Pubdate: Thu, 03 May 2007
Source: Santa Barbara Independent, The (CA)
Copyright: 2007 The Santa Barbara Independent, Inc.
Contact:  http://www.independent.com
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/4348
Author: Ethan Stewart
Cited: Measure P http://www.drugsense.org/caip#sbarbara
Cited: Americans for Safe Access http://www.americansforsafeaccess.org
Cited: Jon Gettman's report 
http://www.drugscience.org/Archive/bcr2/bcr2_index.html
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/topics/Proposition+215
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/topics/SB+420
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/mmj.htm (Marijuana - Medicinal)

THE MEDICAL MARIJUANA MOVEMENT GROWS IN SANTA BARBARA

Emerald Dreams and Smoky Realities

In a small two-bedroom home, nestled anonymously on the upper 
Westside of Santa Barbara, the lights are humming right now. Vaguely 
Victorian in style with a white picket fence and a well-manicured 
front lawn, the home does little to betray the blooming emerald 
harvest growing inside its walls. A woman walking her dog passes by 
the driveway, urging her four-legged friend to "do your business," 
never giving a second thought to the perpetually drawn window shades 
of the back room, the constantly spinning electricity meter humming 
in the side yard, or the sweet odor of fresh ganja blowing in the breeze.

On the inside, behind a series of remarkably unlocked doors, several 
dozen marijuana plants grow under the warm white glow of two 
high-wattage light bulbs. The room is tropical and welcoming, a 
meticulously built and cared for growing space complete with COv(2) 
generators, fans, high-tech venting, massive air filters, digital 
ballasts, and an atmospheric control panel that not only governs the 
humidity but also powers an iPod to play smooth jazz when the lights 
are off. In a matter of days, this secret garden will yield at least 
four pounds of high-grade medicinal cannabis known as "purple 
kush"--every gram of it, at least in the eyes of our town's law 
enforcement, completely legal while simultaneously being, in the 
esteem of the federal government, unfailingly illegal.

Even with its state legality proven by a wall full of photocopied 
doctors' recommendations and a notebook filled with legal documents 
naming the tenant of the house as the "primary caregiver" for several 
medical marijuana patients, standing in the grow room feels 
undeniably like an illegal act. After all, we live in a country 
that's been culturally conditioned to view cannabis as criminal since 
the drug was banned in 1937. Sensing my discomfort, my host patted me 
on the back. "I know it takes some getting used to, but try and 
relax, man. It's medicine," he smiles, "no different than going to a 
Tylenol factory."

Unlike Tylenol, of course, you can't just pick up your daily 
marijuana dose at Rite Aid or Vons--though, as of late, it has become 
just about that easy for people with a doctor's recommendation. To 
that end, after this herb has been dried and properly manicured, it 
will be delivered to one of at least 10 medical marijuana 
dispensaries within Santa Barbara city limits where it will fetch up 
to $20 a gram from patients looking for the purple kush's trademark 
high, now famous for its pain-killing powers. And, just like Tylenol 
or any prescription medicine, chances are the kush will come in a 
traditional pill bottle complete with warning labels and instructions.

Welcome to the 2007 version of reefer madness, where in Santa 
Barbara, there are more marijuana markets than Starbucks and 
thousands of citizens, with their doctor's approval, are legally 
lighting up every day. But with business booming in this 
multimillion-dollar cottage industry, law enforcement agencies are 
left scratching their heads at how to navigate the unprecedentedly 
ambiguous legal haze blurring the lines of what's cool and what's 
criminal. What's most cool, though, is that regulations appear to be 
on the way, and, surprisingly, they're not coming from the 
government: Santa Barbara's marijuana industry is starting to 
self-regulate, and for everyone--from growers and sellers, to 
patients and police--that should be good news.

A Hazy History

It's been 11 years since California voters bucked a six-decades-old 
federal prohibition on marijuana and approved Proposition 215, 
effectively making it legal for adults who have a doctor's permission 
to grow and use cannabis for medical purposes. Though critics feared 
such a vote would open the floodgates for criminal chaos, the result 
has been quite the contrary. At first, only a few outposts quietly 
opened their doors to dispense the forbidden herb to AIDS patients, 
cancer victims, and assorted others. Like a group unsure if the lake 
had frozen enough to walk across, these strong-willed activists 
treaded lightly, spoke in whispers, and prepared for the worst.

