Quarantine’s a bitch, and it’s just getting started. With the nation’s economy in the bowels and a content shortage on the near horizon, now is the time to find new ways to be good to ourselves.
Like, two weeks ago I gave myself a gift. And I did it in the driveway of the house where I’d holed up for three months. I popped onto my tongue a square of Citrus Sativa, a new budget sublingual strip from Olo.
A few times at the gym I’d used Olo’s Active brand and found myself interestingly engaged in the workout. Meanwhile, Quid, a budget brand, activated in about 10 minutes. It was a sunny day, and I hit the pedals with greater intention and took a few cool corners. (WeedWeek does not endorse bicycling after consuming cannabis.)
Twice my ass got lost, too. Let’s not front.
I rode around downtown Fresno while only the people getting the city ready for daytime were in the streets. Outside a CVS, I pulled a second sublingual packet from my backpack: Quid’s Indica flipside, Berry.
Cooling out your cool-down is an underrated self-care strategy.
On my tongue the square melted. I jumped back on and rode toward the crib. Fast at first, then not so much.
As with getting lost, the full story of riding around with fortified intention must acknowledge another downside: With great Quid rides, a little hurt must follow.
When you’re as far past 40 as I, the removal of pain can be the greatest gift of all.
I found myself rubbing Care By Design’s 1:1 Cannabis Pain Cream on my lower back. Now, the compound CBD has been my jam for a while. This brand’s pain relief product? Remarkably effective. Beyond my own comfort, I have my girlfriend’s testimony that the stuff relieved her chronic pain over the course of a night.
There are so many ways to give gifts, especially when your gig gets you literally world-class pot products. … This is the part where I say that, in my search for great summer gifts—cheapest to most expensive—I got exceptionally baked.
No need to thank me for my service.
It was for the concept of guided gift-giving that I undertook rotation of Bloom Farms’ Wedding Cake Highlighter, Loud + Clear, from AbsoluteXtracts and Bloom Farms’ SFV OG . This vaping adventure was kind of a failure in that all the oils weren’t different enough. I got the same pleasant, productive high from each.
One afternoon I was near the end of a Connected Cannabis eighth, and I threw a bit into my newly arrived: Grav’s Wedge Bubbler ($69.95). The latest from Grav product designer Micah Evans, the Wedge fit fully into my palm like a flask.
I don’t know much about cooking with weed. Cooked with Cannabis is a Netflix thing I’ve watched, and that’s about it. But I know what makes my taste buds sing.
While pondering the nature of gift-giving, I got half a bottle into a Napa cannabis product that’s divine, not quite like white wine. A full bottle of that tasty House of Saka cannabis beverage contains 25 mg of THC. And, as mentioned, June was extra baked.
And this is the part where we talk about the infused food offerings at Mav Sauce. Days after my Saka tasting I had a meal of BBQ chicken and pasta with pesto, all fueled by Los Angeles-based Chef Maverick. Through her honey, pesto and BBQ sauces, Chef Mav gave happiness to my mouth. The Mav Sauce Red Velvet Brownie is the most indulgent thing you’ll do in quarantine.
The home-made meal made me realize, too late, that the House of Saka beverage would have paired well. Alas, I was out of the stuff.
Usually I tell people the all-occasions gift for me is a joint from Space Coyote. Now I’m asking for Mav Sauce honey, too. (The Brownie is just too decadent.)
I’ve come to see Satori’s sleek, impeccably infused, chocolate-covered strawberries as a flipside to Mav Sauce. (The latter’s products feel hand-made and some of their packaging seems so, too.) Dipped in milk chocolate, Satori’s strawberries are a sweet sourced from Italy that come on fast, through a fat-solubility process called VESIsorb®.
Yet, between Satori and Chef Maverick, I cannot say one brand was more healing than the other.
Over the writing of this gift guide I watched the fourth season of Rick and Morty, repeatedly. It can be tough to keep up with stoned, and the show’s trademark nihilism comes denser than ever. More than once I thought the remedy would be subscribing to Double Blind’s July class on how to grow mushrooms. (Get $40 off with the promo code WeedWeek40.)
But that was wishful revelry. Clearly I needed a more immediate lift. And here’s where that second, promised CBD discussion comes in.
I walked away from The Vat of Acid Episode, among the series’ most clever offerings, for about the third time, exited the quarantine home and produced a hand-rolled joint. Into it, I pushed a Mango Kush CBD Mood Stick ($14.50) from Trichome Shell.
Mood Sticks came to my attention last fall. The product is produced in Israel and makes every joint it infiltrates overflow with muchness. The only gift better than good weed is good, exotic weed. And these li’l guys are just that. I felt The Vat of Acid Episode differently next time.
At this point I was just going for it, hardly conscious of a gift premise to the consumption. I was tearing about packaging with abandon, looking for new shit to get into. And what says “going for it” more than vaping live resin on the run? So, I charged up G Pen’s Roam Vaporizer ($249.95).
Not a regular live resin user, I ordered up $40 worth of Jetty’s product. and placed the product under the little lid at the top again and again. Inside G Pen’s latest, which resembles an assault rifle cartridge, my concentrated THC heated up with simple ease. I’m still confused by how the water in its hydrotube stays put. G Pen has conjured up one post-BLM wonder, a bubbling product whose time has come.
The range of products available to us now, when we need them most, is astounding. From pain and anxiety relief to creative demands to plain old escapism, it’s all here for the delivering.
Donnell Alexander writes the WeedWeek California newsletter. His all-time favorite grunge song is “This Gift,” by Mudhoney.