There’s a first-gen Toyota Tacoma sitting on the street outside my hotel room, rusting away in the Juneau sun. As far as I can tell, it looks like it’s abandoned, judging by the number of parking tickets plastered to the windshield, and by the amount of trash, parts, and assorted debris leaking out of the doors and tailgate, like the entrails of a slaughtered animal. It’s a shame to see it sit there and rot – the V6 3.4 liter engine was unkillable, and as a small pickup, the Tacoma was about the best platform you could ask for. Hell, they named actual wars after the overseas variant, and every ISIS propaganda flick you see seems to have a fleet of white Hiluxes in the background, festooned with flags and light weaponry.

Another bombed-out relic that rots away where it stands is the Polaris Building in Downtown Fairbanks, the topic of much public testimony during Thursday’s Senate Finance committee meeting. Fairbanks Mayor David Pruhs requested $3 million dollars to assist with demolition of the site, while several of his constituents called in to support the request. They argued that the building was a dangerous eyesore – and, with regards to the $3 million, due to the amount of dangerous chemicals within the structure itself, demolition costs had necessarily increased.

And speaking of dangerous chemicals, the day is upon us. The most annoying guys you know will phone you up and ask if you’re more of a sativa or an indica dude, or “have you just not found the right strain yet?” Across the world, mood lights will be dimmed and Phish records will be cranked to earth-shaking intensity – and all because of a group of California teens who decided to meet by a statue at 4:20 in the afternoon to smoke what I can only assume was mostly stems. (It’s a slow news day, work with me here.)

Yes, readers, yesterday was 4/20, the official day to kick back and spark up some Nuclear Sour, some Electric Wizard, or even some Atomic Dogshit. Sound off with some more strain names in the comments, I want this to be a collaborative effort. Of course, by the time this is published, it’ll be 4/21, so the moment will have passed, but when reading this, if you can put yourself back in yesterday’s state of mind, it’ll amplify the experience.

Personally, I’m not a “weed guy” as it were – I’ve found it saps whatever motivation I have to sit down and write these things. If I have any one specific vice besides alcohol and sniffing bathroom cleaning products, it’s probably progressively larger and larger guns, and correspondingly large bullets with which to feed them, like any normal red-blooded American.

Alaska’s status as the third state in the country to legalize recreational consumption of grass made us sort of a national trendsetter, leading to a veritable wealth of dispensaries cropping up in Anchorage and around the state. It does make one wonder whether the market is oversaturated, given the presence of a weed store (it seems) on every street corner. At some point, the speculation goes, the skunk-scented bubble will pop.

In Downtown Juneau, for instance, there are three legal weed stores within a half-mile of each other, along with a glass store just up the hill. Call me reductive or whatever, but grass doesn’t seem like a drug that draws a lot of politicos. It’s hard to get policies passed through committee when you’re afflicted with the world’s worst couchlock off a hit of Solar Catastrophe Sour Diesel. Depressants and policy-making don’t seem to mix.

If Joe McGinniss’ coverage of Juneau in the 70s is to be believed (along with decades of pop culture involving suspiciously dusty car keys and credit cards), the drug of choice (if there is one) for the legislative elite has been and always will be cocaine and other stimulants. Stories about Juneau’s drug scene in the late 1970s, when oil money flowed like water, are legendary for their blow-infused debauchery – doing lines off the tables in the finance committee room, and such. Everything was great if you were writing policy, and if you could keep your head about you in a huckster-infused town, so much the better.

Now everything’s different – we’re more civilized. Things aren’t as exciting. During a Thursday House floor session, HB 104, Wednesday’s much debated bill related to expedited timber sales, was passed out of the House and was sent to the Senate. Meanwhile, HB 141, the act establishing Don Young Day as June 9, was sent to the Senate as well. Thursday’s advancement of Young’s memorial is ironically sort of fitting, in a way, given his semi-rare status as a Republican in favor of marijuana decriminalization.

Fly high, Congressman Young – and to the rest of my degenerate readers, fly high in a different kind of way. Tomorrow there will be actual reporting on actual events. For now, crank the first Arcs album and try not to have to call out of work tomorrow.