I don’t dig the name of this strain. It’s not that I hate the Dead, or actually I kind of do, not because its music is terrible, though some of it is, but because I really dug it for a couple of years in high school and our own past selves should always embarrass us—if you’re not embarrassed by your past, you haven’t grown enough. But what I mainly hated about the Grateful Dead scene was how it was really the opposite of the ideals it advertised. I got some good drugs at shows, but I got ripped off just as often and it was really creepy the way that the old “tour heads” always gave free drugs to the young high-school-age girls we were hanging with and took them off to their vans. It seemed like a rolling capitalist huckster shit show. But this weed isn’t a rip-off and according to the pot site Leafly, it is a hybrid of Chemdawg91 and SFV OG Kush and it has a lot of kush-y characteristics in terms of both flavor and effect. It’s got a skunky taste, with the slight scent of marsh grass and spanish moss. It also has the potential to produce anxiety. A world away from the Dead, I was listening to Young Moose’s “O.T.M. 3 (Something Out of Nothing)” as I smoked this and thinking about the way that . . . actually, my thoughts skittered around. I was trying to think about what it means for Moose to diss Det. Daniel T. Hersl and his probation officer and it got me thinking about my own arrests as a young guy for weed and how, back then, when I was a Deadhead during the height of the Reagan-Bush War on Drugs, I was hassled nearly weekly. The cops could fuck with me, call me a fag, throw me against the car. But I was white so the courts didn’t—I’d get counseling or something instead of getting locked up for longer than a night.
I got caught up in those thoughts for a while—as Longfellow says, “thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts”—and decided to go for a walk and I felt good as the city swam by, the sky shining white like a dirty pearl. But I was exceedingly awkward all night. Twice I tried to shake someone’s hand and bumped weirdly into it. I was like that with everyone, self-consciously playing music, making a mistake, noticing it, and then dwelling on it, curiously rather than unpleasantly, and then making another mistake because of it, and so on. But I didn’t feel bad about it, just distant.
Nose: skunk, marsh grash, Spanish moss
Existential Dread: 4
Freaking Out When a Crazy Person Approaches You: 7
Drink Pairing: Rye whiskey
Music Pairing: Young Moose, ‘Fucked Up’