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The Global Marijuana March at Queen’s Park on May 6 was more Gay Pride, Caribana or beer festival than hardcore protest, which turns tokers off.
The happening was attended by some 15,000 to 20,000, and like those other more mainstream fests, organizers paid all City of Toronto fees, including police hourly wages, and roped in corporate sponsors Pizza Pizza, Showcase (for the TV show Weeds), Ontario Corn Roasters and NOW.
The feds deny there’s a cannabis culture but allow corporations to peddle munchies and television programs catering to the non-existent group.
Steeltown’s reefer refugees are making good coin renting the BMW of bong hitting devices (price $1,200) for $5 to festival-goers. You supply the bud.
Patrons pass their green to an employee, who vaporizes it and passes back a bag of THC molecules. The Volcano has a rep for taking the worst schwag and turning it into an amazing stone.
“Mernaghjuana, keep selling the Vapor,” Chris Goodwin happily yells to me. In between my regular rally chants of “If you love marijuana, let me hear you say 420,” “DEA go away – we love our pot cafés,” I’m pumping sales and sponsors.
Then Goodwin passes up the Volcano bag and I make the sales pitch to try before you buy while demonstrating how to inhale.
A few minutes after the hourly waged cops wonder through the crowd, two plainclothes female officers stroll through, not hiding their handsets well.
As I chill with Puff Mama at day’s end, a female agent provocateur makes a buy attempt. Puff, weary but aware, replies, “We’ll pass one around and smoke you, girlfriend.”
The narc spills, “My boyfriend asked me to bring some back for him because he couldn’t make it. Can you sell me some?’ Puff replies, “We only sell hemp here.’
