This is it, #3,000!
Thanks to all of you who make the Stash more than just a blog, but a community. I remember when I was a closeted toker, a little green pea surrounded by big red Idaho, and how I used to question my sanity regarding marijuana – how could I know all of the reefer madness to be so obviously untrue, but everyone around me believes it hook, line, and sinker? I think of my daily rants and news gathering and how they would’ve lifted my spirits back in the day*. I hope it has that effect for you, and I think it does, judging by my emails.
Hope to meet you in Seattle, Boston, Washington DC, San Francisco, Madison, Orlando, or Key West this year! Take care of each other, tokers!
*…you know, before Internet, back when we had hard drives the size of Chryslers and used to dial into 2400 baud – yes, baud – bulletin boards with two tin cans, some string, and an Etch-a-Sketch…
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Stashers,
I remember the huge boxes of computer punch cards and my first modem at the engineering company I worked at with the telephone receiver cradle. Ah, those were the days.
Things are so much better now. Russ has created the Stash to be a gathering place for those of us who need a strong voice in the internet wilderness that is marijuana information. Thank goodness for this communication medium and the Stash. Finally, free thinking and free speech with little fear of reprisal. The Stash is unique in its form and purpose. We have Russ to thank for much of that.
As an old guy coming out of the pot closet more every year, I am privileged to have made the acquaintance of all my new Stash friends and the leader of this activist pack, Russ.
As I am stifled in my activism in my home area (including being stifled by my spouse, Shhhh
), I am so very glad that the Stash exists. It is, for me, a daily affirmation of sanity in the insane world of prohibition. I am proud to contribute.
Keep up the good work Russ. You have shown us (especially those of us who live in a repressive state
) that there is a way to have a voice while they are still shooting it out down the street 
in another drive-by or another mistaken SWAT raid.
You da man, Russ
ASCII decode sheets! Why, that’s luxury! Back in my day, we used to have to get up three hours before we awoke, rising from the hole in the ground where myself and me nine brothers and sisters slept, work nineteen hours turning gears on Babbage’s Difference Engine, and if we were lucky, our dear old Dad would only whip us for seven hours with a strap just three inches wide while we sobbed in our maggot-filled gruel, and that was on the nights we were given gruel, and never a bowl, mind you, but eaten out of our own hands! You kids these days…
(with apologies to Monty Python…)
Baud?!? I remember having to get on the “internet” with an ascii decode sheet and punch in my own 1′s and 0′s. You youngins and your fancy interwebs.