HAPPY 4-20! I dedicate this post to my high school stoner pals who used to smoke up in Shabbona Park and various other places on Chicago’s NW Side. Something tells me they’re still hanging out there. Or at least their spawn are. Crazy to think my best friend during my teen years is a mother of a teen. And right about now that kid is probably smoking a doob, just like his parents. Kind of sweet.
On this annual holiday, where people gather to celebrate and consume cannabis, I’d like to put culture into the word counterculture by telling you about the Museum of Marijuana in Denver, Colorado. The small house, surrounded by small offices and retail stores along South Broadway, lacks an internet identity, with the exception of this blog. According to the blogger, even with a strong odor in the air, the place does not appear to be open…or maybe the stoner curator lost the key in a cloud of smoke. Sad. I guess there is always the Hash Museum in Amsterdam. But that just sounds like a tired, boring cliché, like every coffee shop full of pot smokers wearing Bob Marley t-shirts. Yawn.
Anyway, I failed in my attempt at making today more cultural. It seems like you’re better off learning about the history of cannabis on Wikipedia than going to the Weed Museum here in the United States.
