POT HEADS TO HEADLINES

From Here, There And Between

When Barrie made headlines as home of the most prominent pot bust in
Canadian history, Orillians were a tad envious.

Within hours of police descending on the former Molson plant, Barrie
found itself at the centre of an old-fashioned media frenzy, as
reporters gleefully related the details of an indoor grow-operation
said to have housed $30 million worth of marijuana, along the way
showering this city by the bay with the sort of publicity you just
can't buy. No longer content to advertise itself as a place to live,
work and play, Barrie is now, we are led to believe, also an ideal
place to grow.

Residents were predictably shocked, at least they said so when
questioned by reporters hunting for reaction. For the uninitiated, a
typical interview - preferably conducted in the nearest doughnut shop
- - goes something like this:

"Excuse me, sir, does it shock you that a major drug operation was
taking place right in your backyard?" This question is almost always
followed by a brief pause and a faint look of suspicion from the poor
fellow, who'd only come for a cruller and a double-double. "Well, er,
yes, I suppose it does shock me."

"Great."

Several summers ago, local scribes were flown by helicopter to a
densely wooded area outside Orillia, where we found drug-enforcement
officers breaking a serious sweat while hacking their way through a
field of lovingly tended pot. Chopped, stacked and bundled, the
forbidden weed was hauled away in massive nets hung from the
helicopter's belly, looking like airborne aid packages for
underprivileged dopers. The whole scene was surreal for those of us
who were more accustomed to seeing it wrapped up in tight little
joints at Neil Young concerts.

It was, I suppose, meant to impress upon us media folk the length to
which growers will go in the pursuit of a dollar - or, in the case of
another, though no less ambitious operation, $20 million. That was the
estimated value of a massive pot find uprooted by police near Brechin
in 2001, an event that also garnered national headlines after officers
famously buried the massive stash at Orillia's dump, rather than
burning the whole lot at "an undisclosed location."

This not-so-secretive operation was quickly discovered by a small
group of unusually enterprising tokers who sneaked into the landfill
late at night hoping to help themselves to a lifetime's worth of
giggle grass, and were energetically stuffing garbage bags when the
cops showed up.

The irony of the Barrie bust, of course, is that it took place in a
facility once responsible for churning out gallons of glorious nectar
for sale in state-owned liquor stores and Beer Store outlets, where
Ontarians spend their hard-earned dollars on a variety of concoctions
ready-made to take the edge off.

Sort of like smoking pot, but legal. Until the federal government
irons out liberalization plans for this still illicit substance, the
message remains the same: if you plan on altering your mood, then you
had better to do it with law-abiding bottles of booze, mister.

* Frank Matys writes for Orillia Today, a sister paper of The Advance.