I gave them a safe haven.
As a young man, my pals and I were always looking for someplace we could call our own.
We wanted to hang out, talk, and maybe smoke a bit of pot without getting caught.
We didn’t have anyplace like that near to us. All we had was an old meadow with an abandoned caboose. The caboose must have flipped off the tracks and the train company didn’t feel it was worth retrieving. We cleaned up that old caboose, got rid of the snakes and spiders, hung up some posters, and called it ours. It would have been the perfect clubhouse if we were younger, but we were in high school. Now that I am older and have a teenaged son of my own, I try to put myself in his place. I don’t want to be his friend, but I don’t want to be his enemy either. Now the kids use the internet on their phones, so instead of Playboy or Penthouse, they pull up a website. They still have their marijuana, and an old shed at the end of the yard. I have often smelled the odor of marijuana coming from that old shed. don’t want him to think I am saying it’s all right for him to smoke pot, but I can’t say it’s wrong either. As long as the boys are safe, I feel safe. I have often thought about going out there and breaking up the party, but it seems harmless. How can I start yelling at the kids for smoking pot when it wasn’t all that long ago that I was lighting up a joint in the old railroad car?