DYSCO’S CORNER

musings from a parent & Cannabis consumer

GARCIA & THE VOLCANO

“IS IT ALWAYS SUPPOSED TO HAVE SO MUCH SMOKE COMING OUT OF IT?” I ASKED GARCIA, MY 10 POUND CONSTANT COMPANION WHO WAS TEETERING PRECARIOUSLY ON TOP OF A PILE OF PILLOWS AT THE END OF THE COUCH. HE LOOKED UP BRIEFLY FROM THE VERY IMPORTANT JOB OF LICKING HIMSELF TO SEE WHAT ALL THE FUSS WAS ABOUT. AFTER SURVEYING THE SCENE, HE DECIDED THAT HE WAS MUCH MORE INTERESTED IN LICKING HIS, UH, BELLY THAN HE WAS INTERESTED IN DISCUSSING THE VOLCANO SPEWING SMOKE-LIKE VAPOR IN FRONT OF US.

“Volcano?!” one might ask. “What? Why is there a volcano in your living room? Did you mix up your baggies? Are you on psychedelics? Seriously, where are you?”

These are all fair questions I’m fully prepared to answer. Don’t worry - we weren’t in any mortal danger, nor were we on psychedelics. No lava or acid was involved.

The Volcano in question was metal, only about 10 inches high, and fit easily on my coffee table. This Volcano vaporizes Cannabis material without carboxylation. No one was harmed during the blast from this Volcano. Although, all that Cannabis vapor escaping into the room seemed to be mellowing Garcia out quite a bit.

But, I’m getting a little ahead of myself. I’ll get back to Garcia and the Volcano in a minute, but first, you have to understand that I have been on a two year quest to find the best way for me to consume Cannabis. As a medical patient who relies on Cannabis to treat my chronic pain, I have found that my body responds very differently to Cannabis depending on the type of material and delivery method utilized.

Dabbing concentrates typically affects me more in my head than smoking flower, so for daytime pain management, I prefer flower. Ideally, I would prefer to consume edibles, but to date, edibles do not work for me at all. Believe me, I’ve tried.

So for the last two years I was primarily using glass bongs, glass bowls, and pre-rolls to consume my flower.

Of course, anyone who knows me immediately understands the inherent risk of me being around all that glass. I’m definitely not the biggest bull in the china shop, but I’m probably the spazziest and least self-aware. I was spending a fortune replacing glass every time I broke another piece. Also, I was developing a wicked smoker’s cough.

musings from a parent & Cannabis consumer

Smoker’s cough? Yes, smoker’s cough. Back in my 30s, I thought I was Chantix-ed and done with smoker’s cough forever. I can’t imagine smoking a cigarette ever again. I had a terrible hack when I was a cigarette smoker, but at least I sort of felt like I deserved it back then - like it was penance for my disgusting and unhealthy habit. But now? Yuck. Is there anything worse than hacking pieces of your lungs out every time you need to medicate? Clearly, that’s a rhetorical question. Even Garcia knows that there are worse things than smoker’s cough, but let’s all agree that smoker’s cough is a huge bummer for everyone involved. A smoker’s cough from medical Cannabis treatment seems like adding insult to injury. My mother did her best to raise me as a lady, but it is impossible to be ladylike when trying to suppress that constant jagged rattle in your chest. God forbid you start coughing around other people and have to excuse yourself so you can deposit part of your lung in the toilet. Each coughing fit alarms everyone around you unlucky enough to be within spitting distance. Not even a supermodel could look sexy with a smoker’s cough.

WHAT WOULD A SUPERMODEL DO?

So, back to the Volcano in my living room. I must have been rattling off all these thoughts out loud because Garcia looked up at me as if to say, “Uhh, you’re no supermodel.”

Yeah, not exactly the point. But thanks, Garcia. You have three snaggle teeth and an underbite.

I know I’m no supermodel. I also know that I’m not the only one who tells myself that it’s not crazy to appear to be talking to yourself, as long as you are actually having a conversation with your pet. Garcia had been my main technical consultant on the Volcano ever since its arrival earlier in the week, and between us, he really wasn’t much help. The two of us approached operating the Volcano like two middle schoolers working on their science fair project, and so far, we were getting Fs.

By the way, the Volcano in question was the Cannabis vaporizer made by Storz & Bickel. I bought it to solve my glass and coughing problems. It’s not the only vaporizer on the market, but I think it’s the most established quality machine. It wasn’t cheap, but I am very happy I bought it. Totally worth it!

I haven’t chosen to smoke my flower with glass since I got the Volcano. I haven’t broken any rigs and my cough is almost totally gone. The only problem was all the Cannabis vapor spilling into the room. Usually, the flower vapor shoots from the Volcano top into a big plastic bag, similar to a Glad oven bag, where it’s contained until you inhale it through a plastic mouthpiece. But that day, the Volcano seemed to be expelling more vapor into the room than into the bag.

I couldn’t figure it out. The room was much hazier than usual. Garcia had conveniently run out of suggestions and become very mellow. His eyes were barely at half mast, and he looked like he was about to roll off his pillow throne any second.

I peered at the clear plastic bag to see if I could locate a tear. The bag was so crinkly, it took me a few minutes and a trip to the car for my reading glasses before I located three little punctures on each side of the bag.

Huh? I wonder how those got there. No worries, that’s what tape is for. I covered the holes with tape and got back to business. The tape seemed to do the trick. The Cannabis vapor stayed in the bag.

HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT Fast forward to the next day. I was so frustrated. I couldn’t find the bag to use with the Volcano. I knew I hadn’t misplaced the bag, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. I turned to ask Garcia if he’d seen the bag and mouthpiece, when I realized he was acting very chill...again.

He hadn’t been his usual annoying, yapping self. He was plopped down on top of his pillows, one paw draped over the other, guarding something underneath his belly. Once I put my glasses on, I could clearly see what looked suspiciously like a Glad oven bag.

Garcia was the culprit! That Judas. He had stolen the Volcano bag and was now guarding it, like it was his toy. I considered taking it from him, but I knew enough to know I wouldn’t come out of that battle unscathed. Garcia might only have a few teeth left, but he’s not afraid to use them. The Volcano bag and every member of my family can attest to that fact.

I wanted to get angry at Garcia for stealing my plastic bag, but how could I? It clearly made him relaxed and happy.

Everybody deserves to be happy. And I have more oven bags. I learned a long time ago, you can never have too many baggies on hand. -Dysco I HAVEN’T CHOSEN TO SMOKE MY FLOWER WITH GLASS SINCE I GOT THE VOLCANO. I HAVEN’T BROKEN ANY RIGS AND MY COUGH IS ALMOST TOTALLY GONE.