IMO No.6: Edibles Are a Game Changer—But They’re Not the Whole Game
⚠️ CYA Disclaimer: The following article may contain opinions. Shocking, I know. I'm not a doctor, a scientist, or your lawyer—just a reasonably smart person who’s had a few experiences, done some reading, and likes to share thoughts in long-form. Don’t sue me, sue your dealer. Kidding! (Mostly.) Proceed with adult-level discernment and snacks nearby.
Let’s just start here: edibles changed the cannabis game. No question. They took a smoky, often stigmatized ritual and made it… digestible. Literally and figuratively. Suddenly your aunt, your accountant, your favorite kindergarten teacher from third grade—all could dip a toe into the cannabis pool without lighting up a joint and accidentally recreating a Snoop Dogg music video.
And that’s a beautiful thing.
The revolution was baked in.
Gummies, cookies, chocolates, even five-star fine dining experiences—all promised to get you where you wanted to go without making your house smell like a dorm room or forcing you to carry around a lighter like it’s 1998.
And let’s be honest: for a lot of people, flower just isn’t practical. They don’t want to smoke. They don’t want to learn how to smoke. They don’t want to cough like they’ve just swallowed a jalapeño sideways. They want control, discretion, and something that can sit in their purse without making their lip balm taste like diesel fuel. Edibles provide that. And that’s why they’ve opened the door to a whole new audience.
But here’s the thing: edibles are just one instrument in the symphony.
A good one, sure. A sexy one. Probably a saxophone. But still, not the whole orchestra.
The Edible Equation
Edibles, for all their glossy packaging and Willy Wonka appeal, operate very differently than other forms of cannabis. For starters, they take their sweet time. You might feel the effects in 30 minutes—or it might take two hours. And that window of mystery often leads to the classic edible spiral:
“Hmm. I don’t feel anything. Should I take another one? Just one more? Maybe two? Oh no. Oh no no no. I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
That learning curve is real. And unlike a joint, where the effects arrive quickly and generally go away in an hour or so, edibles come in hot and linger like an awkward guest who missed the social cue.
Which brings me to this important point: when you don’t know how to dose, you don’t know how to balance.
Edibles are often marketed with milligrams and math that makes them feel clinical—like taking Tylenol or measuring your protein intake. But the human experience of cannabis isn’t math. It’s mood. Context. Body chemistry. What you ate that day. How hydrated you are. Whether Mercury’s in retrograde. You get the idea.
And that’s part of why the ritual of flower still matters.
Ritual Is the Root
There’s something grounding about flower. Intentional. Even sacred. The process—grinding, packing, rolling, lighting—is not unlike brewing a good cup of coffee or decanting a glass of wine. It’s tactile. Communal. Meditative, even.
You don’t just get high. You arrive. Slowly. Mindfully.
And in a world moving at breakneck speed where our phones have become anxiety machines, flower demands presence. It slows you down. Forces you to check in with your body, your surroundings, and—if you’re sharing—with the people in the room.
That’s why flower is still the backbone of many Dex Parties. Not just because it looks gorgeous when styled well (though, yes, a frosted nug next to a crystal ashtray is a vibe), but because it invites conversation. It’s less take and go, more stay and settle in.
And isn’t that the point?
The Vape Trap
Now, we have to talk about vaping. And listen—I get it. Vapes are portable. They’re discreet. They don’t make your jacket smell like a reggae festival. But vapes are also the drive-thru window of cannabis.
Quick. Convenient. But dangerously easy to overdo.
Because with a vape, there’s no ritual. No prep. No pause. Just a button, a puff, and a fast ride to possibly-too-much-town. Especially with today’s concentrate-heavy cartridges that can pack a punch like Tyson in his prime.
And while there’s a time and place for that (airports, in-laws, anywhere you might need a panic button), vapes can turn cannabis from an experience into a reflex. A habit. Something you do mindlessly. And when that happens, you miss out on the deeper value cannabis can offer: connection, introspection, empathy, presence.
Too much of a good thing is still too much.
Balance Is the Goal, Not the Buzz
Here’s where I land on all this: cannabis, like wine, like food, like nearly everything pleasurable, is best when it’s balanced.
Edibles let us enter gently. Flower keeps us rooted in ritual. Vapes offer a last-minute escape route. Each has a role. But none should run the whole show.
Especially when we’re talking about cannabis as a tool for better living—not just a way to check out, but a way to tune in. That’s the Dexter philosophy, and it’s why we treat edibles as one part of a bigger experience, not the entire thing.
We love a beautiful infused truffle as much as anyone (especially if there’s sea salt involved), but we’re also setting the table with a little flower, a lot of water, good lighting, and a playlist that knows how to read the room. Think mellow soul, low-key funk, maybe a little Anderson .Paak or Khruangbin to keep things groovy without hijacking the conversation. Because intention matters.
So if you’re new to cannabis and you started with edibles—fantastic. You’re here. That’s what matters. But if you’ve only experienced cannabis through a single format, you might be missing out on the magic that lives in the nuance. In the contrast. In the choosing.
Cannabis isn’t just a substance—it’s a medium.
And like any good medium, it can be used badly or beautifully. It can be overdone or perfectly placed. It can be a bludgeon or a brushstroke.
Let’s aim for brushstrokes.
Final Thought
So, yes. Edibles are a game changer. But they’re not the whole game. They’re not even the final boss. They’re just a damn good piece of the puzzle.
If you’re looking to build a better relationship with cannabis—or help someone else start one—mix it up. Slow it down. Pay attention. And maybe put the vape pen down now and then.
Your nervous system (and probably your houseplants) will thank you.
Coming Up Next…
IMO No.7 – Small Talk Is a Crime of Opportunity
Can we all agree that small talk is exhausting, especially when cannabis makes you want to talk about life, love, or the shape of your dog’s soul? Next week, we explore how cannabis can elevate our conversations and why intentional gatherings are the antidote to social surface-level nonsense.
