Strange Questions: the Good, the Bad, the Funny
first published October 18, 2007
There was a time in my foolish youth, when I truly believed that plant science and social science had nothing in common. Talk about naive. Many years later, a career in the horticultural business has convinced me that taking a few psychology courses wouldn’t have hurt. The reason?—it’s simple: people and their plants come wrapped in the same package, which is why solving a plant’s problem without also tending to its owner’s is a surefire way to fail. Trust me on this; I’ve pretty much encountered it all.

Take the case of a mother, her son and his plant. A few years ago, there was a very distraught, very teary-eyed lady who ran up to me with a single, palm-shaped leaf in hand. I remember the way she held that leaf at arm’s length, as if trying to completely disassociate herself from it. Then, without looking me directly in the eyes, she tossed the specimen on the counter beside me and blurted out, “Is this what I think it is? I found it growing in my son’s room!” Well, it didn’t take a lot of insight on my part to realize she thought the “this” was Cannabis sativum, a.k.a. marijuana. One humorous moment later (for me, that is), I quickly reassured the sobbing mom that the cannabis-shaped leaf was nothing more than false aralia, an attractive tropical plant, and not the dreaded Devil’s lettuce that she had feared. I must say I felt pretty darned good allaying her fears and redeeming her son with one quick plant ID…that is, assuming the false aralia wasn’t a ruse that was swapped in at the last minute to fool Mom.

False aralia is definitely not related to Cannabis sativum!
Marijuana identification may sound like a pretty intense job, but it pales in comparison to dealing with incidents that the greenhouse staff and I have come to affectionately call standoffs—scenarios that usually involve a wife and her husband standing in the garden centre, each with arms folded, each with stern looks on their faces, neither person talking…that is until they spot me approaching. Then, like some miracle, their loss for words disappears, and they proceed to almost kill each other trying to be the first to ask me the dreaded of all questions: “Could you settle an argument for us? He/she says that [fill in the blank], and I told him/her that they’re wrong. Which one of us is right?” Um…Check, please! It’s just a bad scenario guaranteed to end badly because the right answer is always also the wrong answer to the injured party. What you end up with is one person loving you for settling the argument and the other person shooting you daggers. The only thing I’ve found helpful in these cases is showing the couple the correct answer from a gardening book—then they can redirect their anger to the author. The only trick is making sure I’m not the author I’m quoting.
Of course, there are also those problem-solving moments when the answers are quick and easy, but the process leaves you feeling left out. For example, I remember receiving a call where I was asked if there really were male and female trees. Well, before I could even answer, it became apparent (because of the background noise) that I was on the caller’s speakerphone, which was being broadcast over some large, alcohol-fueled party that was clearly in full swing. When I answered that, yes, some trees do have genders, I could hear an explosion of whooping (and some words that are best left out of this column), followed by the unceremonious slam of the phone onto its cradle. I’m guessing that a few dollars exchanged hands over that answer.
Back in my university days, I would never have guessed that my ordinary workday would be so far removed from ordinary. I have to say, though, that the greatest thing about dealing with quirky characters and strange questions is that it adds heart to the scientific equation. Last week, was a perfect example: a customer phones to enquire how many grams of pansy petals were needed per gram of her pet lizard’s bodyweight to keep it properly fed…well, I can honestly say I don’t know, but I sure love the fact that she asked.





