HOW TO TELL WHEN THE WHOLE NEIGHBOURHOOD IS GOING TO POT

How well do you know your neighbours? How well do you know Bernie and
Beatrice to the right and Linus and Lucy to the left? And what about
Willard and Wanda across the street? Because according to a recent rash of
media reports -- sparked and supported by an outbreak of assorted arrests
- -- houses in quiet suburban neighborhoods are being covertly used as
greenhouses to grow ganja. Weed. Herb. Jive Stick. The Righteous Bush.
Astro Turf. Black Gold. Gigglesmoke. Mary Jane. That's right, marijuana.

And we're not talking about one or two puny plants here. We're talking
spacious, three-floor houses literally crammed with hundreds of metre-high
plants with a street value of upwards of half-a-million dollars. Hey,
that's a lot of dollars, and that's a lot of dope. The burgeoning number of
arrests indicates that this is big business that, like City TV, is
"everywhere." Maybe even on your street.

Imagine for a moment that Willard, the nice, innocent (albeit, admittedly
eccentric) guy across the road -- who's forever coming over and asking if
he can borrow an egg, a cup of sugar and an old pair of your wife's
pantyhose (ostensibly to secure his tomato plants) -- may not be quite as
innocent as you think. He may be up to no good. Bogarting the local hydro
company, not to mention you and your other neighbours -- unless they're all
in on this, too -- by devaluing neighbourhood property should he get
pinched by police.

Typically, after every big bust, neighbours exclaim in unison: "We never
suspected a thing. They were quiet people. They kept to themselves.
Although they did listen to an awful lot of music by Bob Marley and The
Wailers!"

Law enforcement officials say that if these criminals are to be caught,
their neighbours must be more aware of the problem, and more vigilant.
Neighbourhood Watch, kicked up a notch! As a public service (Public
Service, after all, is my middle name), I'm going to give you the straight
dope on these dudes. I'm here to tell you, there's a good chance your
neighbours are growing the whacky tobaccy in their house if...

You greet them with a nice, neighbourly, "Hi!", and they respond with a
slow, smiley, honest, "Yes. Very."

They flinch when you ask if they have a roach problem.

They refer to their backyard composter as "the big bong out back."

They talk reverently about Jerry Garcia and you realize they're not just
mangling the name of a popular Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

When you knock on their door, they automatically shout out: "Dave's not
here." And if you happen to reply, "No, man, I'm Dave", they'll answer, by
rote, "Dave's not here!"

They buy Twinkies and Visine in bulk.

The hydro rep complains of dizziness after reading their meter.

They break out in a nervous, guilty sweat when you innocently employ terms
like "hash it out."

They threaten you with inhumanities upon your person when you casually
suggest that The Doobie Brothers stunk, and The Grateful Dead are overrated.

They threaten you with greater inhumanities upon your person when you ask
if they'd like you to "cut their grass" while they're on holidays. Good
citizens: I hope this helps. And remember to keep an ear out for the
neighbour who suggests "the whole neighbourhood is going to pot." Hey,
maybe he knows something!