat in the waiting room, waiting to be called into the actual shop, like I was waiting for the dentist. I bought flower, an indica and sativa. Each came in a prescription bottle, and was put in a stapled bag.
Walking outside, I felt like the cops were going to get me, until I remembered how legal it all was. It felt so liberating. I stopped at dispensaries in Vancouver, Washington, and in Portland, Oregon. In the interest of seeing the different interpretations of cannabis shops, I bought a joint or two in each place.
In Vancouver, where I was visiting Jane, a jewelry store had been rehabbed into a chic, all white boutique, where the cannabis was displayed in the jewel cases, and on shelves in glass bottles. Again, I bought a joint. We crossed the street and went to a funky tea room, the walls covered in framed mirrors, for lunch. Later, we smoked the joint in her garden, as the sun was going down.
I drove most of the night to get to Portland from Astonia, a beach town far away from Portland. I thought I would be able to find a place to eat and sleep, but since it was October, the place was shut down and deserted. After a harrowing several hour ride, I stopped at a coffee shop to recover from a stormy night on one lane roads. One of the presidential debates was that night, and the politically themed shop was having a watch party later.
I googled another shop called Vertigo, and, once again, let my GPS guide me. In its previous life, the space had been a saloon. It still had that whiskey and cigar feel, as well as a great name.
When I got to Vallejo, I got myself a medical marijuana card and went immediately to the place where I now work. I felt just like the woman this morning, but I wasn't quite as emotional.
It is a big thing for people in our generation to walk into a pot super market. When we were coming up, we could never imagine it even being legal. Not only is it now legal, it is a booming business.
For most of my life, using cannabis has been illegal and forbidden, which added a certain cachet to it. Now it's legal and above board, and the San Francisco has a cannabis section in its Sunday paper, as well as a wine section.
I'm happy I'm still there. Counting is relaxing. On the stress scale, it is so far from the stress of being a teacher or working in Washington DC for yellers. I know what I am supposed to do, and I do it. The job is well defined. The metrics are clear. I show up and do what I am supposed to do.
When I go home, this job does not come with me, unlike teaching, where I would wake up at 3:00 am (a favorite time of insomnia for teachers) with thoughts of the most troubling child in my head. After teaching for many years, and having to think in 40 different directions through the day, it is gratifying focus on one thing. I am good at it. I needed it, not just for the money, but for the escape from the craziness of current events these days. Throughout the day, I rarely think of politics, which makes me feel so much calmer.
I work with interesting people, many of whom have done other really stressful career things, like me. James started when I started. He used to be a counselor for people undergoing gender reassignment surgery. He said as crazy as it can get, working at VHHC is a day at the beach. LJ worked the drive through at In-n-Out on weekend nights. Again, another day at the beach.
The amount of product is amazing, not to mention the continuous movement. Restocking and shelving goes on daily, and it boggles my mind how Sierra, the buyer, and Yelli, the manager, keep it all together.
This week, a woman about my age came in and was overwhelmed by what greeted her when she entered. It was her first time in a dispensary, after years of illegal cannabis consumption. She full out cried. I gave her a hug, because I remembered my first time, as did several other customers. She couldn't believe how easy it all was.
My first visit to a dispensary was in Colorado. I googled dispensaries in Fort Collins, and my GPS took me to an anonymous industrial park strip mall. It felt like walking into a conventional doctor's office waiting room, except for the floor-to-ceiling windows looking into a huge crop of growing cannabis plants. I sat in the waiting room, waiting to be called into the actual shop, like I was waiting for the dentist. I bought flower, an indica and sativa. Each came in a prescription bottle, and was put in a stapled bag.
Walking outside, I felt like the cops were going to get me, until I remembered how legal it all was. It felt so liberating. I stopped at dispensaries in Vancouver, Washington, and in Portland, Oregon. In the interest of seeing the different interpretations of cannabis shops, I bought a joint or two in each place.
In Vancouver, where I was visiting Jane, a jewelry store had been rehabbed into a chic, all white boutique, where the cannabis was displayed in the jewel cases, and on shelves in glass bottles. Again, I bought a joint. We crossed the street and went to a funky tea room, the walls covered in framed mirrors, for lunch. Later, we smoked the joint in her garden, as the sun was going down.
I drove most of the night to get to Portland from Astonia, a beach town far away from Portland. I thought I would be able to find a place to eat and sleep, but since it was October, the place was shut down and deserted. After a harrowing several hour ride, I stopped at a coffee shop to recover from a stormy night on one lane roads. One of the presidential debates was that night, and the politically themed shop was having a watch party later.
I googled another shop called Vertigo, and, once again, let my GPS guide me. In its previous life, the space had been a saloon. It still had that whiskey and cigar feel, as well as a great name.
When I got to Vallejo, I got myself a medical marijuana card and went immediately to the place where I now work. I felt just like the woman this morning, but I wasn't quite as emotional.
It is a big thing for people in our generation to walk into a pot super market. When we were coming up, we could never imagine it even being legal. Not only is it now legal, it is a booming business.
