What's that funny smell?

One thing Ken is really good at is coming up with stuff to do. I suck at it. Yesterday he suggested we go to Golden Ears Park & Alouette Lake. It is quite a drive from here, but doable, especially since Nicholas had a really good morning nap and Ethan has decided to go off of naps altogether thank you very much.

When I was much younger, we lived closer to Golden Ears, and made many a trip up there to frolic in the lake and spend the day hanging out. I am sure my parents would be thrilled to know that my first memory of this place wasn't the family fun, bonding, love and warm & fuzzy stuff. No, I have only one distinct memory of the lake, and it is the the fact that it was the first time I had ever smelled pot. I was about 8 or 9 years old, and I remember asking my dad what the smell was. I don't remember his response, but I am sure it wasn't something along the lines of "oh, they are just smoking some illegal drugs - and probably having a hell of a fun time doing it". I don't remember the next time I smelled pot, or the time after that, or much about the first (and pretty much only) time I tried it myself (mom, cover your eyes). Gee, I hope with that admission I have not turned into a horrible influence for my younger siblings.

Hell, the fact that I have pretty much spent most of my life in Vancouver and have only smoked weed a couple of times is shocking in and of itself - considering one of the more interesting places to visit here (yes, this is in some guidebooks) is The "pot block" of 300-block of West Hastings St in Vancouver - home to the BC Marijuana Party, Pot-TV, and the Museum of Psychoactive Substances.

Well, things sure haven't changed in over 20 years. Yesterday at the lake there were a group of about 10 kids (I'd say they were about 14-16) all smoking weed. Yup, anyone within a 50 foot radius would have been higher than I ever was when I actually tried the stuff many many moons ago. I could see Ethan thinking about what they were doing (he hasn't even seen anyone ever smoking a cigarette) but he didn't ask. I did however, start to wonder if the big blue cloud affected his little brain when he started calling all the inflatable rafts in the lake "speedboats".