i grew like weed

So, my dad was a maintenance smoker. In order to maintain, he smoked. While I was growing up he would wake/bake, go to work, come home, fire it up, sit down to dinner w/ the family, and after the kids went to bed he'd hit it again.

My mom hated it. She became a detractor after a bad acid trip when I was 4. When I realized, in my pre-teens, he was "taking drugs" I was staunchly opposed. Just say no. On one occasion I was so mad at him (for reasons I can't remember) that I called the operator to "get me the police" (this was before you could dial 911). I lost my nerve while the phone was ringing.

In my late teens I thought it was awesome, and would shave his stash or join him from time to time.

In retrospect I can't believe what a selfish little man my father was. You can be a brain surgeon on meth if you can pull it off. I don't care. Being a parent is a different, more complicated, operation. Ultimately, his entertainment took precedent over my development.

There are a lot of reasons why I came out all twisted, but this is a big part.

Children build their unconscious perspectives based on cues taken from their primary role models. Imagine you are a three year old trying to get a handle on the world and what you get to work with is some burnout's stoned philosophizing.

Imagine you are a 12 year old trying to negotiate the new social minefield of jr. high school and the best advice you can get is some stoner's fried logic.

Etc.