Things took a turn in 2004 with the passage of California Senate Bill 
420, which gave slightly more specific protections for patients, 
distributors, and doctors who recommend cannabis. That nod from the 
state legislature allowed cannabis clubs and marijuana-smoking (and 
- -eating) patients to step out of the shadows and onto the ice. From 
Eureka to San Diego, literally hundreds of clubs opened and tens of 
thousands of Californians got their doctor's permission to toke. 
Nearly one dozen other states ratified similar laws, including 
Oregon, Colorado, Arizona, Maine, Montana, and, just last month, New Mexico.

Here on the South Coast, only two dispensaries walked on the thin ice 
of the pre-2004 era. In nondescript storefronts, operating almost 
anonymously behind locked doors and thick security glass, the 
Compassion Center and Santa Barbara Patients' Group survived 
robberies, public scorn, skeptical landlords, and the ever-present 
threat of a federal raid. The guarded hush-hush behavior continued 
without incident for years until about two years ago, when Santa 
Barbara's medical marijuana dispensaries grew exponentially almost 
overnight. That proliferation was further supported last November, 
when an overwhelming majority of Santa Barbara voters passed Measure 
P, making adult use of marijuana--both medical and non-medical--the 
lowest law enforcement priority. Today, there are 10 fully 
functioning dispensaries within city limits, plus a couple more in 
the planning stages (including the first one ever in Goleta due next 
month). For a relatively small town, the amount impresses everyone in 
the trade.

While certainly aware of them, spokespeople from every local law 
enforcement agency admitted to some sticker shock when informed of 
the recent rise in clubs. Most were not aware the number had grown 
past the initial two, let alone increased five-fold in less than 20 
months. As S.B. County District Attorney Christie Stanley remarked 
upon hearing the news, "You're kidding me? Wow, that's something I 
didn't know."

In fact, not knowing is exactly the problem for everyone involved, 
due to the murky nature of medical marijuana's legality. Because 
Senate Bill 420 is in direct opposition to federal law, Sacramento 
was reluctant to fill it with the teeth of regulations and bite of 
enforcement they would normally assign to such landmark legislation. 
As a result, the system is devoid of checks and balances and even 
lacks a unilateral understanding of what the law means. For example, 
in Santa Barbara, the only hurdle a would-be dispensary needs to 
clear in order to open is the simple act of securing a business 
license from the city. There are absolutely no other obstacles in the 
way, which, for a federally illegal drug, tends to raise some eyebrows.

"It's such a grey area," Santa Barbara police spokesperson Paul 
McCaffrey said recently. "Basically [with the right paperwork], you 
can get a bunch of marijuana--or start growing it--and then sell it 
as medical marijuana. As appalling as it seems, you are essentially 
untouchable to us. ... It's not just a reality, but also state law."

The Santa Barbara County Sheriff's Department takes a slightly more 
aggressive stance and, as a result, only one dispensary currently 
exists in its contracted communities--though at least two other clubs 
are looking to open soon in the North County. Spokesperson Erik Raney 
explained last month, "It is very frustrating from the law 
enforcement side because we are forced to decipher the law and the 
law itself is not very clear at all." Though deputies regularly let 
people go who can prove they are "legal" cannabis consumers, Raney 
guaranteed "debatable" infractions were always investigated and 
usually led to an initial arrest, though not always actual charges. 
District Attorney Stanley could recall only two instances of such 
prosecution in the past 11 years: one was a Buellton club that was 
shut in 2006 (but has since reopened) and the other was a woman who 
was growing "too much" medical marijuana (though she was allowed to 
keep the 70-plus plants for which she had proper paperwork).

Clearing the Smoke

Confused? You're not alone. "From a legal standpoint, it is an 
absolutely fascinating problem," said esteemed Santa Barbara attorney 
Joe Allen. "The unregulated nature of all this leaves everybody--the 
police, club owners, patients, and caregivers--very uncertain about 
what they are allowed to be doing." In recent years, Allen, who's 
held just about every legal title in his career except judge, has 
become a de facto expert on medical marijuana. Not only is he kept on 
retainer for several clubs, but he's also the legal advisor for the 
city's Measure P Committee and has successfully defended Goleta 
physician and outspoken medical cannabis advocate Dr. David Bearman, 
who was attacked by the Medical Board of California (MBC) for 
prescribing marijuana.

"The boundaries of protection are so fuzzy that it is very, very hard 
to even know when you are crossing those boundaries," explained 
Allen. "Can a thousand patients band together and start a cannabis 
plantation in Santa Ynez? Probably, but who knows? Unfortunately, 
because no real regulations exist, the only vehicle by which we work 
this out is: People get arrested and have to go to court." So would 
regulations or a dispensary review board help? "Absolutely," said 
Allen. "City or county standards would go a long way in clearing up 
many of these issues."

What is legal? According to Senate Bill 420, Californians with a 
doctor's approval can carry as much as a half-pound (eight ounces) of 
marijuana and grow as many as six mature plants. That's pretty 
clear-cut, but the situation hazes over with the role of 
"caregivers," those assigned by patients to grow and provide their 
medicine. When patients join a cannabis club, they sign paperwork 
that establishes the club as their caregiver, allowing the dispensary 
to grow and possess marijuana in their name. So a club with 1,000 
members could have as many as 500 pounds and grow 6,000 plants. But 
since there's no oversight whatsoever, the formula is ripe for 
exploitation and constantly flirts with criminal status.

Though assuring she would "never get in the way of compassionate 
use," the situation is disconcerting for District Attorney Stanley. 
"Crimes are being committed around it and people are just shrugging 
their shoulders," she said. "It certainly isn't the way we usually do 
business." She also added that, to her knowledge, nothing was being 
done by the government to clear the regulatory haze.

The irony in all this is that three months ago, somebody did start to 
do something--and it wasn't the DA, the cops, the county supervisors, 
or the City Council. It was the club owners themselves. And they've 
got good reason to regulate, for as one anonymous dispensary owner 
complained, "Right now, in this town, people are looking to exploit 
the law and take advantage of it. There's no doubt about it, and no 
doubt they will ruin it for the thousands of us who are doing things 
the right way."

Acting at the behest of medical marijuana lobbying group Americans 
for Safe Access (ASA), representatives from all but one of the S.B. 
clubs began meeting on a monthly basis in order to, as ASA organizer 
Chris Fusco put it, "get to know one another and to try to establish 
a standard of care for Santa Barbara." With moratoriums on 
dispensaries already in place in Carpinteria and Solvang, Fusco said 
it is "really just a matter of time" until Santa Barbara does the 
same. But while the Carp and Solvang moratoriums are what Fusco calls 
"wolves in sheep's clothing" since those towns have never had 
dispensaries, he thinks an S.B. moratorium would be temporary and 
allow the city to establish standards for clubs.

Heading off such a move at the pass, ASA is helping dispensaries to 
establish uniform ways of labeling medicine, verifying doctor's 
notes, and registering patients. "These may seem like really basic 
things," said Fusco, "but the reality is no one else is going through 
and making sure every club is doing them." The hope is this early 
intervention will make fringe clubs clean up their acts while 
simultaneously streamlining the regulatory process when the city and 
county decide to tackle it.

Fusco enthusiastically explained, "The end result in this, for 
everybody, is regulations and a higher standard of care." The club 
owners seem to be onboard, as one explained last month, "To be one of 
the people who helped set the regulations and the precedent for Santa 
Barbara? That would be a great honor."

In the meantime, it's business as usual seven days a week for the 
existing clubs, which have sprouted up everywhere, from Milpas and 
Haley streets to upper State Street. They run the full spectrum of 
incarnations: Some feel about one-degree removed from a De la Guerra 
Plaza drug deal while others provide laminated menus, 30-plus 
varieties of marijuana, dozens of hashes and hash oils, assorted 
THC-laced candies, cookies, and ice cream, and knowledgeable staffs 
who are able to recommend specific strains of cannabis for particular 
ailments. Some have security, others don't; some let you smoke on the 
property, others don't; and some are run as co-ops, while others seem 
to be enjoying the economic fruits of a successful business. While 
there's absolutely no way to count the county's medical marijuana 
patients, most clubs surveyed claim memberships well over 2,000, with 
some boasting more than 5,000 patients.

Despite these tallies, the county health department's voluntary 
medical marijuana identification card program--in place solely to 
protect patients from the police--only has 348 patients and 49 
caregivers enrolled. Attorney Joe Allen chalked up this discrepancy 
to patients' overriding fear they'll be placed on some list and left 
exposed to future federal prosecution. But Allen, perhaps our 
county's foremost legal expert on the matter, wholeheartedly 
recommends the county card because, as he explained, "It's all about 
being upfront and following what law there is. The card will only help."

Being Up Front

The doors are usually wide open at Hortipharm Caregivers, allowing 
passersby on the 3500 block of State Street a glimpse of its smart, 
remodeled interior complete with hardwood floors, a flat-screen TV, 
and a glass-backed waterfall. The dispensary--Santa Barbara's third 
club when it opened on Calle Laureles in 2005--just celebrated the 
first anniversary of its State Street location. Nestled among 
restaurants, a coffee shop, and a massage parlor, the building is 
both anonymous and inviting.

It's early afternoon, and three patients are in the waiting room 
while another four are in the "green room," inspecting various 
strains of cannabis. In a back office, flanked by a massive Executive 
Safe, the club's owner Josh Braun leaned back in his chair. "Most 
days when I come to work it feels like heaven," he explained, 
squinting through the smoke of a recently exhaled bong hit. "But 
other days are absolute hell."

At 30 years old, clean-cut with full sleeve of detailed tattoos on 
his left arm, and married with a kid and another on the way, Braun is 
the epitome of the emerging 21st-century Southern California 
businessman: gregarious, well-spoken, intelligent, and just the right 
amount of cocky. He's proud of the business he's built and he should 
be--in 2006, Hortipharm grossed more than $3 million, provided 
medicine to nearly 4,000 patients, and employed 14 people, all paid 
decent wages plus full benefits and vacation packages. "I have two 
priorities in life," explained Braun. "To provide food and shelter 
for my family and to provide care and medicine for my patients." 
Given his background, you can't help but believe him. The Santa 
Barbara native was raised in a devoutly Christian home, majored at 
UCSB in accounting and economics, and served in the Marine Corps.

But not all was peachy. Dually diagnosed with Attention Deficit 
Disorder (ADD) and anxiety, Braun spent years of his life on 
prescriptions of Adderall, Xanax, and Dexatrin. Admitting he was no 
saint in his youth, Braun believes his life seemed destined for 
something far darker than it is today were it not for the medicinal 
powers of cannabis. He explained, "My life is only here today because 
of marijuana."

Friends of his haven't been so lucky. Montecito native Paul 
Hindaling, who also suffered from ADD and anxiety, rode prescription 
pills to a tragic death via overdose in 2005. That death, coupled 
with the passing of Braun's father-in-law from prescription 
narcotics, cemented his faith in medical marijuana. After a trip to 
Amsterdam--the home of modern marijuana innovation--Braun saw the 
light and began learning about the myriad medicinal uses of cannabis 
throughout the millennia. He spoke at length about marijuana's 
healing role in just about every civilization since the dawn of 
humankind and how charred cannabis seeds can be found in many of the 
world's oldest archeological sites. From there, he switched gears to 
talk about technological innovations in cloning and how today's 
medicine is the most potent and powerful yet. "I may not have much 
formal training in healthcare," Braum claimed, "but I know more about 
marijuana than just about anybody walking this world."

But none of his well-supported beliefs change the fact that, as he 
admitted, "The feds could kick in my door at any time." If they did, 
Braun potentially could go to jail for the rest of his life. He 
grimaced when I asked him about the federal raids of cannabis clubs 
in West Hollywood earlier this year and the raid of a club in Morro 
Bay just two days before our interview. But he takes solace in the 
fact that no one involved with the 11 clubs in West Hollywood have 
been charged with a crime yet and that most of the clubs have since 
re-opened. As for the Morro Bay bust, Braun simply shook his head and 
said, "It makes me nauseous to think about it." (After learning the 
Morro Bay raid came after a security guard allegedly sold a 
half-pound to an undercover officer outside of the dispensary, Braun 
responded, "If it's true, then it's illegal. If someone worked for me 
and did that then--no questions asked--they'd be fired.")

If you look at a map of California, it doesn't take a genius to 
notice that Santa Barbara is smack dab between West Hollywood and 
Morro Bay, which begs the question: When might the feds come to our 
town? Word on the street is they already did a couple years ago, but 
were kindly told "thanks, but no thanks" by local authorities. Though 
they are under no legal onus to do so, the feds don't like doing 
busts where local law enforcement isn't supportive. Nonetheless, this 
stressful question made Braun begrudgingly admit, "I wish I could do 
this forever but I don't really see it happening that way."

As for the Santa Barbara authorities, Braun happily reported the 
sheriff, city police, narcotics detectives, and even Mayor Marty Blum 
have all been in his store. The visits don't bother him--in fact, he 
practically encourages them. "I'm not scared because I'm not doing 
anything illegal," he said. "I follow rules that don't even exist 
yet." He pays taxes, keeps extensive records, and fleshes out his 
books as any econ grad would. Furthermore, his team of lawyers--which 
includes Joe Allen--will even defend patients of Hortipharm should 
they run into trouble with the law, so long as they aren't exploiting 
their doctor's notes.

To Braun, the big issue facing everyone involved is regulation. Like 
the legal toddler it is, the movement needs direction and guidance. 
"We need to make the right choices," he explained. "And it would be 
really great if the city would regulate and help us with those choices."

A Matter of Medicine

Perhaps the most convoluted layer of ambiguity is the role doctors 
play in the medical marijuana equation. After all, without a written 
recommendation, none of this would be possible. And given the 
proliferation of clubs statewide, it's obvious more physicians are 
approving medical marijuana consumption for a broader spectrum of reasons.

That's "disturbing" to both District Attorney Stanley and Santa 
Barbara Sheriff's Department spokesperson Raney. To them, Prop 215 
was a last-ditch medical avenue designed for the most severely ill, 
such as cancer and AIDS patients. So when detectives report 
"perfectly healthy" young people frequenting dispensaries, they can't 
help but be wary. "It certainly calls into question the doctors who 
are prescribing," said Raney. "Clearly there are some arbitrary 
decisions being made and people who aren't terminally ill are getting 
prescriptions."

Of course, one needn't be terminally ill--or even visibly 
distressed--to legally smoke marijuana. Prop 215 gives physicians 
carte blanche to approve ganja consumption for "any illness for which 
cannabis provides relief." While the Food and Drug Administration 
still claims marijuana has no proven medicinal values--a stance often 
cited by law enforcement--extensive clinical trials in Europe and 
Canada (and, increasingly, California) have shown strong evidence of 
cannabis's ability to help people suffering from, among other things, 
lupus, insomnia, multiple sclerosis, Alzheimer's, ADD, anxiety, 
migraines, chronic pain, depression, hypertension, arthritis, and 
anxiety. And since the MBC set official standards in 2004 on medical 
marijuana recommendation writing that are "the same as any reasonable 
and prudent physician would follow when recommending or approving any 
other medication," doctors really are free--no matter what law 
enforcement thinks--to recommend marijuana exactly as they would 
prescribe painkillers or antibiotics. That leaves the medical 
marijuana movement squarely in the hands of the physicians. Braun of 
Hortipharm explained, "No matter what, the success of any legally 
operating dispensary is really at the discretion of the doctors."

Perhaps one of California's most outspoken advocates is Goleta 
physician Dr. Bearman. Bearman, who wrote his first medical marijuana 
recommendation in April 2000 but refuses to reveal just how many he 
has written, is one of just four South Coast doctors who actively 
write recommendations. "At least 50 other doctors in town 
specifically tell their patients to come to me if they feel [medical 
marijuana] is appropriate simply because [those doctors] aren't 
comfortable doing it themselves," Bearman explained. He scoffs at the 
idea of law enforcement questioning who deserves a cannabis 
recommendation. "How can they tell somebody doesn't have a 
significant medical problem just by looking at them?"

It's a rhetorical question that particularly burns Bearman: In 2003, 
the MBC came after Bearman for the alleged "indiscriminate" 
recommendation of medical marijuana to a patient. That attack was 
triggered by a Lake Piru park ranger, who arrested a young man with a 
Bearman recommendation. The ranger, feeling the recommendation was 
unethical, formally complained to the MBC. Both the patient and 
Bearman refused to cooperate, citing doctor-patient confidentiality, 
so the matter hit the courts. Three years later, the charges against 
Bearman were sternly dismissed by a Los Angeles Superior Court that 
said the MBC "failed to show good cause," a decision that medical 
marijuana supporters saw as a warning against similar witch hunts in 
the future. To date, the MBC has, with varied results, gone after 20 
cannabis-approving physicians since the 1996 inception of Prop 215.

His vindication aside, Bearman acknowledged ethical debates will 
continue to rage as long as regulations remain absent. There are 
plenty of situations--though not necessarily illegal--that make 
Bearman shake his head, such as the doctors who come to town, team up 
with a dispensary, and conduct one-day recommendation blitzes where 
dozens of patients get certified in a hotel room for about $150 a 
pop. Then there are places in Los Angeles and San Francisco where 
doctors cater specifically to marijuana-minded clientele. These 
places are often advertised in newspapers, function as walk-in 
clinics, and tend to be packed to the gills.

Bearman, whose practice is traditionally conservative by comparison, 
calls these practices "detrimental" to the cause, though he also 
agrees with his attorney Joe Allen, who said, "You can't legislate 
morality." Nonetheless, Bearman knows that until the MBC establishes 
different language about the standards of practice for medical 
marijuana, such obviously rogue operations will continue to thrive, 
living happily in the grey haze of ambiguity. "Everyone knows it; we 
need regulations," said Bearman, adding with a smile, "I would love 
to see the day when cannabis is available at Rite Aid."

Cashed Out

Billy Adams (not his real name) has been selling marijuana in Santa 
Barbara for more than a decade. But due to the proliferation of 
dispensaries, Adams is effectively out of business these days. 
Approaching 30 and with children, Adams has mixed feelings about 
medical marijuana even though he himself, for the past two years, has 
been growing exclusively for Santa Barbara clubs and all but phased 
out his black market dealings. As he sees it, "The whole legal thing 
is sort of bullshit. I mean, the feds can still put you in jail 
forever. Plus, the people I deal with are the same faces I was 
dealing with 12 years ago but now, because of Senate Bill 420, they 
are supposedly legit. I can totally see why cops are bummed." Despite 
that, Adams says that "without a doubt" it's harder for people to get 
their hands on marijuana these days because dealers like him have 
turned to the clubs. "It's just not out there as much as it used to 
be," he said. "Actually, it's still around--it's just going to the 
clubs instead of the streets."

While law enforcement doesn't share Adams's opinions--S.B. Sheriff's 
Department spokesperson Raney called marijuana "still just about the 
number-one illegal substance that people possess"--it does reveal 
that the success of medical marijuana isn't just a victory for the 
patients who need it. There are millions of dollars swirling around 
the cannabis plant.

In a study released last December by conservative public policy 
analyst Jon Gettman, the annual domestic marijuana harvest was 
estimated to be about $35.8 billion, making it hands-down the 
number-one cash crop in America. With around $13.8 billion of that 
believed to be grown on California soil, it's an industry that's 
rooted and fully blooming in the Golden State. However, most of this 
money goes untaxed and untracked at both the state and federal 
levels. While the feds just recently, despite their anti-medical 
marijuana position, created a tax bracket for the industry, it is 
safe to say the opportunity for income must be something the big-wig 
bean counters are looking into.

With this in mind, a longtime grower from Mendocino, who's been 
supplying marijuana to Santa Barbara and many other areas south of 
Point Conception since the 1960s, made an observation recently that 
perhaps sums up everything currently happening with medical 
marijuana: "Make no mistake: This is a golden age we are living in. 
One way or the other, the door will be slammed shut on this within 
five years. I guarantee it. I don't know if it will be federal 
regulation and taxing, total legalization, or a change back to how 
things used to be, but it's going to change. It has to." 
- ---
MAP posted-by: Richard Lake