(Sharon continues her Notes from the Playground series)
We took the kids to the park this afternoon to enjoy the last days of summer (ok, fall). Per my son’s request, we split up before heading in. He and I took the south entrance near Hamilton Middle School and my husband and daughter went in by the wading pool. As I approached the merry go round, I saw my husband snicker. He walked over to me and asked if I could smell it. Before the sound “sm” left his lips, I already knew what he was talking about – the unmistakable scent of herb.
It was emanating from the men’s bathroom, easily twenty or maybe thirty feet away, and boy did it stank (possibly in a good way I suppose, if you use that as a barometer of pot quality). Sure enough, a few minutes later, a motley looking pair of high schoolers spilled out, practically bumping into one another – each unintentionally doing a real life version of Jeff Spicoli from Fast Times. You know that scene where he steps out of his van amidst a fog of smoke, beating his head with his black and white checkered vans saying “dude, I can’t feel my head.” These kids were trying so hard to act nonchalant about it all, swaggering around with little puffer clouds around their heads, Pig-pen style. Did they actually think no one would notice? My husband found the whole thing hilarious.
If you’ve spent some quality time at the park, you probably wouldn’t be that surprised. From time to time, you can find a gaggle of teenagers lounging on the picnic benches in that little raised area at the southeast corner, smoking half way on the down low but simultaneously in your face with typical teenager bravado. But why the bathroom? Especially on a perfectly beautiful day? C’mon. Now I’m not a frequent user of park bathrooms. Even with a pre-schooler, who needs many a potty break, I rarely step foot inside. Why would I? As nice as the park is, the bathrooms are foul. I’m guessing that our hard working tax dollars can’t stretch far enough for a little janitorial staff now and again.
At this point in life, I’m not a big fan of smoke either, especially not where the little ones are. Cigarettes are nasty and cigar smoke has that thick, choking quality. People try to pass them off as high brow, but let’s be real – for us regular folk, they’re just fat ass ciggies with noxious fumes. And the worst, in my humble non-smoker opinion, are cloves. There’s just something about them that makes me gag. And who the hell could chain smoke cloves anyway? I once saw a girl on Broadway smoke five in a row – practically the entire time I was having dinner. I mean, wouldn’t that literally make your lungs bleed? Yeah, I have to say, smoking and kid’s parks don’t really go. It seems like an affront on childhood or something.
Yet in all of this, Evie was happily razzing up a storm in her bjorn, with her thankfully still developing sense of smell. Or maybe she could smell it but didn’t mind. So now I’m left wondering…should I be worried?
I was at Wallingford park on Sunday and noticed two men that looked like janitorial staff enter the (womens) bathroom. While they were inside I heard all sorts of water noises (flushing, sinks running, etc), they were even carrying cleaning supplies (though I didn’t get a good look at what exactly they were carrying). It seemed a bit odd that they would be there on a Sunday around noon, but other than that it seemed like they were doing their job. Oh, and being a guy I didn’t inspect their work.
I wouldn’t worry Sharon. I was exposed to the smell a lot from ages 8-14, and had no idea what it was. It almost didn’t register for me.
I just couldn’t understand why my parents would freak out sometimes when someone opened my cousins’ door and a cloud of smoke came out. Especially not since they also smoked cigarettes in the front yard. Made no sense. But grownups are weird, so I didn’t pay no mind!
😉
Thanks Chris! Actually, I was thinking more that Evie might become a Spicoli herself sometime in the future than worried about her baby lungs. Sometimes she has that certain sly dog look in her eyes…
I hate to nitpick, but Sharon has a created an amalgam of two separate scenes from Fast Times. When Spicoli beats his head with the checkered Van he’s sitting in his bedroom talking on the telephone with Eric Stoltz’s character, to whom he says, “That was my skull! I’m so wasted!” The rolling-out-of-the-smoky-van scene comes later on.
That is all.
Perhaps Spicoli could have uh, done a little more with himself. But he had a good time, yeah?
Doug – you are sooooooooooo right!!! I’m embarrassed to have mixed up those scenes (sorry Cameron). Pretty soon, I’ll be forgetting lines from Dazed and Confused too and then I’ll know that I need some herb of my own. These darn kiddos just take up so much time!
Or, maybe Sharon was just counting on the fact that everyone that watched ‘Fast Times’ when it came out was too stoned to remember those sorts of details. But, seriously, as a parent of kids not too far from joining the middle school ranks, this story (Sharon’s, not Fast Times at Ridgemont High) concerns me a bit. I guess I’m getting old.
I would be more concerned about cigs or booze than some pot. If your kid smells it they probably aren’t going to know what it is, and there is no way it’s going to mean they will smoke pot (at least not because of this incident, your kid IS going to smoke pot at some point.) the only reason this is even being brought up is because pot isn’t legal, which it should be anyway, and probably will be in your kids lifetime. I really don’t think some 14 year olds will try to get your babies high. I don’t really think a park full of kids it the best place to spark one up but if it happens it happens. Just my 2 cents!
Quick note: I think it’s awesome that people are even reading my new post series. 🙂
That said, my writing clearly needs a little work (which is why I started doing this in the first place) as I’m gathering from the comments that my intended message wasn’t very clear. I actually thought the boys were funny and it reminded me of Fast Times (fond memories). I think my little cigarrette smoke tirade got interlinked with the herb story. In any case, I’m down with the natural and was musing as to whether my own little girl would turn into a mini Spicoli at some point. My husband re-read the piece and said he thought I was worried about her baby lungs. Oops…I promise my next installment won’t be so murky 🙂
I went to Hamilton 25 years ago. It’s funny to hear that exactly the same stuff is going on in that park. The smokers hung out in the same area then too.