I DON’T WANT TO WASTE ANOTHER DAY: WHY I’M BUILDING MY LEGACY IN THE 518 CANNABIS COMMUNITY

I’m 49 years old, and lately, I’ve been thinking about something that hits a little differently when you get to this stage of life: time doesn’t slow down for anybody, and none of us knows how much of it we have left.

It feels like I was just a kid yesterday. Now, here I am, approaching 50, looking back at how quickly the years have disappeared. Half my life may already be behind me, possibly more. Ten or twenty years might sound like a long time, but the truth is, none of us is guaranteed even that. Life can change in an instant, and tomorrow is never promised.

That realization has me looking at everything differently. I don’t want to waste another day, another hour, or another minute doing something that doesn’t mean anything to me. I want to make the absolute most of the time I have left. I want to wake up every morning knowing I’m doing something I genuinely love, spending time with people I respect, and building something that will mean something long after I’m gone.

I want every day to be the best day it can possibly be.

And the more I think about what that means for me, the more I realize that cannabis is a big part of the answer.

But it’s not just about getting high. If that were all this was about, I would have lost interest a long time ago.

For me, cannabis is about the flower, the flavors, the different strains, the people behind the plants, the growers putting their hearts into their craft, and the personalities that make this industry what it is. It’s about the conversations, the friendships, the laughs, the events, and the connections you make with people who share your passion.

Over the years, I’ve met some incredible characters in this industry. Some started out as acquaintances, some as business connections, and some as people I simply wanted to learn more about. Today, many of them are people I consider genuine friends.

And that’s when it really hit me: I’m not just passionate about cannabis. I’m passionate about the community that surrounds it.

That community has become a huge part of what makes my days meaningful. It gives me something to look forward to, something to work toward, and something I can contribute to. And if I’m going to spend my time on this earth doing something, I want it to be something I love.

I want to be able to look back one day and know I made a difference.

SO, WHO THE HELL IS OG STRAIN?

Over the last two years, Tim Strain has evolved into OG Strain. What started as a passion has grown into something much bigger, and naturally, people have started asking me a question:

“What exactly are you trying to build here?”

It’s a fair question.

I’m not a commercial grower. I’m not a distributor. I’m not trying to own a cultivation facility or build a cannabis company. My lane is different, and I’ve been figuring that out as I go.

I write about cannabis. I review strains. I share my experiences and opinions. I cover the people, products, businesses, and events that make this industry tick. Through Strain’s Strain Reviews (Talk Cannabis) and my writing for The Plug’s Pages Magazine, I’m building a name, a platform, and a reputation in the New York cannabis scene.

But if you think my goal is simply to rack up views, collect followers, or put my name on a bunch of articles, you’re missing the bigger picture.

Honestly, I want to be the 518’s “Dope As Yola.”

I want to become the cannabis personality people recognize, the guy people look forward to seeing at events, the reviewer whose opinion they respect, and the writer whose work they actually want to read. I want to be somebody people know by name, not because I’m the loudest person in the room, but because I’ve earned my place in the community.

I want to be THAT GUY.

The guy who walks into a cannabis event and gets greeted by people from every corner of the industry. The guy who can strike up a conversation with a grower, a brand owner, a budtender, a fellow reviewer, or somebody attending their very first cannabis festival and feel equally comfortable with all of them.

The guy who can sit down with people who have completely different backgrounds, experiences, and opinions and still find common ground.

And yes, I want to be the guy standing in line at a cannabis festival when the host spots me and says, “Hey, that’s OG Strain! What the hell is he doing standing in line? Everybody knows OG. Get that man in here!”

I’m not going to lie. That would make me smile.

Not because I think I’m better than anybody else, and certainly not because I believe I’m entitled to special treatment. It’s because that moment represents something much more meaningful than skipping a line.

It represents recognition.

And here’s something people should understand: I’m not just talking about some fantasy scenario that I hope happens someday. It has happened before.

There have been times when I’ve been welcomed into festivals and shows without having to pay admission, and times when I’ve been recognized and waved past the line. Does it happen every time? Of course not. I don’t expect it to, either. But when it does happen, I can’t begin to explain what that feeling means to me.

Imagine pouring your time, energy, and passion into something, often without getting paid for the hours you put in, and then having somebody unexpectedly show you that they noticed.

That’s what it feels like.

It’s confirmation that the work I’m doing is being seen and appreciated. It’s a reminder that the relationships I’ve built mean something and that I’m becoming more than just another guy with a camera or a social media account.

And honestly? That feeling is worth more to me than the free admission itself.

Because I’m not trying to buy my way into this community. I’m trying to earn my place in it.

FIFTY HOURS A WEEK. ZERO EXPECTATIONS.

Here’s something people might not realize about what I do.

Between writing, reviewing, creating content, sharing information, connecting people, supporting businesses, and helping others get their names and products in front of an audience, I can easily put in 50 hours a week.

And much of that time is time I donate.

I’m not walking around handing out invoices every time I help somebody. I’m not keeping a running tab of favors, waiting for somebody to pay me back. When I see a person or a business doing things the right way and genuinely contributing something worthwhile to the community, I want to support them.

