My hometown was small, but not tiny.
It was technically a “city” based on its population size, but it had a small town atmosphere.
My dad was recognized everywhere we went, especially by employees and shop keepers. Many of the people he went to highschool with are still living in the same area and have kids of their own now. My dad used cannabis back in the 1970s growing up in the northern midwest. Some of the cannabis came from over the border, while he had friends that also went overseas in boats and brought it back in literal bundles to roll into joints and smoke. Back then most of the weed was pollinated so it had lots of seeds. Nowadays cannabis products usually only sell unpollinated female plants, formerly called “sensimilla.” At least that’s how all of the cannabis flower jars come from the dispensaries here in Denver. It’s nice to smoke a bowl of dried flower buds in my apartment before taking a walk down Humboldt Street to get to Cheesman Park. I like to read a book on my phone while sitting at the Pavilion at Cheesman Park; and it’s even better when you’re under the influence of cannabis at the same time. I take longer walks when the weather permits, particularly in the summer season. There is a marijuana dispensary south of Little Cheesman that often has sales on cannabis concentrates like live rosin and wax. If I know they’re running a sale and it’s not the middle of the winter, I’ll plan a long walk down there on my normal strolls in the neighborhood. Otherwise I’ll drive my car down Williams Street to get there.