Colorado is one of the few progressive states that have passed certain laws allowing for the medicinal use of marijuana and because of this strange and exciting turn in social awareness and acceptance pot dispensaries have been cropping up in cities all over the state. It is no secret that Colorado has long been hailed as the mecca of marijuana, the land of milk and honey, a place where organically cultivated high grade marijuana can be bought from the shelves of several different stores, in an open and honest atmosphere of acceptance. The question remains, are marijuana dispensaries all the same? While conducting several in-depth studies for an upcoming book, I was lucky enough to visit some of these dispensaries and talk with several of the owners. I look forward to speaking with more in the industry and anyone who is interested in the results of these studies will be happy to know, not all dispensaries are the same. Where there is need, there is money to be made, and unfortunately for some patients, these particular dispensaries are not concerned with their health and well-being but more concerned about turning a buck. I have struggled to overcome my reluctance on talking about specific stores because maybe deep behind their locked doors they all share some common bond, to bring medicine to those who need it. Unfortunately I have found that this isn’t the case at all. I was hesitant to talk about someone who not only offered their services, but helped a close friend out as well. But after three trips to the same place, I feel obligated as a journalist to spread the word of what Ive found. Natures Medicine is located in Loveland Colorado, the place where thousands of people mail their valentines cards every year to receive that one-of-a-kind postal stamp from the Land O’ Love. It is also the place where my family home still stands, a gentle reminder that we all come from a time more simple than now. When I heard that there was a marijuana dispensary in the very town that always seemed to roll up the sidewalks and retire at 6pm, I was more than shocked and determined to see the place myself. A short walk from the downtown Safeway sits an unassuming house, just a few blocks from the local church and steps from the Post Office. Walking into the shop I was greeted by the aroma of baked goods. A lovely young blonde, who’s name escapes though Im not sure it was offered, was checking patients in and escorting them to the back room. I spoke momentarily with the owner and sat down on the couch to observe the surroundings, pen in hand. I asked the owners if they were willing to do a story, maybe talk to some people about what they do there and what steps need to be followed for legal issues. They seemed open and receptive to the free advertisement process, so what was their crime? Why am I now writing about them in the negative past tense instead of cultivating a relationship? On a scale of 1-10, I give them a four. Sure, they are going to be there when your medication runs low, and their hours aren’t bad or short or inconvenient. In fact, they have some of the best hours of any dispensary Ive run across. I do not intend to ever go back to this particular place for several reasons. First being the service, marijuana makes people nervous and most people need their hands to be held through their first process. I am comfortable in these situations, for no other reason than pot relaxes me, but most people aren’t. I watched the owners of Natures Medicine ignore and humiliate a man who clearly needed nothing more than gentle guidance towards a doctor with compassion. Secondly, the medication I got there was not a high quality grade. I’ve never been to cannabis cup or grown my own, but when it comes to medication, I know whats quality and whats not. I chose a blend of Violet Femme and Strawberry Cough, the buds looked healthy, happy and tasty, but what did mother always say, Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. After taking it home and taking it out of the bag it came in, I was very disturbed with what I saw. Upon Closer inspection and consulting a professional, we found mold and clear signs that the grow was at best, novice. Even though it was better than the schwag my dad gave me in high school, I wasn’t willing to smoke medicine that didn’t look healthy. Lastly, Natures Medicine is so concerned about turning a buck that they will charge street price and add tax right on top of all of it. I watched a patient hand over nearly $1,200.00 and have to reach inside their wallet in order to get out one more hundred dollar bill to pay this “tax.” It isn’t enough for you to choose them over another dispensary, but they would like to take as much of your hard earned cash as possible. Ive only found one other dispensary that is willing to charge tax on top of street price but they were willing and able to waive the tax, in order to supply the patient with medication. Anyone with knowledge regarding the sale of any commodity would know, bulk prices get major discounts. This means that the medication being sold at street price, was probably received at a much lower price, affording the opportunity for the seller to offer discounts. An opportunity to offer a compassionate price to financially strapped patients, while still making a profit. An Opportunity that Natures Medicine did not take. At this point, Marijuana is a medication that remains uncovered by insurance companies and frowned upon by many. Out of pocket expenses are much higher than they would be, if your medication came from pharmaceutical companies and was covered by your insurance plan. Because of this fact, dispensaries are able to charge whatever they decide, lining their pockets with the extra cash. Dispensaries are important because they provide a legal way to get the medication you need but when a store chooses to overprice something that may make you sick, I question their very intentions. The people at Natures Medicine are providing several different strains, but none that I would use. After three trips to Natures Medicine, I assure you I do not have the desire to return.

© 2009, AntiSoccermom. All rights reserved to the original author unless stated otherwise.

I cruised the internets today in search of amusing movies I hadn’t yet seen before rushing off to the video store in order to find something to watch. You  know, that video store by the bay? Yeah, that one. Today I ran across a site claiming the top ten funny movies of the year. Sigh. I should have known better when I saw that Paul Blart, Mall Cop had made the list, but instead of giving in to the insistent urging in the back of my brain, I decided to give the movie a good old-fashioned college try. I spent two hours watching this film and when it never did take that turn to relevant city and insisted on staying the course all the way to coma-town, I had to come and tell you about it. As I sat down to write my scathing review of this pointless and drab film, I noted that I still was sunburnt from a decidedly lengthy afternoon in the sun, followed by a foolish 12 minutes under the lights of a tanning bed. My Irish heritage did not bless me with any extra pigment and in order to participate in summer time activities, I’d better get a tan before I turn into burnt toast and spend the first half of the summer nursing a second degree sunburn. This is a whole lot less glamorous than it sounds. I understand the pros and cons of tanning and generally spend two or three short sessions under the lights. Yes, I know it may give me cancer but I am willing to take the risk in order to prevent another “burning of 2004″ (may a large portion of my skin, RIP.) So when I reached for my computer and felt the tightening of the skin all over my body in tense awareness of how truly scalded I had made myself, it hit me. I couldn’t write a post solely devoted to Paul Blart, I had to thoroughly explain my discomfort the only way I know how. While a sun burn that covers every inch of my body, and I do mean every inch……. is painful, excruciating at times, It wasn’t nearly as painful as Paul Blart, Mall Cop. The movie that makes me wish I were blind, and deaf. The movie that made me embarrassed to be a humor writer, the movie that made me wish you could refund FREE. Instead of writing a review of this movie I will leave you with one parting thought. If I could choose to bear the pain of a horrible sunburn on my most private of parts, or watch Paul blart, Mall Cop again……. I just have to say that the pain of this sunburn will go away much faster than the pain of Kevin James as a bumbling mall cop/single dad schmuck on a mission to save a girl who doesn’t even like him from evil 14 year old mall terrorists. But you know, if you like that sort of thing, this movie is totally for you.

Now be honest, did you watch it?

© 2009, AntiSoccermom. All rights reserved to the original author unless stated otherwise.