How one DMV trip tested my patience, my hip, and my faith in government math

By OG Strain

There was a saying my old boss, Doug Brister, used to say all the time:

“Take the good with the bad.”

Back when I worked for Tri-City Trees doing groundwork, he’d say it whenever a day went sideways.

Some jobs paid great.

Some paid like the customer thought we were pruning houseplants instead of dropping full-grown trees.

But no matter what kind of day it was, Doug would shrug, grin, and remind us:

Take the good with the bad.

At the time, it just sounded like one of those old-school worksite sayings.

Now I realize it’s basically the official slogan of adulthood.

And after the day I just had, it might as well be tattooed across my forehead.

The Bad: Social Media Sent Me To Digital Jail

My Facebook account is still tied up in appeal.

My Instagram? Same deal.

Messenger? Gone.

Apparently somewhere out there, an algorithm looked at my account and decided I was too dangerous to be trusted with cannabis memes and late-night “yo what’s good?” messages.

And that part stings.

A lot of the people I’ve connected with over the years through this community, I only had through Messenger.

You never think they’re just gonna yank the digital rug out from under you.

But they did.

Which makes the timing even crazier because if there were ever a week I wanted to hit people up, this would be it.

Why?

Because finally…

The Good: OG Strain Is Back On The Road

After years without a vehicle due to health issues, I’m finally driving again.

And if you’ve ever lost that kind of independence, then you understand this isn’t just about transportation.

This is freedom.

This is being able to move when you want, where you want.

No arranging rides.
No waiting.
No depending on everybody else.

Just keys in hand and options again.

That feeling is priceless.

Unfortunately, to reclaim that freedom, I had to pass through the flaming bureaucratic gates of the DMV.

And that’s where things got uglier than a dispensary ounce that somehow still smells amazing.

Enter The DMV Dungeon

As many of y’all know, I’m disabled and dealing with a bad hip.

Standing for long periods isn’t exactly my idea of cardio.

Still, I came prepared.

Paperwork complete.
Everything organized.
Mindset positive.

I waited.

Got called up.

And then got hit with the classic DMV side quest:

A tiny section hadn’t been filled out by the seller.

No big deal, right?

The clerk explained my options.

Either have the seller correct it or let DMV determine the vehicle’s value their way.

Since I knew what I paid, I chose to track down the seller and get it corrected properly.

Mission accomplished.

I came back.

Waited again.

Got to the counter as they were closing.

And suddenly…

Now they didn’t believe the correction had been filled out by the seller.

Apparently I’d unknowingly become the criminal mastermind behind one of the most daring paperwork conspiracies in Schenectady history.

Forget Ocean’s Eleven.

This was Box-17-on-a-title-document.

Without accepting the correction, they moved forward using their own valuation.

Let’s just say by the time the numbers were done being “calculated,” my vehicle had apparently appreciated enough in one afternoon to qualify for collector’s-item status.

At this point I half expected them to tell me I’d accidentally purchased a limited-edition Lamborghini disguised as a Honda.

Meet Greg

Then came the manager.

Greg.

Now look, I’m not trying to roast the man.

Life’s too short.

But if unnecessary tension were a government-funded program, Greg would probably be regional director.

As I explained that repeatedly going back and forth was especially difficult due to my disability, the interaction only got more frustrating.

At one point, he referenced his own physical difference as if that somehow canceled out what I was experiencing.

That’s not how any of this works.

Different struggles are still struggles.

That’s like saying because one person gets migraines, someone else’s broken leg is somehow less inconvenient.

Meanwhile, my hip was throbbing, my patience was evaporating, and my bank account was being introduced to a level of taxation usually reserved for luxury yachts and small moon colonies.

Cannabis: The Real Customer Service Department

After that experience, I needed cannabis the way DMV employees need forms in triplicate.

This rain has had my arthritis acting like it’s auditioning for a dramatic soap opera.

Add in stress, frustration, and enough bureaucratic nonsense to make a monk swear, and let’s just say medicating became less of a hobby and more of an emergency response plan.

Cannabis has always helped me find balance.

It settles the physical pain.

It smooths out the mental static.

It reminds me that sometimes the best response to nonsense is a deep breath, a good strain, and remembering not to let temporary frustration become permanent energy.

Still…

That DMV trip definitely increased my “required dosage of chill.”

The Bigger Picture

Here’s the truth.

I’m frustrated.

Really frustrated.

But I’m also grateful.

