My dad was a conscientious objector during the Vietnam War, way back in the day.
He was faced with jail time, so he did what a lot of people did in that era – he fled to Canada, and he took his pot growing operation with him.
To this day there is a thriving pot market in Canada, because of all the hippies that went north during the conscription draft. I can’t complain about it, and honestly I take pride in what he did. Thanks to the hospitality of Canada, my Dad didn’t die in Vietnam, and had a rich, full life. There is even a famous strain of cannabis that still carries his name, because he was the first to cultivate it and give it to the world. That’s a namesake to be proud of! I still love going into a cannabis dispensary and asking for a few grams of the pot named after my dad. It never gets old, no matter how many times I do it. Alas, although my name is famous, those fabled skills for cultivating cannabis were not genetically transferred, which means I suck at growing pot myself. My dad never got rich from cannabis, but he never wanted to, so I don’t have an inheritance of money, nor of information. His secrets for cannabis went to the grave with him, and all I have is my semi-famous name. Sometimes I will get some questions when I visit a cannabis dispensary, because people are curious about my dad, so at least I’m locally famous, which is better than nothing.