10 Observations From Hempfest

In case you missed Hempfest this weekend (Sept. 13 and 14), here are some of the highlights from the 20 minutes we spent observing. If you like what you read (what?), don’t worry, it’ll happen again next year. Maybe by then it’ll all be less questionably legal.

The Booths
1. Two for $10. Four for $20. Weed lollipops. There’s two things to note here: First, never again trust an adult eating a green lollipop. Second, there’s no discount for buying in bulk, even if they're making it sound like there might be.

2. There’s a wrinkled man, wearing a sandwich board, and he’s here to save all of the souls. Unlike the science center flyer-ers, he only gives flyers to those who ask. “Does anyone love you?,” his flyer poses. Answer, page 1: “He loved you!”

3. “ENROLLING NOW!!!” There’s a school, Northeastern Institute of Cannabis, that can get you certified to work in the industry in “just TWO WEEKS.” Sounds about as long as econ. concentrators spend on their theses.

4. X Growth Systems sells plants. Girls with flowers in their hair, baggy pants, and lollipops in their mouths are the type who are interested in this.

The Stage
5. A rock band sings to the comically small crowd, “One stop to Jamaica, one stop to Jamaica.” When they finish playing, they yell, “Make some noise Boston!” Boston makes no noise.

6. Three kids sit eating ice cream with their mom 20 feet from the stage. No lollipops for them.

The Lawn
7. Gregory H. Daugherty, the Spare Change salesman from the Square, tries to convince a man wearing a shirt that says boobies in four different languages to buy his paper. Well hellllllllllllo there, gentleman.

8. A group of friends eat chili fries out of a dog bowl.

9. Face-painted, a guitarist moves from cop to cop, playing music inches away from their faces as his friend films. “I thought we were best friends,” one officer says drily after he’s been abandoned.

Back to the T
10. One unnamed revolutionary tour guide in full dress walks through Hempfest between tours. “My pot smoking days are over,” he says, his face and tri-corner cap turning toward us. “I get paranoid.”