Pubdate: Wed, 19 Jul 2000
Source: Willamette Week (OR)
Contact:  822 SW 10th Ave., Portland, OR 97205
Fax: (503) 243-1115
Website: http://www.wweek.com/
Author: Patty Wentz,  MAP's shortcut to Conde articles is http://www.mapinc.org/conde.htm

CONFUSION RAINS ON HEMP FEST

There is probably still a bewildered but mellow straggle of hippies waiting 
in a Harrisburg hayfield to get in to World Hemp Fest 2000, even though the 
party ended three days ago. At the main entrance, sunburned, dreadlocked, 
multi-pierced hemp enthusiasts Saturday tried desperately to score 
tickets--and those were the staffers manning the gate as the cars lined up 
in front of them. No one knew if enough tickets had been printed, if they 
were stolen and sold on the black market, or if someone had lost them.

Inside, on the main stage, an impassioned pot activist extolled the 
benefits of hemp as a medicine, a plant and a lifestyle choice. "Overgrow 
the government!" he exhorted in a raspy voice.

Right. The same people who can't figure out how to run their own festival 
should be in charge of the biggest superpower in the world.

In marked contrast to the Oregon Country Fair, held the weekend before, 
Hemp Fest 2000 hardly lived up to its billing as a warm, fuzzy family 
event. In fact, the vibe was just plain depressing--a $15 flea market for 
hemp tinctures, bong cozies and pro-drug bumper stickers. The majority of 
the attendees seemed to be either burned-out hippies who have embraced hemp 
as a religion or pungent teenagers spending the summer on the road.

But what do I know? I'm an indifferent consumer and an even less 
enthusiastic pot smoker. As far as I could tell, the Hemp Fest was a way 
for ringmaster Bill Conde--who owns a redwood lumber business and a concert 
venue called High-5--to finance a grass hut in Belize, where he hopes to 
head after this fifth and final festival.

Conde's selling out, but he told reporters it has nothing to do with the 
fact that he's been charged with aiding and abetting drug 
transactions--charges that stem from a prior festival. I never got a chance 
to talk with him, even after waiting outside his trailer for half an hour. 
Every time I knocked on the door, one of his posse blocked the entrance, 
saying he'd be out soon. Behind them, I could see Conde sitting at the 
table, counting out wads of cash.

It was beautiful, man.
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MAP posted-by: Jo-D