Willie Handler's Blog, page 14

Hear My Interview On The WFOD Show

I did an Internet radio interview on March 12, 2019 on the WFOD SHOW. Listen to me make a fool of myself. Like I had my cam on for a podcast but not my mike.

We chatted about driverless cars,  legalized weed, Chelsea Handler, coffee, Mars, dogs with shirts and much more.

My interview starts at the 30 minute point.

https://williehandler.files.wordpress.com/2019/03/wfod31219t.mp3

Please Don’t Ask Me What I Do

I hate when I meet people and they ask me what I do. It invariably leads to moments of awkwardness punctuated by strange looks. This is how it generally goes.

“What is it that you do?”

“I write.”

“What do you write?”

“I write novels.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Willie Handler.”

“I’ve never heard of you.”

“That’s because I write under a pen name.”

“What’s your pen name?”

“Paige Turner.”

“Oh. I think I’ve heard of you. What kind of novels do you write?”

“I write humor.”

“Cool. So, say something funny.”

“Look, I don’t write jokes. I write novels.”

“Well maybe if you were funny people would read your humor novels.”

That’s the moment I wish a trap door would open and sweep away the person standing in front of me. There are the people who after being told you are a writer, proceed to tell you that they want to working on a novel. But of course, because if I could write a novel, then anyone can.

Lately, I taken a much different approach. This is how it goes now.

“What is it you do?”

“I’m a writer.”

“What do you write?”

“I write obituaries.”

“Seriously?”

“There’s good money in obituary writing. People are always dying.”

“That’s true. You know my mom checks out the obituaries every day.”

“Exactly. It’s one of the most popular sections in a newspaper. That and the comics.”

“Like how do people find you? I’ve never heard anyone hire an obit writer.”

“I find clients online. I fall under freelance writers.”

“Give me an example of an obit you wrote.”

“David Smith passed away suddenly on February 13, 2019 as the result of a series of tragic events. He lost control of the vehicle he was driving and it went over a cliff on Route 321. He was thrown from the car before the car toppled into the ravine. As he got up off the road, he was struck my a car. He fortunately only a sustained a leg fracture. While being transported by ambulance to the hospital, the back door swung open and along with the stretcher he was strapped to flew out of the ambulance onto the roadway. The stretcher caroomed down the road and finally came to a stop in an open field. A relieved man, he got off the stretcher and hobbled back to the road. Before he was able to reach the road, he was stung by a bee and died of anaphylactic shock.  He is survived by his devoted wife of 25 years and best friend, Judy Robinson, as well as his constant source of pride, his son Lionel Bradley Robinson Smith.”

“That is really good. Have you ever considered writing a novel?”

Musings of a Social Media Addict

Dear @writevent person.

Bill Nye, the science guy, suggests that a permanent Mars Colony is pure science fiction. He indicates that anyone who believes in the stuff must be high. So, how does he know about Dix Jenner?

Dear @writevent person,

Mrs. White, my grade 10 English teacher recently contacted me. She had read my first novel, THE ROAD AHEAD, and wants change my grade for that year from a B- to a C+. Isn’t there like a statute of limitations or something like that for school grades?

Dear @ writevent person,

My antagonist, Cheyhto just realized his name is an adaption of the nickname for a certain politician. He is outraged and threatening to withdraw from the book if I don’t make a name change. What do you think of DarthHater or RancidValveeta?



Dear @ writevent person,

I’ve never had good math skills. I’ve trying to figure out how to best price my ebook. Am I better off selling 500 copies at 99 cents a copy or 1 million copies at 1 cent a copy?


Dear @ writevent person,

Police raided my MC’s farm and confiscated all his marijuana plants. It seems he forgot to get a grower’s license. Now my humor book is about a dairy farmer who decides to grow soybean. Yeah, this is going to be so hilarious.

My Field Trip To A Legal Cannabis Grow Op

This week I drove four hours to a large cannabis operation to do research on growing weed for my next book DEEP INTO THE WEEDS. All I can say is that legal weed is big business in Canada.

When we arrived at their visitors’ centre, we were greeted by one of a number of staff who are paid to talk up the company. Such is the state of the uber-competitive Canadian cannabis market. Someone took out coats and brought us to their cafe where we were served lattes.

[image error] [image error]

I found out the company also owns a chain of upscale cafes in Toronto. And the coffee was quite good. Once we had our coffee, we were led into a little theatre to watch a short video on the history of cannabis and to learn what a wonderful therapeutic product that cannabis has been. Throughout our visit, no one ever talked about cannabis in terms of getting stoned. Like the alcohol industry, cannabis is a lifestyle choice with many benefits.

