Counterintuitive but true: Pot can make you more productive.

One of my favorite things to do is get stoned to the bejesus and clean house. And I’m not just talking about casual dusting, either; I’m talking about down on your belly, shoving the long extension vacuum tool deep under the bed and sucking up dust mites and fur balls, only to discover long-lost socks, exercise equipment, underwear (whose are those?!), and enough change to go out and buy MORE weed to smoke and then Shop-Vac the garage. In this way, stoned cleaning is a sustainable endeavor.

Hyperactive cleaning, you may say—but that’s counterintuitive! The stereotype, of course, is that smoking marijuana puts you on the couch, not wildly vacuuming under it. But like so much Reefer Madness, the clichés are all wrong. Turns out cannabis has been proven to aid in focus and concentration, as the body contains cannabinoid receptors for THC that can stimulate and modulate our brain’s neurotransmitters. In states where medical marijuana is legal, it’s even being used to treat attention-deficit disorders, replacing prescription stimulants like Adderall, Ritalin, and Concerta that have nasty side effects and withdrawal symptoms.

“Cannabis appears to treat ADD and ADHD by increasing the availability of dopamine,” noted Dr. David Bearman, who has spent 40 years looking into drug-abuse treatment and uses for medical marijuana. “This then has the same effect but is a different mechanism of action than stimulants like Ritalin (methylphenidate) and dexedrine amphetamine, which act by binding to the dopamine and interfering with the metabolic breakdown of dopamine.”

I know what the Doc’s talkin’ about! When I smoke weed, the THC gives my often scattered flea-brain laser-focus; I’m like Mr. Clean on steroids—intensely scrubbing the grout, determinedly deodorizing and disinfecting, even fire-hosing the disgusting recycling bins caked with foodstuff, wine splatter, and spaghetti sauce. Two-fisted Cannabis Clean!

“The most accepted theory about ADHD rests on the fact that about 70 percent of the brain’s function is to regulate input to the other 30 percent,” Dr. Bearman corroborates. “Basically the brain is overwhelmed with too much information coming too fast. In ADHD, the brain is cluttered with and too aware of all the nuances of a person’s daily experience.” In essence, pot can drive millions of incoming ideas out of your monkey mind, and allow you to focus on the tasks at hand—like spiderweb removal whilst listening to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars.

For me, getting baked is like a triple espresso, with a shot of spiritual matcha chai on the side. My attitude is energetic and focused, with a little theatrical whimsy thrown in for good measure. Suddenly an overwhelming task such as organizing the jam-packed kitchen drawers becomes an important NASA mission! Run by Commander Clutter-be-Gone, the vital undertaking will be executed quickly, efficiently, and with a few odd brogue verbal commands uttered randomly throughout the exercise. High on ganja, the steps become crystal-clear: EVERYTHING must be dumped on the counter, and items slowly reintegrated into the newly labelled (and vacuumed!) drawers: Sharp Things, FSK, Expired Coupons, TupperWare, and a Catch-All drawer for rubber bands, pens, matches, odd keys, and those fawking square things you twist around a plastic bread bag. Two hours later I’ve made Martha Stewart look like a disorganized lowbrow street thug. Not only are the new drawers impeccably organized, they’ve been lined beautifully with all that excess wrapping paper I couldn’t find a place for.

Now has marijuana ever derailed my efforts at cleaning? Yes. Certainly. In fact, I once began with a toilet wand in my hand and somehow wound up naked in my living room under one of the most amazing pillow forts ever created.

Stoned cleaning sometimes leads to related but tangential tasks, such as trips to the refrigerator (more for munching than defrosting), getting lost in family photo albums, and cleaning out closets. While conducting a fashion show for my friend Julie (to determine which items needed to be given away), I began to see how truly cluttered my life had become. Who needs five baseball hats and a dozen belts? Getting rid of the weight of 1,000 unworn Tommy Bahama shirts lifted my worldly burden, and I began tossing unwanted paperweights, plastic cups, filing cabinets, and additional tchotchkes that not only were cluttering my overcrowded physical space, but, more important, my mind, man!

Chipping away at the inside of my microwave the other day, I came to another reefer-induced realization: What do I really know about this strange food-warming machine? What is a “micro-wave,” and what are the effects of molecules being radiated in this way? And why did I choose a toothbrush to clean the grit and grime when a chisel or power-washer would have been far more apt? I pulled my head out of the nuclear device, unplugged the thing, and put it on top of the ever-growing Goodwill pile, then began scrubbing the empty space on the counter.

“When it comes to clean, there’s only one Mr.”: Mr. Chronic.

Holy smokes—I think I missed a spot!

The Grateful Dead celebrate five decades with five shows.