Because despite all the nonsense, despite all the hoops, despite enough paperwork drama to qualify as a Netflix mini-series…

I’m free again.

Mobile again.

Moving again.

That matters.

That’s the good.

And the bad?

Well…

The bad makes for one hell of a magazine article.

Catch Me This Weekend

Now that I’m back on the road, I’ll be pulling up to one of this weekend’s canna events — either in Palenville or Fort Plain.

Whichever one it is, I’m showing up ready to laugh, smoke, reset, and reconnect with the community.

Because after a week like this, there’s nothing better than good people, good vibes, and enough loud to make DMV memories fade into the background.

If you see me, come say what’s up.

And if your opening line is “So what was the market value?”…

I’m walking away.

Probably limping slightly.

But still walking away.

Until next time, stay safe, medicate responsibly, and remember Doug’s words:

Take the good with the bad.

Even when the bad comes with fluorescent lighting and smells faintly like government disappointment.

https://suno.com/s/vymHet3gB7paxddm

By OG Strain for The Plug’s Pages

Every year on April 20th, something magical happens.

No, not taxes. Relax.

I’m talking about 4/20 — the unofficial, worldwide, roll-it-up-and-light-it cannabis holiday. A day where lighters flick in unison, smoke clouds form like weather systems, and even your one friend who “quit smoking” suddenly remembers they didn’t.

But here’s the wild part:
Most people celebrating 4/20 don’t actually know where it came from.

And if you’ve ever told someone, “Yeah bro, it’s a police code for weed,” I’m about to respectfully… and humorously… ruin your entire origin story.

⸻

The Myth: “We Have a 420 in Progress”

Let’s start with the most common explanation — the one that’s been passed around like a blunt at a house party.

The idea goes like this:
Police officers supposedly used “420” as a code for marijuana-related activity. You know, like:

“Dispatch, we got a 420 in progress.”

Sounds official. Sounds believable. Sounds like something that would absolutely ruin your vibe mid-session.

There’s just one problem…

It’s not true.

Police codes vary by department, city, and state — and “420” has never been a universal code for cannabis. In some places, it doesn’t even exist as a code at all. So while it makes for a cool, rebellious story, it’s basically cannabis folklore.

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The Real Story: Five High School Kids and a Treasure Hunt

Now here’s where things get interesting.

The true origin of 420 traces back to the early 1970s in San Rafael, California, with a group of high school students known as “The Waldos.”

No, not the guy from Where’s Waldo? — although they were just as hard to track down after school.

These five friends would meet up at exactly 4:20 PM — after sports practice — to search for an abandoned cannabis crop they heard rumors about near Point Reyes.

They used “420” as a code word so they could talk about their plans without parents, teachers, or anyone else catching on.

“420 after school?”
Translation: “Let’s go on a weed treasure hunt.”

Spoiler alert:
They never found the legendary stash.

But what they did find… was history.

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How 420 Went From Inside Joke to Global Movement

Now you might be thinking:

“How does a random group of teenagers turn a meetup time into an international holiday?”

Two words: right place. right connections.

The Waldos had ties to people associated with the band Grateful Dead — and if you know anything about Deadheads, you know they didn’t exactly gatekeep good vibes.

The term “420” started spreading through that circle like wildfire — from concerts to parking lots to, well… more parking lots.

Eventually, it made its way into magazines, most notably High Times, which helped cement 420 into cannabis culture permanently.

By the time the internet came around?
It was game over.

420 wasn’t just a code anymore.
It was a movement.

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Evolution of 420: From Secret Code to Cultural Holiday

What started as a low-key after-school link-up is now:

A global cannabis celebration
A symbol of unity and community
A day for advocacy, legalization, and awareness
And let’s be honest… a day to smoke like it’s your full-time job

From college campuses to city parks to full-blown festivals, 4/20 has evolved into something way bigger than its origin.

You’ve got events, concerts, product drops, dispensary deals, and enough smoke in the air to confuse local weather reports.

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The Meaning of 420 Today

420 isn’t just about lighting up anymore.

It represents:

The fight for legalization
The normalization of cannabis culture
The creativity, entrepreneurship, and lifestyle built around the plant

It’s a reminder of how far the cannabis community has come — from back-alley whispers to front-page headlines.

And somehow, through all that growth, it still holds onto its roots:

A group of friends.
A shared ritual.
A moment in time — 4:20 PM — where everything pauses… and the vibe begins.