When the film was completed, we were taken on an individualized tour by our guide, Andrew. This place does not have you wait in the lobby with others for an hourly tour. Each person is taken around as they walk in.

Although most of this huge facility is inaccessible, they did set up a few rooms connected to the visitors’ centre to allow guests to view some of the production. Our first stop was the Mother Room.

[image error] [image error]

The plants in this room are called Mothers because they are used for cloning purposes only. Plants are rarely grown from seeds. Cuttings are taken from Mother plants and grown to produce new plants. Unlike the other rooms, there is lots of space between rows to allow staff to reach plants for cuttings.

[image error] [image error]

The next stage is referred to as propagation. Cuttings are placed in nutrient-rich medium to stimulate root and stalk growth. They are kept in what amounts to incubators to maintain high humidity. They receive 20 – 22 hours of lighting. This stage takes from two to four weeks.

We moved on to the Vegetation Room. Once the clones have grown to a certain height, they are placed in plastic pots and moved into a room for the final two growth stages. Indoor growing, particularly greenhouses provides ideal conditions and is much more sustainable than outdoor growing. Weather and pests are no longer a factor, but you can still make use of the sun because a greenhouse is a completely controlled environment. Water and nutrients are fed through drip lines so there is minimal water wasted.  No insecticides or pesticides are used, instead certain micro-organisms are introduced, which attack pests that may appear. The plants receive about sixteen to eighteen hours of lighting. Adjusting the lighting spectrum can mimic sunlight during the different seasons. Plants are really packed into the room.

[image error] [image error]

When the plants reach a certain height, they are encouraged to flower. Adjustments are made to the room to convert it to a Flowering Room. Flowering is triggered by reducing the lighting to twelve hours per day. It is important to keep flowers growing up to get full flowering, so lower branches and excess flower heads are trimmed to focus growth on main four heads. A lattice is used to spread out the branches. Flowering takes about seven to ten weeks. Nutrients are cut off in the last two weeks to flush the plants of chemicals.

We were unable to view the drying or trimming processes. I know that when the flowers reach their maximum size, the are cut off. The rest of the plants are destroyed. The buds are trimmed and dried before packaging or processing.

There were no samples at the end of the tour nor do they sell cannabis to the public. Although cannabis is legal, Ontario only has online sales until April at which time retail stores will begin to open. But they had a fancy gift shop where they sold t-shirts, hats and high-end drug paraphernalia. Not stuff you would typically see in a head shop.

How I Went From Being a Technical Writer To a Creative Writer

For many years, I was a technical writer. Squirreled away in a dusty government office, paper piled everywhere, I churned out public policy documents –  research papers, consultation papers, task force reports, statutory reports, Cabinet submissions, industry bulletins, briefing notes, interpretive guidelines. I got quite good at it after 20 years.

I walked away from that world (except for the occasional freelance job) seven years ago. Wow, has it been that long? I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do back then. After several years of searching, a friend suggested I consider creative writing. “You already know how to write.”

I thought about it. I had always liked the idea of writing novels but didn’t believe I had the necessary skill set. Yet I had been writing for much of my professional life. How different can it be?

I can tell you now, it’s a lot different.

Technical writing is about informing and influencing. It all depends on who is your audience. The informing aspect is to educate the reader about a specific topic. Sometimes, these documents are large info dumps. The influencing part involves selling the reader an idea or public policy position. The reader might be my boss, a politician, or government stakeholders. The audience would really vary. I consider academic and journalistic writing to be similar to what I did.

Creative writing is nothing like technical writing. It’s using imagination or invention to entertain. Although I should point out that some fiction authors do use their novels to inform and influence. A historical fiction book about slavery may be informative and intended to influence readers on social justice issues. But for the most part, it has to be entertaining, Technical writing is rarely entertaining.

I finally decided to try writing a novel and had a particular story in mind. I began writing parts of the story down although not in any particular order. Probably because I didn’t even know where the story should start. I thought it would be prudent to take a novel writing course. That helped because at least I had some basic understanding of the structure of a novel, character development, plot, etc.

When I learned about pantsers and plotters, I discovered that during my years as a technical writer, I was also a pantser. I never did an outline for a report, no matter the length. I just sat down and wrote. That seemed to work for me when I moved into creative writing.

The biggest change for me was writing dialogue. I had never done it. I struggled with dialogue for a while until I literally found my “voice.” The structural part of dialogue took me a little longer, ig, the use of dialogue tags.