If I can help a good business get noticed, I want to help. If I can introduce people who could benefit from knowing each other, I’m happy to make that connection. If I can share somebody’s work, highlight a product, write an article, or bring attention to something deserving, I’ll do what I can.

I want to see good people succeed. I want to see hardworking businesses thrive. And I want to see the New York cannabis community become a place where people can build real relationships, support one another, and grow together.

But don’t mistake my willingness to support people for a willingness to compromise my integrity.

Not every business is going to get my support, and not every product is going to get a glowing review. Having a platform means having a responsibility to be honest about what I experience. My credibility matters, and I’m not willing to sacrifice it just to make somebody happy.

Supporting this community doesn’t mean pretending everything is perfect. It means recognizing the people who are putting in the work, doing things properly, and treating others with respect.

And I do this because I genuinely enjoy it.

Still, let’s be real: when you put 50 hours a week into something, it means something when people notice.

I don’t expect free admission to every festival. I don’t expect special treatment from every business I support. I don’t believe writing an article or reviewing a strain automatically earns me a favor.

But when somebody remembers what I’ve done and says, “OG, you’re good. Come on in,” I appreciate the hell out of it.

It tells me the relationship goes beyond a transaction. It tells me they see me as part of their community.

And that feeling is priceless.

I RETURN ENERGY. ALWAYS HAVE, ALWAYS WILL.

There’s a saying I live by: I look out for the people who look out for me.

I return energy.

If somebody supports my work, gives me opportunities, shares my content, includes me in something special, or simply takes the time to show genuine appreciation, I remember it. I notice who makes an effort, who reaches out, who keeps their word, and who treats people well when there’s nothing obvious to gain.

And when somebody shows me that kind of respect, I want to return it. Maybe that means supporting their next event, highlighting their work, writing about something they’re doing, sharing their accomplishments, or simply showing up when they need somebody in their corner.

Real relationships are built through consistency, trust, and mutual respect.

I also understand that nobody can support everybody all the time. People have their own lives, businesses, families, responsibilities, and financial realities. I don’t expect everyone to do something for me just because I’ve done something for them.

This isn’t about keeping score. It’s about recognizing genuine effort and appreciating the people who make this journey worthwhile.

And that’s where things get complicated.

Because as much as I love this community, I’m not blind to the fact that there are a few rotten apples who threaten to spoil the whole bunch.

There are people whose jealousy, dishonesty, selfishness, and malicious behavior can do real damage to the very community so many of us are working hard to build. Some things go beyond ordinary disagreements or business competition. Sometimes, the behavior is genuinely disturbing, and good people end up paying the price for somebody else’s bitterness.

But here’s what I refuse to let those people do: make me lose faith in everybody else.

Because for every person trying to tear others down, there are genuinely loving, sincere people who remind me what this community is supposed to be about.

People who celebrate somebody else’s success instead of resenting it. People who support others without expecting anything in return. People who lead with kindness, treat others with respect, and choose love over jealousy.

People who are passionate about cannabis but understand that the human beings behind the plants, brands, and businesses matter just as much.

THOSE are the people I do this for.

They’re the reason I keep investing so much of my time, energy, and myself into this community. They remind me that the actions of a few bad people don’t define the rest of us.

And when I see people I care about being mistreated, targeted, or dragged down by malicious behavior, I’m not always willing to sit quietly on the sidelines.

I’ve been willing to put myself and my own safety at risk to stand up for people I believe in. I don’t say that to sound like a hero, and I’m certainly not looking for a fight. I say it because loyalty means something to me, and sometimes doing what you believe is right comes with consequences.

I know standing up for people doesn’t always make you popular. Sometimes it makes you a target. But I would rather stand up for people I love than abandon them just to make my own life easier.

I’m not going to let a handful of bad apples make me forget the good people who make this community worth fighting for.

And I’m certainly not going to let jealousy dictate how much success somebody else deserves.

There’s room for more than one reviewer, writer, creator, grower, or personality to succeed. Someone else’s success doesn’t have to come at my expense.

In fact, when good people succeed, I consider that a win for all of us.

I’M NOT TRYING TO BE FAMOUS. I’M TRYING TO BE REMEMBERED.

There’s a difference between being known and actually meaning something to people.

Anybody can chase attention. You can buy advertisements, flood social media, put your face on everything, and try to make yourself impossible to ignore. But attention doesn’t automatically translate into respect, and being recognizable doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve made a difference.

What I want is something deeper.

I want growers to know that I appreciate their craft. I want small businesses to know their hard work matters. I want fellow creators to know I’m willing to support good work without treating everyone like a competitor.

I want people to feel comfortable approaching me at events. I want conversations that turn into friendships and friendships that last long after the music stops and the festival grounds empty out.

I want to be invited into rooms because people genuinely want me there.

And if somebody introduces me to a new person by saying, “You’ve got to meet OG Strain,” I hope it’s because I’ve earned a reputation worth passing along.

Not a name that depends on one viral video, one popular review, or one big event. A name built through years of showing up, doing the work, treating people fairly, and being somebody others can count on.

