For more than a decade, “Adventures with Santa” has appeared in magazines around the world: a fictional series blending holiday magic with cannabis culture, compassion, and plant wisdom. Each year, Santa drops in on real figures from the cannabis community for a little medicine, a little conversation, and a reminder of why this plant matters. This season, he pays a visit to High Times Publisher Josh Kesselman.
Santa and his faithful crew headed west from Albuquerque, skimming the high desert under a cold, starlit sky, crossing into Arizona and toward the rugged foothills outside Phoenix, the ranch home of Josh Kesselman.
“Let’s go, Rudolph! Now! Dasher, Dancer and Prancer! On Vixen, Comet and Cupid! Dash away, Donner and Blixen and all! Over the hills to Josh’s ranch we go!” Santa chuckled to himself as he paraphrased the prose that made them famous.
It was a crisp Christmas Eve over the Arizona desert, where nighttime temperatures can dip sharply once the sun goes down. A cool winter hush settled over the foothills north of Phoenix as Santa descended toward the ranch.
“To a place where kindness for creatures is strong, we go!” Santa called out, patting Rudolph’s neck.
Not a Saint, but a doer of good deeds nonetheless, Kesselman, often called the “Willy Wonka of Weed,” had been in the cannabis industry since the early ’90s, opening smoke shop Knuckleheads in Gainesville, Florida. Raided in 1996, the ordeal made Josh part of an elite club within the cannabis community.
The only thing in the shop the feds didn’t take were the rolling papers. And in 2005, when the smoke finally cleared from the traumatic event, he would launch the now-iconic, clean vegan rolling paper brand, RAW.
Santa hovered over the ranch, touching down in a clearing near the barn. With his trusty crew settling in, he got out of the sled and stretched, rubbing his lower back. Reaching into the little pocket Mrs. Claus had sewn into his coat, he pulled out a small bottle of tincture she had prepared, putting some drops on his tongue for relief.
Kesselman was woken by the faint sound of bells jingling, and such a clatter that he got up to see what was the matter.
“Holy smoke, Batman!” he exclaimed. But this was no Boy Wonder glowing under the moonlight. “Santa,” he whispered to himself, making his way down to his night visitors.
Santa gave a friendly wave to the wide-eyed man before him.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” Santa said with good cheer. “Hope we didn’t disturb. It’s just that Rudolph and crew wanted to meet Elvis and Jagger!”
Kesselman was no stranger to magic and welcomed this apparition before him that he hoped was real.
“I’ve seen that look before,” Santa offered. “Not to worry — we are harmless.”
Kesselman led the entourage to the barn to meet his own steed, Jagger, and donkey, Elvis. As the reindeer mingled, Santa said, with a twinkle in his eye, “I sure wouldn’t mind a little puff, puff and pass, my friend. The night is long, and even though I just took a drop of my wife’s tincture, I wouldn’t mind a top-off for a little entourage effect.”
The two took seats on matching bales of hay, with Kesselman in his element, placing a tray between them with his infamous RAW papers center stage.
“Do you know how to roll one?” Kesselman asked with his own twinkle in his eyes.
“Why, no, I do not,” Santa replied — causing Kesselman to smile broadly with happiness.
“Well, you came to the right place! Advocating for this plant is one thing, but teaching is my passion,” Kesselman said, placing a glass jar of flower and a grinder on the tray, proceeding with the demonstration. “Use your thumb to push it down, and then gently roll it over, roll it over, tip it, push it down gently, gently, gently, and then roll.”
Santa was a quick study, and soon they were each holding perfectly rolled joints.
“To quote Wiz Khalifa,” Santa sang, “Take that OG Kush, put it in a RAW… we are living RAW!” he chuckled, much to Kesselman’s delight.
The two sat and passed one between them, with Santa exhaling the stress of the night away as the pain in his back lessened.
“I read somewhere that the elves grow this medicine up at the North Pole. Is that true?” Kesselman inquired.
“Yes, they tinker a bit,” Santa smiled broadly. “I hear you like to tinker as well, my friend. You would like to visit us one day. The missus makes tincture, salves — all kinds of remedies — but she’s best known for her Ganja Fruit Cake.”
Santa pulled a small muffin from his magical coat and handed it over. “That should make a nice Christmas morning treat. It’s vegan, like your papers — so blessings on the animals.”
“This ranch is a rescue,” Kesselman said proudly. “We’ve rescued ten dogs over the years. And in that stable, there is a horse that’s blind — but sees more than most.”
“You really are a vision,” Santa continued. “Like your work, and like the practice of Livity — living in gratitude for everything good, including the animals. We give thanks to all creatures great and small, for they are our brothers and sisters of different mothers.”
The smell of the flower burning, the hay they sat upon, and the cool desert air made for a magical night, indeed, as the two sat in contemplation, in gratitude for everything good around them.
“I’d like to leave you with a prayer for the animals, my friend,” Santa said, as he took Kesselman’s hand and bowed his head.
“Blessed are you, Lord God, maker of all living creatures.
You called forth fish in the sea, birds in the air and animals on the land.
You inspired Saint Francis to call all of them his brothers and sisters.
We ask you to bless these animals.”
Santa led his motley crew out of the barn toward the sled.
As they lifted up into the desert night sky, Santa also felt lifted as they sailed high above the ranch.
“And blessings to you and the reindeer on your continued journey around the globe, Santa,” Kesselman said, cheering them on. “This is a night I’ll never forget,” he said aloud to himself, taking one more drag off his perfectly rolled joint as he made his way back into the house and into dreamland — confident the magic would last beyond this moment. After all, he had Santa on his side, and there’s nothing more magical than that.