In this era of fly-by-night fame, one-hit wonders, and lame-ass reality “stars,” any group of artists who can create a true following over half a century needs to be recognized and respected. The Grateful Dead, the legendary improvisational stoner band, is celebrating its 50th anniversary with a five-show “Fare Thee Well” tour, which started June 27 in Santa Clara, Calif., and will wrap up July 5 at Soldier’s Field, Chicago. The long-sold-out shows (which will be streamed on YouTube) offer a chance to reflect on what makes this band so unique and beloved.

The original Grateful Dead consisted of lead singer and guitarist Jerry Garcia, rhythm guitarist Bob Weir, bass player Phil Lesh, drummer Bill Kreutzmann, and Ron “Pigpen” McKernan, a bluesy genius who played organ and harmonica. The group started under the name Warlocks in 1965, playing house parties during author Ken Kesey’s “acid tests.” (Drummer Mickey Hart and lyricist Robert Hunter were added in 1967, and Pigpen passed in 1973 when his liver gave out.)

Though I’m no Deadhead, I loved Garcia’s soulful, often mournful voice and damn fine picking (including his pedal-steel work on Crosby, Stills, and Nash’s “Teach Your Children”); so when Jerry passed in 1995 at age 53 from a heart attack (pretty good for a chain-smoking, fast-food-chowing heroin addict) I stopped paying attention. Not that the band needed me—hardcore fans have continued to follow the “Core Four” (aka the Walking Dead or Almost Dead): Weir, 67; Lesh, 75; and drummers Kreutzmann, 69, and Hart, 71. Joining them on the last hurrah will be singer/piano man Bruce Hornsby and Phish singer and kick-ass guitarist Trey Anastasio.

As has been well recorded, the Grateful Dead were most likely the original “jam band.” Never playing a tune the same way twice, the Dead performed songs that often went on for 30 minutes or more, filled with blues and hillbilly licks as well as spacey jazz and rock ’n’ roll. Though that formula may not fit the Top 40 format (the band’s only Top 10 hit was 1987’s “Touch of Grey”), the free-form nature of the sets dove-tailed nicely with the drug trips most listeners were taking. My favorite show was opened by Carlos Santana, and then turned into a strange journey of blurring colors and what I thought were flying sheep in the Tacoma Dome parking lot. (It should be noted that a sober group of Deadheads, the Wharf Rats, has been following the band for decades.)

Anyone old enough to be tripping and traveling the country in the ’60s has to be at least 60 by now, which makes Deadheads both a wonderful and dying breed. But behind the tie-dye and LSD and bootleg tapes comes a dedicated (deadicated?) vibe that’s still the backbone of the counterculture. Peace, love, and understanding are great notions for any generation. Tell me we couldn’t use a little more peace in the Middle East, love among our races, and understanding in our individual lives, no matter the situation.

And if ya think hippies are lazy stoners, take a hard look at the band members. They’ve toured pretty much nonstop in various forms since 1967 (including incarnations as the Other Ones, Further, RatDog, and the Dead), selling more than 35 million albums. Officially, the Guinness Book of World Records has the band etched in stone, with 2,318 live concerts (thus far) in front of a collective audience of more than 25 million, the most in history.

And if ya think hippies are a bunch of commie-pinkos, take another look. While they had wonderful progressive values (the loyal road crew were given both benefits and insurance), the gents were money-making ganjapreneurs long before the latest Green Rush. Led by Hal Kant, an entertainment lawyer who’s made Harvey Weinstein look demure, the Dead scored merchandising deals galore (have you tried the Steal Your Face wine?), and was one of the first acts to retain the ownership of its songs and all-important master tapes. The combo also didn’t put up with TicketBastards, forming their own ticketing company and raking in more than $300 million. The band was always socialistic when it came to bootlegs, allowing fans to record and trade at will . . . so long as they weren’t sold.

Of course it wasn’t just the band that made money—an entire village of traveling artists and vendors (and dope-dealers and massage therapists) followed the group from town to town for decades on end. I’ve got the Tibetan prayer flags flying off my deck to prove it. For a band that spent so much time rocking in a bygone era, their music has been carefully preserved and modernized, going from tapes and reel-to-reel systems to a digital library called The Internet Archive (archive.org), which contains 8,976 recordings of the Grateful Dead. If you’ve never really heard the band, do yourself a favor and scroll to, say, 1973 and click on one of the concert links. You may find yourself on a long strange trip, indeed.

News that’s stranger than fiction.

“When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.” That’s a Hunter S. Thompson quote, and absolutely applies to the latest news related to marijuana and its legalization. Much of it is so weird, in fact, ya just can’t make this shit up.