Several years into creative writing, I think I’ve successfully made the transition. I’ve landed on a style and genre that I enjoy and feels comfortable. Technical writing provided me with a strong base to start from, but I had to relearn how to write. It’s been a fun journey.

I Don’t Have Any 2019 Writing Goals and That’s Fine With Me

 

Every year around this time, writers ask each other what their writing goals are for the coming year. I always have the same response – I got none.

Some people think I’m just being contrary. I am sometimes, but not in this instance.

Planning doesn’t suit my personality. I never found a plan to be very helpful and a boring process. As far as I’m concerned, I know what I need to do. At some point, I may decide what I need to do should change. That could be because a new opportunity arises, a conflicting priority takes over, or I’m bored and want a change.

That doesn’t mean I don’t finish what I start. But the world around me evolves and I evolve with it. What seemed so important three months ago, might not seem so important next year. It’s also how I write. I’m a pantser and I never prepared an outline before I begin a manuscript. When I sit down at the start of a book, I know who are the protagonist, antagonist and some side characters. I also know what the story is about. Everything else is determined as a write – the cliffhangers, individual scenes, the plot arches, the ending, etc.

I used to do planning because I was required to when I worked. I just went through the motions and kept it generalized. That way when I was evaluated based on how well I did at achieving my goals, I could fudge it. Priorities change and sometimes it makes no sense to continue to try to achieve a goal. Yet, I saw some people doggedly continue working on something that no longer mattered.

Recently, I saw a tweet from another writer. She indicated that her goal in 2018 was to get her manuscript published. However, she was unable to land an agent or publisher. She posed the question – Am I a failure? When you put it that way, yes. But if she had listed a series of steps to accomplish that goal – send out manuscript to beta readers, revise manuscript, send out 50 query letters, etc. – then maybe the answer is different. If you’re going to be goal setting, then do it properly and don’t set yourself up for failure.

So how do I know I’m a success? That’s easy. If I’m happy with my experiences, achieved results, and relationships then I’m a success. By these standards, I had a great 2018. I completed several drafts of my WIP, I signed a publishing contract, started a new WIP, learned a lot more about writing and met some amazing people.

Yeah, I’m pretty happy about how things worked out. So my goals for 2019 remain unchanged  – I got none!

 

Twas The Restoration Period Before Christmas…

[image error]

Twas the restoratio n period before Christmas, when under the roof,

 

 

Not a creature was  stirring, not even a Poof.

Hosiery was meticulously suspended by hooks on the wall,

In anticipation that visitation from St Nicholas would befall.

 

The offspring were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of bousou spread danced in their heads.

And Seepa with her dangly bracelets, Bleeker in his cap,

Had just settled their cer ebrums for a long Martian nap.

 

When out in the lanew ay there arose such a dissonance,

I tripped over the bed to see what was outside the residence.

I stumbled to the entrance though I intended to march,

Threw open the latches and stooped under the arch.

 

The glow from the lighting on fallen red dust,

Gave lustre to objects corroded by rust.

When to my opt ical sensory organs should appear an apparition,

A miniature transporter, and eight tiny Blue Martians.

 

With a little Red operator, so lively and thick,

I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.

Rapid as sling competitors his diminutive helpers came,

And he relied on telepathy  as he addressed them by name!

 

“Now, Steeto! now, Prinko! now, Deela and Prakin!

On, Cooma! On, Breema! on, Gonomo and Ranen!

To the top of the dwelling! to the top of the wall!

Now scurry away! Scurry  away! Scurry away all!”

 

As crystalline particles that before wild dust storms fly,

When they meet with an impediment, ascending to the sky,

So up to the structure-top the miniature aides flew,

Transporter glowing like a ngono, and St Nicholas too.

 

And then I heard them above us, so full of glee,

The waddling, stomping and shuffling of each little tootsie.

As I retracted my cranium, and spun around to see,

Through the rear passage, St. Nicholas leaping to me.

 

He was dressed in shimmering garments, including his feet,

And he accessorized with flashy stones, his outfit complete.

A bundle of gifts was carried  by his Blue assistants,

And he looked like an important being, at least from a distance.

 

His eyes-how they twinkled! his ears non-existent!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose quite insistent!

His coppery skin had so many wrinkles,

And the top of his cranium was  hairless, without even sprinkles.

 

He clenched between his incisors a medical device,

From the look on his face, he bought it at bargain price.

