When I was a wee lad, my family moved into a small house in the northern area of New Jersey. Given what I had heard about the area, I fully expected to be surrounded by unpleasant people. On our second night there, the neighbors all came by with food or some other gift to welcome us to the neighborhood. Now I picture a world where neighbors come over to greet you with a jar of their finest buds instead. The stoner welcome wagon, if you will..