BIGFOOT HUNTERS FIND WEED
A group of Bigfoot hunters (seriously) were in search of their nonexistent furry friend in a Wildlife Management Area in Texas last month when they came across a giant crop of weeds in the woods. The hidden garden, northeast of Dallas, had almost 6,500 mature plants, worth around $6.5 million, on an acre of land. Turns out the Delta County Sheriff’s department had been scoping the ganja farm to bust the guerrilla growers, but when the Bigfoot team accidentally stumbled onto the scene, they ruined the police operation-in-progress. (Probably the same reason these buffoons haven’t nabbed Yeti yet.) Had the coppers been able to bust the black-market growers—who had set up generators, camouflaging tents, and watering systems—they would have faced felony charges with fines of up to $50,000 and 99 years in the slammer. Who knew Bigfoot has such a big green thumb!

It is possible, of course, that Bigfoot himself (herself?) was the giant sharecropper; after all, if the legend is true, there’s no creature on Earth quite so stealthy. Now that I think of it, someone should come up with Bigfoot Bud (Gigantopithecus OG ?): The stuff’s so powerful, it will make you disappear . . .

GAS AND GRASS
Hell, if Costco and Safeway can pair shopping with gas stations, why not a weed shop? This month a Colorado chain of pot stores, Native Roots, is trying out a new business model, opening a dispensary next to a gas station. The two are side by side with a separate entrance for the dispensary, which must follow all the rules and restrictions for cannabis businesses (21 and over, etc.). “It’s really just kind of pairing the convenience in one specific stop,” noted company spokesperson Tia Mattson.

Gas & Grass hopes eventually to have several locations, with a uniform look and common merchandise—kind of like a Quik Mart, but instead of 5-year-old hot dogs, hunting caps, and fingerless gloves, it will be stocked with prime dank. Of course, given the onset of the munchies, Gas & Grass outlets will be fully stocked with stoned supplies such as Doritos, lighters, Gatorade, BlowPops, and donuts galore. “I believe we’ll have lottery tickets, beverages, cigarettes, and similar things that you would pick up in a convenience store,” Mattson said. One thing that will not be allowed: gassing up while firing up. (Ka-boom!)

DO THE POT-ALLUP
Last month the District of Columbia State Fair hosted the country’s first official Cannabis Competition at a fairgrounds. Showcased alongside blue-ribbon home brews, knitted sweaters, and longest vegetables was priceless pot! The display was sponsored by a group called Let’sGrowDC, which runs a retail garden-supply store and educational center for urban gardens.

The Best Bud contest was taken quite seriously by the panel of judges, who rated the pot on the growing process, aroma, snap of the stem, stickiness (I’m not kidding), and appearance. If you’re wondering why it wasn’t judged on potency, that may have had to do with the setting (family-friendly with kids and all) and the fact that 64 different strains were submitted. The winner? “Capital Chronic OG” from green thumb Kenneth Gore, who took home a blue ribbon (shoulda been green) and a $50 certificate to Mellow Mushroom pizza parlor.

The real reason it was so important for the DC State Fair to encourage cannabis agriculture had less to do with boasting rights for the prizewinners and more to do with logistics. Though marijuana was legalized in D.C. in February (with over 70 percent support), no recreational stores or sales of any kind are allowed; residents are allowed, however, to grow their own or “gift” weed to one another. And because it’s illegal to transport cannabis across state lines, any and all marijuana consumed in D.C. must be grown there. Any tips from green-ribbon ganja farmers, therefore, were greatly appreciated by the greensmen in attendance. Given the number of entrants, a gardening boom for bud has clearly taken place in our nation’s capital. After the fair, Let’sGrowDC gave out more than 30 clippings that attendees could use to grow prizewinning plants of their own. Now that’s what I call a shared economy!

MARIJUANA ARRESTS UP NATIONALLY
Finally, in the craziest news item of all, new stats on marijuana arrests in 2014 were released last week by the FBI. Given the ever-growing support for legalization not only in the four legal states but across the land, you’d expect a huge reduction in pot arrests nationwide, right? Sadly, in 2014, more than 640,000 Americans were arrested for cannabis-related offenses. That breaks down to 1,700 people per day, meaning that someone in the U.S. is arrested for marijuana use or possession every 42 seconds.

Thankfully, here in Washington, arrests have dropped dramatically—which is fab until you look at nationwide numbers and see that, as a percentage of total arrests, the number of marijuana busts is going up, not down; more than one in 20 arrests overall are for the possession of ganja—a stat putting it near the all-time high. It would be one thing if cops had nothing better to do, but as thousands of officers take themselves off the streets each day to detain and book men and women for pot possession, serious crimes are back-burnered. According to the FBI’s own stats, over half the country’s violent crimes in 2014—such as murder, assault, and rape—are not being solved. So, big picture: As far as legalization goes, we’ve got a long, long way to go.