His visage was wider than it was h igh for a reason,

His abdominal region made me think it was basketball season!

 

He was plump for a Martian, a m ultigenerational gnome,

And I laughed when I saw him, nothing like St. Nick back home!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon led me to know I had nothing to dread.

 

He transferred no thoughts, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the hosiery, then looked at me with a smirk.

And laying his finger in front of his face,

And giving a nod, disappeared with no trace!

 

He boarded his transporter, to his squad gave a sign,

And away they all flew toward the next shrine.

But my mind picked up a thought, ‘ere he drove out of sight,

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!

Have a Jewish Christmas

Christmas can be an awkward time if you’re Jewish. So much of the holiday is secular but it’s celebrating the birth of…well let’s not go there. After all these years it’s feels just as awkward. Do I wish people a Merry Christmas or do I stick with Happy Holidays? If they wish me a Merry Christmas do I tell them I don’t celebrate Christmas or just smile? I do exchange gifts with Christian friends, but not with Jews.

The past couple of weeks I’ve been tagged on Twitter with various Christmas themed hashtag games. Like list your favorite Christmas tradition. To be honest, that would be going out for Chinese food and seeing a movie. My best strategy this time of year is keeping my head down and try not to attract much attention. Like when you were in school and didn’t do your homework, so you would try to look inconspicuous, hoping the teacher didn’t ask you a question.

Every Jewish person deals with it differently. Hey, some make money off of Christmas. Both Neil Diamond and Barbara Streisand released Christmas albums over the years. In fact, some of the most famous Chirstmas songs have been written by /Jewish people – Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow (Sammy Cahn, Jule Styne),  Do You Hear What I Hear (Gloria Shayne Baker) and It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (George Wyle, Edward Pola), White Christmas (Irving Berlin), Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (Johnny Marks), and so many more.

Many Jews travel over the Christmas break. That’s a nice way to spend Christmas but unless you’re traveling to Iran, you aren’t going to be able to avoid the pervasiveness of the holiday.

Frankly, there are about 6 Jewish holidays between Labor Day and New Years, so by the time Christmas rolls around, we have had our fill of family dinners. By the time Christmas comes, I’m happy to have a couple of stress-free days and quiet. I so some writing, reading and TV binge watching. Oh, and enjoy the cookies that my non-Jewish friends have baked.

Happy holidays and have a safe and healthy New Years.

Willie

An Interview With Author C.L. Ogilvie

[image error]

One of my favourite Twitter personalities is C.L Ogilvie. She’s funny, quirky, genuine  and always changing her hair. So, I thought, wouldn’t it be interesting to interview her for my blog. Glad I did.

 

Tell us a little about your background and how you became interested in writing.

Growing up, I loved it when my parents read to me, but I was also very impatient. If they were busy, I’d have story time by myself. The first book I remember reading on my own was 101 Dalmatians when I was approx. four years old. In school, I performed plays and skits for Show and Tell. I wrote my first “book” when I was seven, a story about a unicorn who goes on an adventure looking for a boyfriend, so clearly, my love of romantic comedies started early. I’ve just always loved stories.

You’re published already. Tell us about your books and how you came up with the stories.

I wrote Some Assistance Required in 2014. It’s about a woman named Glenda Melner looking for a job after the portal to the other realm opens and the market is flooded with magical creatures. She becomes the legal assistant for a vampire lawyer who eventually decides he doesn’t want to ever have to replace her. It was inspired by my boss in Yellowknife. She was one of the top lawyers in northern Canada, incredibly smart and completely scatterbrained. She used to joke about asking the military to delay our next posting. There were also a lot of vampire romance novels out at a time that usually involved a woman falling in love with a vampire and wanting to become like him, and I thought, wouldn’t it be funny if it was the complete opposite, like the woman has absolutely no interest in becoming immortal? Once I decided to make fantasy and supernatural creatures an everyday occurrence, the story kind of took off from there.

My second novel, Skipping Out on Henry, is about two friends, Posey and Tabitha, who are on vacation in London, England and accidentally end up back in the year 1539, just as Anne of Cleves is about to marry King Henry VIII. After Posey unwittingly convinces Anne to skip out on the wedding, she and Tabitha pose as the princess and her lady-in-waiting while they try to restore the correct timeline. It was basically a tribute to my best friend, Jill. Originally, it was just going to a contemporary novel based on our real-life plans to go to England together, but my husband made an offhand joke about how Jill and I always get ourselves into ridiculous situations. “I don’t even want to think about where the two of you would end up.” And boom—time travel novel. Also, Anne of Cleves is my favorite of King Henry’s wives. I’ve always been fascinated by his claims he’d been misled by her portrait.

