The pungent wafting odour was unmistakable. Whether you follow the Americans and spell it with a "J" or correctly using a "H"; whether you like to appear hip and therefore call it herb, kush, tree, or Miley Cyrus; or whether you knew it intimately way back, when it was so much less potent and to have a "nickle" meant it was five bucks worth that fit into a match box; cannabis marihuana will always smell like cannabis marihuana.
As a young narcotics officer one of the first lessons taught to me by my grizzled colleges was the correct reply when asked what marihuana smells like? It's not kind of like pipe tobacco, cigars, nor dirty wet socks. Wouldn't defence attorneys have a field day with a rookie Constable Nixon with those responses! The correct answer, and the only correct answer, is that cannabis marihuana smells exactly like cannabis marihuana.
If you've lived in our western society, ever ventured out in public, and breathe to survive then I have no doubt that you are, at the very least, an experienced secondhand smoker of marihuana. You don't need to be a trained police officer to recognize when "Miley Cyrus" is in the hood. Life experience is the best teacher. Heck, I have never ever even experimented with any form of cannabis but it seemed to be everywhere once I became a teenager and got out in the world. Yes.....you read that correctly....not even a puff, draw, toke, or pull. Lots of secondhand experience but no firsthand. Would I lie to you?
So, yesterday, I'm out in the woods...I smell marihuana being smoked. In the distance, through the trees, I see my soon-to-be 16 year old daughter, Kendall, and two of her friends huddling together. We are at the beautiful and surreal waterfalls in La Manche Park. It is one of Kendall's favourite places to swim as the water is deep and clear, plus their are high ledges from which to jump. It has been an annual excursion for my two kids and me for several years. The falls have always proven to be popular with the teenage and young adult crowd, most of whom just happen to find it a great opportunity to light up a joint or two, or ten of marihuana.
When my kids (Avery is 2 years younger than Kendall) and their friends were younger, I would get a great kick from their reactions to smelling the burning intoxicant as it funneled down the canyon walls to find their innocence wading in the whirling waters. Most would submerge to escape the "stink" but a well rolled joint can be held longer than the breath of a 10 year old. As knowledge is true power and the truth sets you free, I made sure my kids and friends knew exactly what they had experienced.
I don't recall there ever being an occasion that marihuana smoking wasn't taking place during our visits to the falls. Well, perhaps not on that ocassion when our annual trek didn't take place until mid September. I tried to talk Kendall out of going but she wouldn't be dissuaded. I think she is addicted to the place. As I suspected, the water was much too cold for a forty-something but not for the younger generation. I understand that with aging comes shrinkage and frailness but jumping into frigid water is no way to prove my manhood (nor to improve on it).
I smell weed. Kendall and her friends are huddled together and I see that something is being passed between them. Oh oh, a possible pivotal parenting moment! What to do? They haven't seen me so maybe I should just keep walking and pretend it never happened. Nah, that ain't me. Maybe I should burst out of the trees, yelling at how disappointed I am and maybe scare them back to the straight and narrow. Nah, despite being a cop, I was never the heavy handed sort. I decided that I would just watch for a bit and maybe the best way to handle this would eventually come to me. So, this is what being a dad had come to. I was resorting to voyeurism while I grappled with the idea that my little girl was diving headlong into the world of illicit narcotics.
I circled around to the top of the falls. Trying to play it cool and look like any normal fifty-something year old man who is alone in the woods and just happens to be watching bikini clad teenage girls. Creepy. Thankfully, Kendall and friends showed their hands before I had to do a citizen's arrest on myself. Miley Cyrus wasn't there after all. There was no bud, Keyshia, chronic, nor was there sticky icky or Cheech and Chong. The three amigos were passing around an iPhone 6s and selfies were the order of the day. They saw me on top of the falls and waved excitedly. Over the roar of the cascading water Kendall was asking me to take a picture of them from my vantage point. I signaled with my hands that I didn't have my phone. She shrugged and dove headlong into the water, continuing her love affair with one of her favourite spots on earth.
At that moment I felt a little bit of guilt for having doubted her but, even more so, I was extremely proud to be her father. It was such a joyful and intoxicating feeling that it was if I had just smoked a bale of weed. At least that's what I assume it would feel like. There's no sense asking Kendall if that's how it would feel. Perhaps Avery will know? :-)
