A Shed Too Far: How One Michigan Town Got High on Healing (and Power Tools)
Brought to you by Gummy. Built for the believers. Sparked by cannabis. Finished with duct tape.
Saturday morning.
Downtown Petoskey, Michigan.
Picture it: a Build-Your-Own-Shed community challenge in the parking lot of the local Do-It Center. There’s free donuts, bad coffee, and tension so thick you could chainsaw it into lumber.
The dads? Already beefing.
One’s yelling about a Ryobi drill that’s gone “mysteriously missing.”
Another guy, Rick, naturally is attempting to construct a full shed using only zip ties and unresolved childhood trauma.
Over by the paint samples, a woman named Cheryl is openly weeping into her Target Stanley tumbler because her husband forgot the screws. Again.
This town? Usually chill.
But today, it’s one PVC pipe away from a full-blown hardware store civil war.
Enter Gummy (Demarco).
Wearing jorts. Sleeveless flannel. Toolbelt full of Slim Jims, gumdrops, and just enough Dope Rope edibles to “legally” call it a “wellness kit.”
He steps onto a folding table like it’s a TED Talk stage and yells:
“THIS IS NOT HOW WE SHED TOGETHER, PETOSKEY!”
He hits play on his weathered Bluetooth speaker. Luke Combs’ “Beer Never Broke My Heart” blasts through the parking lot like a warm musical bong rip.
Time slows. Saws stop spinning.
Then . . . it happens.
The guy who was ready to throw hands over a power drill starts clapping to the beat of Luke Combs. He’s a master of getting people to clap to a beat.
Rick zip-ties his way into a group hug.
Someone fires up a grill they didn’t bring or pay for.
Cheryl, mid-meltdown, starts line dancing with a weed-infused lemonade in hand. Not sure where she got. She looks free. Sexy, AF.
Gummy paces the lot, passing out duct tape and perspective.
“Let’s build something solid,” Gummy says. “Not just for our tools. But for our hearts. Also, this grill needs seasoning, who’s got brats?”
By the end of the day:
The sheds? Slightly crooked.
The emotions? Perfectly aligned.
The air? Smells like sawdust, smoked meats, and a faint kiss of grapefruit terpenes mixed with hazelnut dragon fruit.
Rick admits the sheds are a metaphor.
Someone cries into a bag of pork rinds.
Two dads reconcile over a watermelon DOPE ROPE gummy and a lukewarm seltzer that was already opened.
And just like that, the town’s vibe goes from chaos to calm.
Not because of screws.
Not because of sheds.
But because someone brought the right energy.
The moral of this story?
Sometimes the best tool in your belt…
is a gummy.
Cannabis doesn’t just mellow the mind. It builds bridges, lowers voices, softens grudges, and makes you realize maybe that shed doesn’t need four walls—it just needs four friends and one Bluetooth speaker playing some Mr. Combs.
So next time life’s falling apart like a $99 shed kit—
Pop a gummy. Play some Luke. Hug your Rick.
And visit YourDetour.com.
Because the high road?
Starts in Petoskey. Ends in perspective.
