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And there’s one last tiny hitch in the homegrown giddyap — and one that’s of particular importance in a city like L.A. where most of us live cheek by jowl: any plants you’re growing must be in a locked space that is not visible to the public.

So giddyap, “Black Ops Cold War” goes, leading us is into conspiracy-fueled territory that takes inspiration from real life, then spins internet message group-worthy tall tales out of it.

I tell it, “Come on, come on! Giddyap!”

Also, if you’re sleepy, which I was, the Coca-Cola lends a little giddyap to go with the rum-whoa.

From the first giddyap! we were at full gallop.