Do you believe you can develop humour writing skills or is it something you are hard-wired to do? I got my sense of humour from my dad, what about you?

I think I get my sense of humor from my whole family. We’re all very sarcastic and quick to make a joke. Any time we all get together for a game night, it always descends into Lord of Flies with (good-natured) trash talk. We even have an annual family camping trip where we compete against each other for a trophy, with water balloon fights, scavenger hunts, and grudges that last a lifetime. (Ask my mother about the difference between seaweed and sea kelp. I dare you.)

Personally, I think anyone can be funny, but comedy requires skills you need to work at and develop. Humour is so subjective, you really have to fine tune your particular brand. A joke has to match the tone of your novel, otherwise it won’t land. I tend to rely on dialogue more than scenes or settings for humor, so one thing I do is watch a lot of comedians and pay close attention to their timing, delivery, and word choice.

Who are your favourite funny people and what about them do you like?

I love Mike Birbiglia and Pete Holmes because they can be very funny without being mean-spirited or relying on shock laughs. And Mindy Kaling is an absolute queen of blending self-centered snark with genuine heart.  In my personal life, though, my husband makes the worst dad jokes (which I love, don’t ever stop), and I love my best friend Jill’s random but hilarious observations.

Who are your inspirations in the literary world and beyond?

Leigh Bardugo is a big one for me. I love how she can seamlessly blend character banter into intense action scenes without it coming across as flippant. And her world building skills are phenomenal. I’m also a huge fan of Erin Michelle Sky and Steven Brown and their Tales of Wendy series, a Peter Pan retelling. Their humor writing is so tight and perfectly executed that by the time I finished the first installment, The Wendy, an eyebrow was my favorite character!

You’ve compared your books to junk food. Aren’t you knocking your own brand? Are serious genres necessarily better?

I don’t think it’s knocking it at all. Junk food is tied to some of my best memories. Eating cookie dough at sleep overs while watching movies and giggling about school crushes. Beef jerky and Cheetos during all-night Risk games. Super Bowl parties, game nights, stopping for snacks with my roommates on our way home from the clubs. That’s what I want my brand to be: silly fun.

I don’t really buy into the idea that one genre is better than another, they just offer something different. Their value lays in what the readers get out of it, and they each come with their own set of challenges. I don’t think one is “easier” to write or consume than another. Each genre is just its own examination of the world. It can’t all be 1984, that would be so bleak!

How have you evolved as a writer?

I’m not entirely sure that I have. Most days I still feel like a newbie. One common mistake I feel I made in my first two novels was mashing too many genre elements together. A time travelling historical romantic comedy is a bit of a marketing nightmare. I’m also making a concentrated effort to write tighter dialogue and improve pacing. I tend to cram in as many jokes as I can and then have to rush through to the ending.

I follow your tweets and you have some interesting idiosyncrasies and pet peeves. Would you care to highlight the key ones for the 68 people who follow my blog?

I love cooking but dread doing it for other people because I’m always worried I’ll make them sick somehow. I’m horrible at reading maps and get lost all the time, even in the cities where I live. Once I got myself stuck in a dress while shopping and had to call for help. I have a knack for injuring myself in really weird ways, like dislocating my shoulder while I was changing my shirt.

Also, please don’t ever take me to a restaurant on my birthday and have the wait staff ambush me with a song in front of everyone. It’s mortifying. Normally, I love it when I get free cake, but not like that.

Is there anything different you would like to try in the future?

Right now, I am working on a dystopian story. It’s been a challenge to tackle darker subject matter while still adding my own style of humor.

Where can we find you online?

If you like book reviews and random thoughts on writing and humor, you check out my blog clogilvie.wordpress.com, or you can follow me on Twitter (@CLOgilvie) and Facebook.

Canadians Are In The Weeds

When October 17th rolled around, I was so excited. That was the day marijuana finally become legal in Canada. No more buying weed in alleyways or out of half-opened car windows. Now I would able to shop in a friendly store, use my credit card and walk down the street, rolling a joint. This was huge.

I did what every other curious and weed-deprived Canadian did that day, head over to the closest cannabis store to buy some legal weed. I asked “Alexa” where the closest store was and she told me there was one just 20 minutes away in a strip mall on Yonge Street.

It was shortly before noon when I arrived at Higher Solutions. Actually, I was a block away from the store because that’s how long the lineup was to get in. This was longer than the lineups to get into Best Buy on Black Friday.

