I do recognize the irony in posting this a day late, being that it is no longer actually 420. This is more of a homage to the days in which that really meant something. 420 is now spent writing all day and serving tables all night like every other day of every other week of my life. But there were the years, many many moons ago that 420 was a full blown holiday getting more of my attention than any religious holiday. So a nod goes out to my hippie years spent in the grass at Woodgate park and skipping class in the back of Jeep. 420 was spent playing frisbee golf in long flowing peasant skirts and handmade tops, wearing thick hemp necklaces with fat glass beads from Clown. We would run around barefoot and mad with joints hanging on our lower lip, waiting for someone, always waiting. It was a beautiful life living in Minneapolis but those days have long since passed. I am just happy now, that worlds away, I have something so hilarious and lovely to look back on.