WHERE CAPITALISM DOESN'T WEAR ANY PANTS

The place where the primal, elemental, driving forces of B.C. -- the love
of nature, the devotion to capitalism, the disinclination to wear pants --
all come together is at the foot of Point Grey's bluffs on Wreck Beach.

And if you add to that mix the Lower Mainland's health-mindedness and
avidity for smokable organics, you can find the whole bundle personified in
a Wreck Beach habitue who goes by the name of Watermelon.

Watermelon -- whose friends call her Water, or Melon, or Watermelon -- is
in her late twenties and blond and brown. Her father was a fighter pilot
and an alderman and once ran for mayor in Kamloops.

Watermelon discovered Wreck Beach after moving to Vancouver to study theatre.

A couple of years later, she had her fruito-organo-capitalist epiphany on
the beach.

"I slept over one night and woke up and I was really thirsty.

"So I found this fellow who sold me a can of fruit juice, and it was like
sugar water. And I thought, this is terrible. I would have been happier
spending $2 on an orange.

"So a couple of days later, I took down some apples and oranges and
watermelons and started selling them. And it was a success."

Fruitwise, it's mostly watermelons now. She trucks a few down Trail Six to
the beach most every summer day.

As far as vending goes, Wreck Beach has achieved a level of civilization
unsurpassed outside of ballparks and perhaps Atlantis at its apex.

You can buy ostrich burgers and sandwiches and Thai sate from makeshift
establishments that look like they're right out of Robinson Crusoe.

And gypsy vendors show up at your towel offering everything else. Beer,
pineapple, pizza, fruit-laden rum drinks.

Watermelon also sells baked goods these days. Mini-quiches and apricot
tarts and gingersnaps, which she makes with organic flour that she mills
herself.

The gingersnaps got her into trouble last year. An undercover cop bought
one and took it to the lab. The Crown now alleges that some of that
gingersnap's snap came from pot that somehow got into it.

It probably didn't help matters that Watermelon's been MC at the Cannabis
Cup competition in Amsterdam for the past two years.

Watermelon's cookie trial is scheduled for April 2003, but it might be
overtaken by events. Britain has just made personal use of marijuana a
ticketable offence, like double-parking. No criminal record.

Canada's justice minister is also thinking of decriminalizing marijuana.

Even if he doesn't, the Crown might lose the evidence. Sooner or later, the
cop guarding that gingersnap is going to run out of Timbits with a full cup
of coffee.

Watermelon is up to a lot these days.

She does naked stand-up comedy. She models for London-based
artist/photographer Maria Coletsis. In September, she's going to L.A. to
shoot a cooking show for DVD titled Baked and Baking.

Watermelon will be the 2003 calendar girl for High Times magazine. She
hosts the neo-vaudeville Grow Show at the Croatian Cultural Centre. Next
performances, Aug. 5 and 19.

But she remains devoted to Wreck Beach. She says it's her church.

"You go down there and people can't be judged on their fancy outfits and
their cars. And it's also a very tolerant society. You really really really
gotta screw up.

"I mean, a lot of people go down to party, I think, and then they get
caught up with the natural wonder of it all.

"And then the opposite happens. These people go down 'cause they're nature
lovers, and they get caught up with the community."