One glorious day a year you may find some of your more eccentric co-workers mysteriously missing simultaneously. Off campus college housing suddenly morphs from a busy highway of student traffic to an ultra V.I.P. lock down. A short walk down any street in the U.S. may have you saying, “Man there are a lot of skunks out this spring.”
Sorry, no black and white rodent can create the sweet smell of the sticky-icky like the green goddess of creativity herself, cannabis. Yes ladies and gents, waft the air for your free nose full of some sour diesel, acapulco gold, purple haze, white rhino, maui wowie, headies, kind buds, middies, and even some good ole semi-brown nick bag dirt weed. Today is 420, and if you smoke it…they will come.
420 is a holiday celebrated by a counter-culture that is widely ignorant of it’s conception. Mary Jane is good for what ails ya, but she hasn’t exactly figured out the whole short term memory thing. No worries, we’re here to educate you on the amazing events which transpired to bring this hippie holiday to life.
420 originated from a group of teenagers at San Rafael High School in San Rafael, California, United States in 1971. The teens would meet after school at 4:20 p.m. to smoke marijuana at the Louis Pasteur statue.
According to an April 2009 article on the The Huffington Post, the group called itself the Waldos because its members hung out by a wall after school. Writer Ryan Grim, citing interviews with anonymous Waldos, claims that the group met by the statue at 4:20 p.m. to begin a search for a crop of abandoned cannabis growing near Point Reyes that they had heard about. They never found the stash, Grim writes, but smoked plenty of marijuana while looking for it.
So there it is token tokers. How much more fitting can this get? A group of high high school cats that hung out by walls, smoked to a statue commemorating our father of pasteurization, and took a hike to find a long lost weed field in Cali, picked a random-ass time out of the afternoon and created a world-wide social phenomena. Sounds like a good enough reason to pull a milky load out of the bong to me.
Happy Holiday! Let the Chronicles of Narnia commence.