It's time I come out to you, my faithful readers. I smoke pot. I didn't try it until I was in grad school, around age 23, and I smoked intermittently until I moved to California. Suddenly, I had a MMJ card and I could buy, possess, and imbibe it legally.

The first time I walked into a dispensary, I felt like Dorothy landing in Oz. There I stood, awed by the extensive menu of strains, the kind staff members behind the counter, and the plethora of options for imbibing my new medication. I nervously asked what was good, the way I would ask a bartender standing in front of an impressive wall of spirits. The staffer sensed my unease, smiled, and asked, "First time here?"

"First time anywhere," I replied grinning, "you get to pop my cherry."

"We'll be sure to make it a great experience for you," he assured me.