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Final Hit (You Knew This Was Coming)

So next time someone says,
“420 is a police code,”

You can hit them with the truth:

“Nah… it’s actually from some high school kids who couldn’t find their weed.”

And honestly?
That might be the most relatable origin story in cannabis history.

Happy 4/20, everyone. Stay lifted, stay informed, and enjoy the holiday responsibly.

And remember…

If it’s 4:19…
you got a minute.

By Seymour Buds

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There’s a quiet moment after every purchase—the jar cracks open, the aroma rolls out, and for a second, everything feels exactly right. What happens next, however, determines whether that experience holds up days later… or disappears by the weekend.

Storing cannabis properly isn’t complicated, but it is widely misunderstood. Bags, jars, humidity packs, “double sealing”—everyone has a method, and not all of them are doing your flower any favors. This guide breaks down what actually works, what doesn’t, and why.

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What You’re Really Protecting

Before choosing storage, it’s important to understand what’s at stake. Cannabis quality depends on preserving:

Terpenes (aroma and flavor compounds)
Cannabinoids (THC, CBD, etc.)
Moisture balance (too dry or too wet both ruin the experience)

Exposure to air, light, heat, and improper humidity steadily degrades all three. Good storage isn’t about convenience—it’s about controlling those four variables.

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Plastic Bags: Convenient, but Costly

Let’s start with the most common option: bags.

Standard Sandwich Bags

Thin plastic bags—especially the fold-over kind—are the worst offenders. They are:

Not airtight
Prone to static (which pulls trichomes off your bud)
Permeable to oxygen over time

They may hold your cannabis, but they don’t protect it.

Ziploc Bags

A slight upgrade, but still not ideal. While they seal better:

They still allow gradual air exchange
They offer no structure (buds get compressed)
Static remains an issue

Ziplocs are fine for short-term transport, not storage.

“Curing” or Specialty Bags

Higher-end cannabis storage bags—often marketed for curing—are designed to regulate humidity. These can be effective if used correctly, but they are typically intended for bulk storage and controlled environments, not everyday consumer use.

Verdict on Bags:
Useful temporarily. Not recommended for preserving quality.

Glass Jars: The Industry Standard (For a Reason)

If there’s one storage method consistently backed by growers, retailers, and experienced consumers alike, it’s glass.

Mason Jars

Simple, affordable, and highly effective:

Airtight seal
No static
Non-reactive material
Preserves terpene profile

The key is choosing the right size—too much empty space inside the jar introduces excess oxygen.

Airtight Glass Containers

Higher-end jars (often with clamp lids or rubber seals) offer similar benefits with added durability and style. Functionally, they perform the same job as mason jars: keeping air out and freshness in.

Pro Tip: Add Humidity Control

Humidity packs (typically 58%–62%) help maintain the ideal moisture range, preventing:

Dry, brittle flower
Mold from excess moisture

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The Double-Seal Debate: Bags Inside Jars

It sounds logical—put your cannabis in a bag, then into a jar, and seal both. More layers must mean more protection, right?

Not quite.

Why It’s Usually a Bad Idea

Traps stale air inside the bag, even if the jar is airtight
Reduces the effectiveness of humidity packs
Reintroduces static and compression risks

In most cases, adding a bag inside a jar creates more problems than it solves.

When It Might Make Sense

There are limited scenarios—such as separating strains within one container or minimizing odor during travel—where bagging inside a jar is practical. But for quality preservation, it’s unnecessary.

Verdict: Skip the double seal for long-term storage.

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The Environment Matters More Than You Think

Even perfect containers fail in poor conditions.

For optimal storage:

Temperature: Keep between 60–70°F
Light: Store in a dark place (UV degrades cannabinoids)
Humidity: Maintain 55–65% relative humidity

A mason jar won’t save cannabis left on a sunny windowsill.

⸻

So, What’s the Best Method?

After cutting through the noise, the answer is refreshingly simple:

Store your cannabis in an airtight glass jar, in a cool, dark place, with proper humidity control.

No bags. No over-engineering. Just consistency.

⸻

Final Thoughts

Cannabis doesn’t demand much—but it does expect a little respect after purchase. The difference between a forgettable smoke and a memorable one often comes down to how it was stored in the days before it reached you.

A proper jar won’t make average flower exceptional—but it will ensure exceptional flower stays that way.

And in a market where quality matters more than ever, that distinction is worth preserving.