I know I won’t be everyone’s cup of tea. Nobody is. Some people will agree with my opinions, and others won’t. Some will love my personality, and others might not understand it.

That’s life.

I’m not trying to make every single person like me. I’m trying to be somebody people can respect, even when we don’t see eye to eye.

And if I can accomplish that while having a hell of a good time doing something I love, I’d call that a pretty damn good life.

THE REAL REASON I DON’T WANT TO WASTE ANOTHER DAY

At 49, I understand something I didn’t fully appreciate when I was younger: time is the one thing you cannot get back.

You can lose money and earn it again. You can lose an opportunity and find another one. You can make mistakes, learn from them, and take a different path.

But once a day is gone, it’s gone.

I don’t want to spend my remaining years waiting for the perfect moment to start living the life I want. I don’t want to waste my energy on pointless arguments, unnecessary drama, or competition that doesn’t move anybody forward.

And I don’t want to spend my time trying to impress people who don’t care about me while overlooking the people who do.

I want to spend my days doing things that matter to me, with people who make life better.

I want to enjoy the flower, explore new strains, meet the people, attend the festivals, tell the stories, write the articles, make the videos, and keep discovering what this industry has to offer.

Cannabis opened a door for me, but the people I’ve met along the way have given me even more reasons to keep walking through it.

The friends who welcome me with a smile, the people who support my work, the ones who celebrate others instead of tearing them down, and the good-hearted people who make this community feel like home remind me that my time is being spent on something worthwhile.

That’s what makes this bigger than a hobby.

It’s purpose. It’s connection. It’s having something you love enough to give it your best, even when nobody’s paying you to do it.

If I can help a few good businesses grow, introduce people who become lifelong friends, make somebody laugh, stand up for someone who needs it, and leave this industry a little better than I found it, then I will feel that my time was well spent.

And that brings me to the real question.

SO, WHAT’S THE ENDGAME FOR OG STRAIN?

I’m building a reputation, a network, a platform, and a legacy.

I want to become one of those familiar faces in New York cannabis, someone people recognize from their screens and are genuinely happy to see in person. I want to walk into a room and find friends in every direction. I want my work to open doors to new experiences, meaningful relationships, and opportunities to contribute even more.

And yes, I want to become the 518’s go-to cannabis personality.

I want to be the guy people remember because I gave them a reason to remember me.

Maybe someday, I’ll walk into a festival and hear somebody shout, “OG STRAIN! Get over here!”

Maybe I’ll be waved past the line again. Maybe someone will insist on getting me through the door because they appreciate the work I’ve put in. And maybe I’ll find myself standing there for a moment, taking it all in, realizing that something I started simply because I loved it has grown into something I once only imagined.

When that happens, I’ll smile, say thank you, and appreciate the hell out of it.

Then I’ll get back to doing what I came there to do: meeting people, supporting good businesses, discovering great cannabis, and enjoying the community that made this whole journey worthwhile.

Because the free ticket isn’t the prize.

The relationships are. The respect is. The knowledge that your work meant something to somebody is.

And I want to be clear about one more thing: I’m not building this legacy alone. Every person who has supported me, welcomed me into their business, invited me to an event, shared my content, offered encouragement, or simply taken the time to get to know me has become part of this story.

To those people, thank you. I see you. I appreciate you. And when you show me genuine love, you can bet I’m going to do my best to return it.

As for the people who choose jealousy over kindness, destruction over cooperation, and bitterness over celebrating somebody else’s success? They can do what they do. They don’t get to decide what this community becomes, and they sure as hell don’t get to decide what I do with the time I have left.

I DO.

I’m going to keep writing. I’m going to keep reviewing. I’m going to keep showing up for the people who deserve support. And when somebody tries to convince me that the bad outweighs the good, I’ll remember the friends I’ve made, the hands that have reached out to help me, and every moment that reminded me why I started this journey.

I’m 49 years old. I don’t know how many years I’ve got left, and neither do you.

But I know this: I’m not interested in sitting around waiting for life to happen. I’m not interested in spending my days chasing approval or playing somebody else’s game.

I’ve found something I love. I’ve found people worth standing beside. And I’ve found a community where I believe I can make a difference.

Now it’s time to see just how far I can take it.

So, to the growers, the creators, the small businesses, the event organizers, and every genuine, good-hearted person helping make New York cannabis what it is: I’m here, I’m invested, and I’m just getting started.

The next chapter is still being written.

And if you see me at the next festival, come say hello. You might catch me reviewing a new strain, laughing with friends, supporting a vendor, or making a connection that turns into something bigger than either of us expected.

And who knows? Maybe you’ll be there when another door opens.

Because I’m not chasing a free ticket. I’m not chasing a little internet fame. I’m building something that I hope will outlast the next trend, the next viral video, and even the name on the front of my shirt.

I’m building a legacy.

THE 518 HAS A LOT OF GOOD PEOPLE. I’M HERE FOR THEM. I’LL STAND UP FOR THEM. AND I’M GOING TO KEEP BUILDING WITH THEM.

Life is too short to do anything less.

Four quarters, not 100 pennies.

OG Strain isn’t done yet. Not even close.