Gazing down the line, I saw all types of Canadians – businessmen, soccer moms, seniors, my barber Vince, it was inspirational. I tapped the shoulder of the woman in front of me. She was holding several bags of groceries. I guess she was in line for an after dinner indulgence.

“Any idea how long this line is?” I asked.

She answers without looking up from her phone, “about an hour according to the person at the door.”

“Oh, crap!”

“I’m texting my friend who’s in line at Smoking Leaves on Bayview Avenue. She says the line there is longer.”

“Damn,” I said. “Didn’t think they would be this busy.”

I settled in for a long wait. I pulled out my phone and checked out the store’s inventory. There were over a hundred strains. How do you begin to decide what to buy?

I got bored with flipping through the inventory and began posting photos of the lineup on Instagram. Every so often an excited person would walk by holding a brown paper bag. They would shout encouragement to those of us still in line.

It was over an hour by the time I reached the front of the line. Two security guards stood by the doors eyeballing the line. I noticed a sign on the door that indicated that all customers would need to provide photo ID as proof of age. An older woman carrying a pricey Burberry handbag walked out the door. One of the guards directed me inside.

I stood in awe as I entered the store. The walls were lined with glass mason jars with beautiful green buds. The aroma in the stored was overpowering. A short woman in a green uniform stepped forward to greet me.

“Welcome to Higher Solutions,” she said. “Have you been here before?”

An odd questions considering it was their first day of operations. I shook my head. “Isn’t it opening day?”

“Well technically it is,” she said. “But we’ve been operating a dispensary at this location for the past 18 months, but under another name.”

“Cool.”

So do you know what you’re looking for?” she asked.

“Not really,” I said. “It’s been sometime since I last bought weed.”

“Let me help you narrow it down. Are you interested in an energy boost, creative thinking, chilling out, pain management, a sleep aid, or dealing with anxiety?”

“Hmm, didn’t realize there would be so many options,” I said scratching my chin. “I’m a writer so I’ll go with creative thinking.”

“Okay, you’ll be looking at Sativa strains,” she said. “Wait in the line at the purple counter until someone is free.”

I walked over and stood in another line. This was starting to remind me what it’s like to have my government health card renewed. A few minutes later I was at the counter. A man in a green polo shirt with the name of the store monogrammed on it. He had a neatly trimmed beard and smiled as I approached.

“What can I get for you, sir?”

“I’m interested in some weed that will help me with creative thinking.”

“Excellent,” he said as he reached to grab a few jars off the shelf behind him. “I have a few here to consider.”

He flips open the top of one jar. “This is Sour Diesel. It’s fast-acting and gives a great cerebral high.”

He waves his hand over the top of the jar until the pungent odour reaches my nostrils.

“Wow, that smells awesome.”

He opens another jar and does the same. “This is Golden Goat known for its unbeatable tropical flavor and uplifting body high and my personal favourite.”

I nod approvingly.

“My other recommendation is Lemon Skunk, known for its sociable high and sweet, tangy flavour.”

I inhale the aroma and smile. “They all seem great. But I think I’ll go with the first one.”

“An excellent choice,” says the clerk as he puts away the other jars. “How much were you looking to purchase? The product sells for $11.75 per gram.”

“Ouch! Give me 5 grams. I’ll see what I think of it.”

The clerk grabs a scale and measures out exactly 5 grams and places it into a plastic container. “I just need to see your photo ID.”

“Sure,” I say and pull out my government health card from my wallet and hand it over.

He looks at it and hands it back. “I’m sorry but we don’t accept health cards because they don’t have your age. I’ll need your driver’s license.”

“I don’t drive. Besides look at me, I’m 44 years old. Do I look like a teenager?”

“Our policy is to ID everyone. We don’t presume to know or guess at people’s ages.”

“I’ve been waiting in line forever.”

“I’m sorry sir, that is our policy.”

“But I have photo ID.”

“We need something with your age.”

“Look I’ve been waiting since the age of 16 to buy pot legally and I want to buy it now!”

“Please don’t raise your voice or I’ll have to call security over.”

“Well just sell me my pot!”

The clerk turns around and presses a red button on the wall. Seconds later, two large fellows drag me away from the counter. I struggle to get loose to now avail. The next thing I know I’m back outside eyeballing the lineup in front of the store.

I pull out my phone. “Hey Dan are you still selling? Awesome. You got any Sour Diesel? $8.50 a gram. Nice. I’ll meet you in the usual spot.”