For most of my life, using cannabis has been illegal and forbidden, which added a certain cachet to it. Now it's legal and above board, and the San Francisco has a cannabis section in its Sunday paper, as well as a wine section.
Monday, April 15, 2019
Notre Dame Burned Today
The Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris burned today. The spire crumbled. the nave was saved. 900 years worth of history in danger of being totally obliterated. Reports say that treasures were saved, with many not being stored in the Cathedral due to renovation, which is what is thought to have caused the fire. How would you like to be the guy who started the fire? Of course, the president tweeted something boorish to the French, comparable to telling Californians to rake their forests during the wild fires. He is such a pig. And a dangerous one.
Saturday, April 13, 2019
A Month In
Just finished my fourth week at the dispensary.
My body is adjusting, and so is my mind.
At first, I never thought I could just count all day long. Now, though, I have my counting routines, and I have a rhythm, so the day moves along. I've graduated from counting just flower. Now I count concentrates and edibles, a mind expanding experience.
There is so much I still don't know about cannabis. I'm definitely in the right place to learn. I asked one of my younger co-workers today if anyone still smokes herb, and he laughed and said he hadn't since 2012. It's total culture shock to someone like me who smoked weed and indulged in home made hash brownies. There are so many ways other than actually smoking to consume cannabis. The thing that caught my eye was the Dabbalator. It looks like a pen and it burns concentrate. This article explains dabbing. It comes from Leafly, a great reference for all things cannabis.
https://www.leafly.com/news/cannabis-101/what-are-cannabis-dabs-and-benefits-of-dabbing-marijuana
Then there are the edibles. There are gummies, cookies, rice crispy treats, butter, honey, chocolate, cold brew coffee, infused wine, mints, sodas, lollipops and so much more.
My neck is sore because it is bent over for at least six hours a day. I use the tincture I bought on pay day at bedtime, and it helps.
At the end of last week, I was exhausted. This week, I am better. But I do spend most of my time hunched over, counting. I get so engrossed and don't pay attention to all that is going on around me. My job is not stressful, and, not only do I get paid, but my Twitter habit has subsided. The world is careening out of control, and my haven is my job. When I do check it, I am sorry I did. It still pulls me in.
My body is adjusting, and so is my mind.
At first, I never thought I could just count all day long. Now, though, I have my counting routines, and I have a rhythm, so the day moves along. I've graduated from counting just flower. Now I count concentrates and edibles, a mind expanding experience.
There is so much I still don't know about cannabis. I'm definitely in the right place to learn. I asked one of my younger co-workers today if anyone still smokes herb, and he laughed and said he hadn't since 2012. It's total culture shock to someone like me who smoked weed and indulged in home made hash brownies. There are so many ways other than actually smoking to consume cannabis. The thing that caught my eye was the Dabbalator. It looks like a pen and it burns concentrate. This article explains dabbing. It comes from Leafly, a great reference for all things cannabis.
https://www.leafly.com/news/cannabis-101/what-are-cannabis-dabs-and-benefits-of-dabbing-marijuana
Then there are the edibles. There are gummies, cookies, rice crispy treats, butter, honey, chocolate, cold brew coffee, infused wine, mints, sodas, lollipops and so much more.
My neck is sore because it is bent over for at least six hours a day. I use the tincture I bought on pay day at bedtime, and it helps.
At the end of last week, I was exhausted. This week, I am better. But I do spend most of my time hunched over, counting. I get so engrossed and don't pay attention to all that is going on around me. My job is not stressful, and, not only do I get paid, but my Twitter habit has subsided. The world is careening out of control, and my haven is my job. When I do check it, I am sorry I did. It still pulls me in.
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Pay Day
Today was pay day. I got paid in cash, although everything was withheld, just like in any other business. It feels weird to be walking around with 800.00 in cash until I can deposit it.
I keep counting. It is the perfect job for me, considering all of the brain frying jobs I have had in my career. I show up and do what I am told, and I count. I don't have to deal with irritable customers or colleagues, although I haven't met any of those.
Twitter is really not holding my interest at all. I have no idea what is going on in the world at the moment. After work, I went to Loretta's, and she and Bake fed me dinner. Cauliflower soup and Caesar salad, with One House Bakery break. Bake came in the store today.
I purchased a cartridge and a tincture today for my pain. Wedding Cake is the cartridge and it's a 50/50 hybrid, meaning that it's an equal blend of indica and sativa. I can taste the cake. I just took a few drops of the tincture. I am in so much pain, and I really need to sleep tonight. My left hip, groin, and right shoulder are all extremely troublesome tonight. I am really hoping this tincture works. It's part CBD and part THC.
We finished Game of Thrones, and now have to wait until April 14 to see the first episode of season 8. No binging on this one. We have to wait from week to week. I don't know how the people who watched it in real time could wait between episodes, let alone seasons.
Yesterday, I met Jane Vanvig in the city. Her sister and brother-in-law live in the Sunset, so I drove in and we went to lunch. Her brother-in-law just had his 4th brain surgery, so she is here, helping her sister. Jane and I go way back, to the time when I worked in law and lobbying firms in DC, so she can appreciate how far I have come working in a dispensary.
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