LANDLORD BURNED BY POT GROWER

The title of this letter should be "Pot-Pour-Ri." The literal
translation is rotten pot. I couldn't agree more. No, I'm not writing
about the fragrant concoction of flowers, herbs and spices so popular
as gifts at Christmas. I'm speaking of the skunk scent of the other
pot - marijuana. There must be a reason for the putrid odor.

I should have titled this piece "Pot Poor Me." A pot-growing renter
just stiffed me. He left my rental in shambles. Even painting the
entire inside and cleaning the house and carpet with deodorant did not
entirely remove this distinctive moldy smell. The security deposit did
not cover one-third of the cleanup cost. He left the day before the
scheduled walk-through and final rent payment. His note saying the
check was in the mail was the final insult.

My first clue of his nefarious operation was when the neighbors
complained of the awful scent. When I asked him if he was growing
marijuana, he denied it pointing the finger toward the neighbors to
the east. This was probably also true, but was just the beginning of a
smokescreen of lies. Was the whole neighborhood going to pot?

As a person who has painful rheumatoid arthritis, and has seen the
limitations of traditional pain relievers, I was sympathetic to users
(not abusers) of marijuana. No more. Advocates for unlimited
neighborhood growth of pot do not admit (or care) about the damage
caused. Their legacy will necessitate new leases and laws. Once
burned, twice learned.

- - Dick Cory

Chico