Good evening friends.  Looks like number 2 won the vote for tonight’s story.   So here’s the story when my father caught me smoking marijuana  in 1983.

Now just to back up a little, my father did smoke Marijuana now and then.  I did Not know that til after he died in 1984. As i told you he was a very successful commercial real estate broker in NYC and Long Island through the 1970’s and up to his death in 1984.

One day in the late 70’s he gets a call from a Middle Eastern political group that wanted to lease space in the United Nations building.   But they were very well known and did not want the press knowing they were looking for commercial space in NYC.  So my father had about 10 of them stay at our home in Long Island.    They were having a blast.  So my genius father decided to brake out some of the Marijuana to add to the fun.

Now as many of you know,  Marijuana can make some people very paranoid and they have a terrible reaction to it. One of these Middle Eastern men had that reaction and now the group of them thought my father might have tried to poison him to kill the man quietly.  So our home literally almost became war grounds for the Jewish Smith family and the Arabs in from the middle east because they trusted my fathers real estate skills.

Real quick on the Jewish thing, I am not Jewish, when your father dies you take the religion on your mother.  My mother is Italian Catholic.  Having said that, if my father were still alive, I would still consider myself Italian Catholic. No offense to being Jewish, its a very nice religion, i just felt no connection to it.  And with that said, I never went to church either.  What I’m saying is at 13 years old, i just wanted the girls.

Ok, back to the Middle Eastern War going on in our Long Island Home.  My mother gets the MVP award here.  My mother suggested to the the man who was having paranoid attacks and hallucinations to lay down on the couch and just take deep breathes.  She then was putting a cold washcloth over his head, and as she was doing this was holding his hand and letting him know he was going to be OK.  The rest of the Middle Eastern Entourage realized then there was no espionage going on here.  So everybody went to bed and woke up all lovey dovey in the morning.   My father took the entourage into the city and closed a deal with them that very next day.  When my father got home from work that day, my mother ripped him apart verbally with words I’ve never heard before.   OK, so u get the picture.

Now, back to me and 1983.  I was 13 years old and at my oldest sister’s party.  I have 5 sisters, she is the oldest, she was 22 at that time.  I was at her apartment in the city, a couple of people were smoking some weed, and i asked them if I can take a few drags and they said “sure why not ?” —  It was so strong I went into my sisters bedroom to lay down and the room was spinning like you could not believe.  Two hours later my uncle (my father’s brother) showed up at the party. Once he saw the condition i was in he called my father, and my father and mother drove in from Long Island (20 miles) to come get me.

When he got there and he walked in the room, I was in shock and knew I was dead and busted.  So he said firmly, get your things, we’re going home. Once we started approaching the block we lived on, he drove right past it. I said “Dad you missed the turn” — He said “We’re not going home”  — I was like WTF.

Next thing I know he turns me into the Great Neck police and reports me for using marijuana.  Great Neck was the town we lived in.  The police said we can’t arrest him, he is a minor, but  they scared the _hit out of me and wrote up an incident report.

Now please don’t tie this story with the struggles I had from 36 years old til I was 44 years old. After that incident with my dad, I was always in long term relationships with nice girls and staying out of trouble.  Not doing well in school, but no boozing or anything else all the way up until I was 36 years old.  I was clean and sober and quite nerdy despite my lethally handsome good looks, my bedroom eyes and a full head of hair back then.

So friends that concludes the story of my father catching me smoke marijuana in 1983.  Hope you all enjoyed it.

Signing off from Puerto Rico on day 228.  Scott Smith for Sammy & Family.