Do you like Humboldt stories?  Stories like those told by our local grocery store clerks.

A guy bought a case of oven bags (contain odor and thus used for storing/transporting pounds of pot)  and gave the clerk a $200 tip to put the Reynolds box inside a tissue container to hide his purchase.

Then you need to be following Mikal Jakubal’s One Good Year. He is making a documentary which, in his words…

… will follow the stories of several individual “mom-and-pop” scale weed growers—all of whom have legitimate doctor’s recommendations for medical marijuana—over the course of a year in SoHum. Along the way, we’ll meet many of the local characters, get embroiled in the endless controversies, be awed by the spectacularly beautiful landscape, laugh at the comedy and cry at the tragedy that exist side by side in a place that could be an exotic culture and anyone’s home town all at once.

Humboldt County has been the subject of untold magazine articles, radio and TV news shows and films, most of which barely scratch the surface or do little more than perpetuate the worst of the hype and sensationalism. The hype is boring compared to the real story. Having lived here for over 15 years, I’ll bring an in-depth perspective and a local’s sensitivity and authenticity to the story. With legalization on the horizon and ever-increasing media attention focused on SoHum, it is more important than ever that this community tells its own story.

Mikal has used several of my stories on his blog.  One is the true tale of a local who staged a daring escape when the grow he was working on got busted. Here is an excerpt.

I was sleeping in—completely tacoed [hungover]. I heard a car door slam…I looked out the upstairs window. OH, SHIT! I saw a sheriff with a shotgun…

Wearing only his boxer shorts, he crawled out through the open glass and

…cue James Bond music. I ran and grabbed the upstairs porch rail with both hands and vaulted over and down 15 feet…I landed on a rock face…I tore the bottom of my feet off but I didn’t feel it….Adrenaline pumped, I tripped over a rocky ledge and face planted–shattered my nose. Totally barefoot and [almost] naked…The choppers were flying…I ran through a ravine.

Blackberry bush [He waved a hand wildly]–I ran right through it— I was going to Mom’s.

While running, he realized that he didn’t want to lead the police to his family’s house.

… [I] hid myself in a pond.…[I] crawled out of the pond and into [a] bush. From 7 in the morning ‘til 8 at night I hid….I was hung over–hammered. And the yellow jackets kept eating my feet.

Another is my story of the human interaction between hillfolk and officers—a piece entitled Fragile Things.

I’ve been enthralled by the blog for awhile.  Humboldt telling Humboldt, my favorite kinds of stories.