Updated: Sep 2
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The rumors about me are mostly wrong. I am not Joe Mantegna's body double or an attorney—although I resemble both. I'll admit, I started the rumor about my death in Humboldt County. I mean, if you're going to kill yourself (or your pen name), Humboldt is a good place to do it. I was surrounded by beauty in the form of very large trees and a slurry of challenged humanity that forces one to question their life decisions.
The rumor went that I was bludgeoned by a laptop computer in a dive bar called The Shanty. What a wholeheartedly refreshing experience was this drinking establishment. A bunch of semi-depressed working class potheads and trimmigrants taking refuge in alcohol when they knew that marijuana is a considerably healthier form of escape. But irony abounds in this life and I shall never have the insight to explain a place like Humboldt County, America.
I'm currently on a job project in Ohio and temporarily living on the edge of a 1,000-acre forest in the northeastern section of the glorious Buckeye state. Yesterday I saw a family of four deer get the zoomies, just like puppies do. These mammals redefined agile and majestic. Elon Musk: Make your stupid Model X doors as smooth as a fawn playing in my backyard and you'll be a true genius.
Chrissie Hynde Was Wrong: Ohio Is Cool
Having decided to park it for a few months for this job project in a very different climate than the desert of southern Nevada, I've been detached from regular sources, shall we say. No big; we all gotta show our tough side now and again. Despite the charm of modern commercial dispensaries, I've always been a fan of the underground. And those underground sources are back in Henderson, Nevada.
After taking my solace in too many bottles of Canadian Club whiskey, I realized that consumption of this much ethanol is just not healthy. My body went from consuming a relatively large amount of cannabinoids, terpenes, and flavonoids to getting none of those and plenty of booze.
I quickly realized that I needed to drink less and smoke (cannabis) more. It is a relatively simple ratio. My time swimming with Keith Richards was over.
"I realized that I needed to drink less and smoke more. It is a relatively simple ratio. My time swimming with Keith Richards was over."
I had passed a CBD place in the Merriman Valley several times and figured it was worth a try. Desperation is a stinky cologne, eh? I had heard that such shops sometimes sell delta-8 carts and figured I could get something for my crappy vape pen that I love to pretend that I like but really don't.
Since I dropped into the shop early afternoon on a Friday, I was the only customer in the place and got the focus of the budtender. I don't know the guy's name, but in my mind, he's Craig. I needed a name for him on the drive home and Craig it became.
Craig was super helpful. I hear all these complaints about budtenders. Have you tried actually talking to them? I know, Higher Learning LV says they all need training. All I know is that Craig was great and put a smile on my face. He knew his stuff. He could even describe decarboxylation and did so in a way that is legal in a retail shop in Ohio. Now that is skill, homeboy.
"Craig motioned toward a full cabinet of carts and batteries and then another cabinet that featured delta-8, delta-10, HHC, and THCP. Like stuff I had only written about."
Craig motioned toward a full cabinet of carts and batteries and then another cabinet that featured delta-8, delta-10, HHC, and THCP. Like stuff I had only written about and knew only in theory were right in front of me. Some of it was pretty pricey—but that's to be expected in a market that is just emerging from the Nixon era weed prohibition that afflicted America until California awoke from it's daze in 1996 with the help of Dennis Peron.
Then Craig raised an eyebrow and said, "But what I personally prefer is the THCA flower. It smells amazing," he said as he opened a 1/8th bag under my nose. "Damn, not bad," I replied. He proceeded to share the scent of another variety, saying they both were his personal go-tos.
"I didn't anticipate getting loose leaf when I walked in here a few minutes ago," I said. "I grew up in Ohio, but am in here now on a temporary job project. Very different weed culture there."
"Oh yeah, you're spoiled in Vegas, man...you have it all there," said Craig.
"Yea, but the ability to jump into HHC and delta-10 and to experiment...this is pretty amazing. I walked in thinking a wimpy delta-8 cart was my best option, but I think you talked me into the THCA loose leaf, dude," I said.
Craig smiled and showed me a cool shortcut on my phone for Apple Pay.
Had a strip mall CBD store in a luddite state like Ohio put a bigger smile on my face than the big guys in Vegas and LA? Well, sort of.
"The Dispensary in Vegas is amazing and MedMen in West Hollywood was pretty cool. But this no-name CBD store in the middle of bible belt Ohio had just achieved the magic of customer satisfaction."
Perhaps it is all relative. I don't want to throw shade on anyone. The Dispensary in Vegas is amazing and MedMen in West Hollywood was pretty cool. But this no-name CBD store in the middle of bible belt Ohio had just achieved the magic of customer satisfaction in a career pothead like me. After having lived in Los Angeles and Las Vegas for the past seven years, I was shocked, to say the least.
This funky independent CBD shop will get my business again when I finish this RS-11 and move onto some of their other products. I want to try THCP.
Chrissie Hynde was wrong: Ohio is cool.
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