The Family (Smoke) Circle
I got pulled over last month. It was late, the night the freeze hit, and I think the cops just wanted to check me out. It was pretty much a routine traffic stop: One officer made up some nonsensical reason for pulling me over while two others hovered around my van acting weird and then they asked me questions about my day. I met them with cool confidence, knowing that – on this rare occasion – I didn’t have any expired so-and-sos or outstanding this-and-thats.
I wasn’t really stressing about any legal hassle – possession of cannabis is effectively decriminalized in Austin – but I would’ve been heartbroken if my stash became property of APD. Thankfully, the shivering officers didn’t ask to search me. So, after they drove off, I searched myself and surprisingly no such ganja was on my person. That’s when it hit me: I’d left that big ol’ bag of marijuana on the coffee table of my parents’ Airbnb.
When it comes to my family, the bud doesn’t fall far from the bush. My folks – funny, philosophical, followers of the Grateful Dead – have what I would broadly describe as “Bill Walton vibes” and cannabis has long been something we’ve shared, laughing around the kitchen table eternally. I take great pride in that I’m currently topping the “best joint roller in the fam” power rankings ... even if it’s only because my dad has Parkinson’s.
He’s a physician who spent his entire career bringing health care to underserved communities and people who can’t afford insurance. Now Tom Curtin takes 17 pills a day to deal with tremors, balance problems, and the many other physical and mental symptoms of the disease. Because of that, we can’t do a lot of the things we used to do together – like play basketball or go on nature walks – but we can still commune over a joint.
Well, it’s a lot stronger, a lot more consistent, and it’s a lot healthier. I lived through the time when the Mexican government and the U.S. were spraying paraquat on it. And you’d get this dope and look at it and say “there’s something wrong here” and you’d taste it and go “ughgh.” It was scary. That’s when I went to indoor growing because I could find my own seeds, grow them indoors, and only use natural fertilizer and Dawn soap for the little mites.