Pubdate: Fri, 27 Apr 2012
Source: Covington Reporter (WA)
Copyright: 2012 Sound Publishing, Inc.
Contact: http://drugsense.org/url/BpVOFZ4G
Website: http://www.pnwlocalnews.com/south_king/cmv
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/5075
Author: Les Lemieux

HOW MEDICAL MARIJUANA CAN MAKE MEN CRY

I've always known that medical marijuana is an emotionally charged 
issue. But I never expected to see a grown man cry about it. And I 
certainly never thought I'd see two different men crying about it in 
the same week. But, last week, that is exactly what I saw.

It started on Wednesday morning. I was volunteering at a medical 
marijuana dispensary in the Seattle area when in walked a fairly 
nondescript, middle-aged man. The receptionist checked the man's 
paperwork, called his doctor's office and verified that he was a 
qualified patient. Then, she ushered the man into the private room 
where I handle the dispensation of the medication.

As soon as the patient was alone with me, he began to bitterly weep. 
Through his sobs, he told me he needed medication, but he had no 
money to buy any. I was immediately taken aback because, even in my 
line of volunteer work, I am unaccustomed to seeing grown men break 
down in near hysterics.

I composed myself as best I could, then I calmly informed my 
distressed patient that these sorts of dispensaries aren't allowed to 
"sell" marijuana to anyone. Instead, the medication is dispensed, to 
qualified patients such as himself, free of charge. However, because 
the medication is exorbitantly expensive for the dispensaries to 
procure, patients are expected to make a donation to the dispensary 
any time they come in to get their "free" marijuana. I finished by 
gently informing him that exceptions can be made and, as he continued 
to bawl, I discreetly excused myself and went to fetch the proprietor 
of the establishment.

Graciously, the shopkeeper took over for me. He handed me a magazine 
and told me to take a break in the lobby while he took care of my patient.

Still shaken up a bit, I sat there and nervously flipped through the 
pages of the magazine, not really paying much attention to the copy 
because I was quite distracted by the muffled sounds of abject misery 
coming from the back room. After a compassionately brief moment, the 
door to the back room flew open and out walked the nondescript 
patient followed by the shopkeeper.

The patient strode past me on his way out and I tactfully averted my 
eyes from him because he was still a mess. He thanked us all 
profusely, so I can only assume the proprietor sorted him out. He was 
still crying as he left the dispensary, but not quite so bitterly 
anymore. Now it was just sort of pathetic.

I was feeling all gooey and sympathetic inside when the shopkeeper 
nodded at the magazine in my lap and asked, "What do you think about that?"

I looked down and really focused for the first time on the glossy, 
full-page advertisement I'd only been pretending to read up to that point.

"What do I think about what?" I asked. It was just an ad announcing 
the grand opening of yet another medical marijuana dispensary. 
There's nothing so strange about that. These days, dispensaries seem 
to be cropping up everywhere just like, well, weeds. The ad also 
proclaimed the new dispensary would be opening in two days, on April 20.

That information also seemed somehow par for the course.

"That place is opening up in Maple Valley," said the shopkeeper. 
"That's where you live, isn't it?"

It is and I do and I couldn't believe my eyes.

I checked the ad more closely and, sure enough, the listed address 
for the new shop was in Frontier Square, just three miles from my 
doorstep, in my beloved, cozy, little town of Maple Valley, Wash., USA.

"The people of Maple Valley don't know about this!" I said, feeling 
rather shocked.

"Why not?" asked the shopkeeper. "There's a full-page ad right there. 
Can't they read?"

"C'mon, man," I replied, feeling exasperated. "I mean, honestly, how 
many people in Maple Valley get Dope Magazine? We have a citywide 
moratorium on this sort of thing. How is this grand opening possible?"

I decided I had to investigate this new shop for myself. So, the next 
morning, I went to Frontier Square to snoop around. But, as it turned 
out, absolutely no snooping was necessary.

Because, when I arrived in Frontier Square all bright-eyed and 
bushy-tailed on Thursday morning, I was given a grand tour of the new 
dispensary by a couple of very friendly and professional volunteers.

The shop is called Green Society Group, or GSG. Inside, the setup and 
decor of the place can only be described as tastefully done. The 
laminate flooring is new and immaculate. The countertops are all 
marble. The lighting fixtures are trendy and attractive. The walls 
are freshly trimmed, painted and hung with original works of fine art 
by Maple Valley's own, finger painting superstar, Iris Scott.

Volunteers Sam Libbey and Kalo Patterson were kind enough to grant me 
total access to every part of the facility, including the "nerve 
center," which is the heavily secured room wherein stands an enormous 
safe and where images from the shop's considerable array of security 
cameras can be viewed on a gigantic, wall mounted, plasma screen monitor.

As a volunteer myself, I've done a lot of work in a lot of 
dispensaries but I've never seen one that looks as good as this one. 
Of course, one thing I didn't see anywhere on the premises that 
morning, was any marijuana of any kind.

I had a lot of questions for Sam and Kalo. But, all of my questions 
were above their pay grade because they are volunteers and their pay 
grade is zero. So, the two gentlemen gave me the business card of 
Chris Schoonover, President of Green Society Group. And home I went, 
desperately wondering, among other things, how on earth GSG could 
open their doors on Friday and dispense medical marijuana in flagrant 
violation of Maple Valley's moratorium.

I called Chris Schoonover right away and he invited me to visit him 
at the grand opening of GSG the following day.

Of course, Friday morning, I was there. So were the local press, the 
cops and the city building inspectors, not to mention Chris 
Schoonover, Sam Libbey, Kalo Patterson, a slew of other volunteers 
and all of the volunteers' moms. GSG, it seems, is quite the family 
affair. Also, a phalanx of patients were coming and going all day long.

Ah, but here is the rub: the patients were coming in curious and 
going out with empty bottles. That's right, empty, as in, not filled 
with any marijuana of any kind.

I was able to sit in on Chris Schoonover's interview with the press. 
On advice from his attorney, Jay Berneburg, Chris wasn't able to 
answer many of the burning questions about his organization just 
then. Nor was he able to display or dispense any of the "wide variety 
of medically tested Sativas, Indicas and Hybrids" his ad had 
promised. That's why, as a political statement, patients were being 
given empty bottles with no medicine in them.

Chris made it clear that answers to legal questions would have to 
wait until after his attorney, Mr. Berneburg, has a chance to hash 
things out (pardon the pun) with Maple Valley officials. That meeting 
occurred Monday, April 23.

GSG might have to wait much longer than that before their 
dispensation of medical marijuana can begin.

During his interview, Chris was pressed to answer why he feels so 
passionately about medical marijuana that he is willing to test Maple 
Valley's moratorium. He answered by talking about his own loved ones 
that had wasted away with cancer and without access to medicine that 
could have eased their suffering as they passed. At this point, Chris 
Schoonover broke down in tears and the interview had to pause for a 
few, awkward moments.

And that was the second grown man I'd seen crying about medical 
marijuana in the same, three-day stretch.

As I drove the three miles home that day, I thought of my weeping 
patient and the crying President of GSG. My mind was filled with far 
more questions than answers.

But, the most burning question I have is for the Maple Valley City 
Council. And that question is this: If grown men are literally crying 
out for this medicine, and other grown men are literally crying out 
to be able to dispense this medicine, can't the city of Maple Valley 
find a path right now to allow dispensaries that are safe, secure and 
tastefully done?

If I had the prescience to answer to that question, I'd figure out a 
way to put that in a bottle and sell it.

Or, maybe I'd give it away free, for a small donation, of course.
- ---
MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom