07-17-2005, 12:00 AM
Growing marijana is illegal in Canada. If it wasnt, I guess wed all be growing our own. When I first met my wife-to-be she was a pot-head. And indeed, had that not been the case, Im fairly certain wed never have met. She was in some of my younger sisters classes at school. Id already dropped out and was growing pot in the closet in my bedroom, although I wasnt growing any buds at all, for I knew nothing about how to induce flowering in a marijuana plant at that time, and was tinkering with a friend with the creation of a hydroponic system. He was a strange fellow. I met him, same as I met my wife-to-be because I was a marijuana dealer. Not a big-time one, just a petty little dealer, buying a pound of Mexican buds all compressed into a brick and then selling it to friends, mostly, so I might wind up with an ounce or two for free, which of course Id smoke myself, partying in my bedroom at my parents house with a few other kids.
I met Ralph because I was selling marijuana. He was younger than me, but had also dropped out of school at fifteen. He told me hed been the subject of some extensive LSD testing which his father was involved in. I believed him. I met his father. Yes, they were most unusual people, and it was a most unusual time, really, but of course at the time I didnt think anything of it.
Ralph had bought a few ounces of pot from me over a period of months. He was an avid pot-head, and consumed several joints at a sitting. And hed get quite out of it and drool and mumble, and come up with off-the-wall things out of the blue. He liked coming over to my place, and sitting in my bedroom on an Autumn evening, and join in the conversations and the general partying going on in that tiny little room. The year was 1977, and time seemed to be accelerating, a monumental page was turning, and we were turning it together, and we could all feel it and marvel about it together. I was eighteen, and Ralph was fifteen. And he wanted to grow marijuana and I said, Well whats stopping you, why dont you?
The following week Ralph rang our doorbell while we were all still eating dinner. My mother went to answer the door.
Hi Mrs. Harris, Im Ralph! Im friends with Peter, and he and I are going to grow marijuana!
And he actually extended his hand.
Oh! my mother exclaimed. Were having dinner right nowRalph
But Ralph was not one to be put off. Oh, thats fine, Mrs. Harris. Ive got some equipment here, Ill just take it up to Peters room while you all finish your dinner.
How brash, how delightful!
My mother returned to the table with a kind of Sitting Bull look of resignation on her face While Ralph carried all the equipment up to my room. He must have had a ride from his father There was far too much for him to carry on the bus.
I met Ralph because I was selling marijuana. He was younger than me, but had also dropped out of school at fifteen. He told me hed been the subject of some extensive LSD testing which his father was involved in. I believed him. I met his father. Yes, they were most unusual people, and it was a most unusual time, really, but of course at the time I didnt think anything of it.
Ralph had bought a few ounces of pot from me over a period of months. He was an avid pot-head, and consumed several joints at a sitting. And hed get quite out of it and drool and mumble, and come up with off-the-wall things out of the blue. He liked coming over to my place, and sitting in my bedroom on an Autumn evening, and join in the conversations and the general partying going on in that tiny little room. The year was 1977, and time seemed to be accelerating, a monumental page was turning, and we were turning it together, and we could all feel it and marvel about it together. I was eighteen, and Ralph was fifteen. And he wanted to grow marijuana and I said, Well whats stopping you, why dont you?
The following week Ralph rang our doorbell while we were all still eating dinner. My mother went to answer the door.
Hi Mrs. Harris, Im Ralph! Im friends with Peter, and he and I are going to grow marijuana!
And he actually extended his hand.
Oh! my mother exclaimed. Were having dinner right nowRalph
But Ralph was not one to be put off. Oh, thats fine, Mrs. Harris. Ive got some equipment here, Ill just take it up to Peters room while you all finish your dinner.
How brash, how delightful!
My mother returned to the table with a kind of Sitting Bull look of resignation on her face While Ralph carried all the equipment up to my room. He must have had a ride from his father There was far too much for him to carry on the bus.