I attended Cannagather with much trepidation. Held at Jersey City’s Zeppelin Hall—site of numerous fundraisers for Steve Fulop, in the midst of one of JC’s fanciest neighborhoods (the Pyongyang of Jersey City, if you will)—I expected the event to be packed full of venture capital-types half my age whom I would reflexively hate. The VC guys were there, but the crowd was much different than I expected.
The overwhelming feel of the crowd—I’d say about 60% in attendance—fell into a category I’d describe as South Jersey Suburban Dad: white guys, middle-aged, with mustaches and button-down shirts, trying desperately to keep their eyes open as the event wore on past 9:00 p.m. Just very normal guys with kids to put through college and property taxes to pay; sweet, hard-working office workers with a lot of responsibilities and a job to do. They were primarily involved in the galaxy of businesses that will support cannabis selling—payroll, legal, staffing, and so forth. I never even thought of these as being important to the industry, but of course they are.
About 30% were the entrepreneurs—people who are looking at getting into selling cannabis or already sell CBD products[1]. This was a very diverse group, although tilted slightly towards people in their twenties. They were chicly dressed, excited, and bubbly, and a few looked overwhelmed at how huge the event—which attracted a few hundred people—was. They passed around business cards and pamphlets designed on Microsoft Word and printed from home computers for vaguely described companies promising health and wellness and, in many cases, indeterminate products.
The remaining attendees were those VC types—slick, fit-looking bros aggressively working the room, looking for businesses to finance. I listened in to a conversation between one of the entrepreneurs, a lanky young black man who couldn’t have been over twenty, and one of the VC guys. The entrepreneur described what his business idea was (I missed this part) as the VC guy listened and nodded sternly. “OK OK OK. I hear what you’re saying. So to build that business, you’ll need at least a million dollars to start. I can get you that.” The young guy’s eyes widened and I had to fight the maternal urge to interrupt and tell him to run or at least really think this over before jumping in.