Marvin Chavez Used Marijuana for Pain Relief and Ended Up in Prison. Now He Hopes to Set Up a New Medical Pot Group. I hadn't talked to Marvin Chavez since an Orange County jury convicted him in 1998 of selling marijuana. He was fuming about it then, and he's fuming now. Come to think of it, prison isn't really a place where people go to cheer up. Especially if you think you were convicted on bogus charges, as Chavez claims. Of course, I can't read his mind, can't know if he really was innocent or was just pulling some grand scam. [continues 813 words]
Even controversies that have the weight of a helium isotope -- such as the one I'm about to launch into -- sometimes deserve airing. It's important to know what issues disturb the souls of our fellow citizens. And, in those cases, to figure out what the rest of us can do to help them find something else to complain about. The flap of the moment revolves around a scheduled appearance April 15-16 at the Newport Beach Central Library by author and Atlantic Monthly correspondent Eric Schlosser. He's scheduled to talk about his bestseller, "Fast Food Nation," described as chronicling everything you may or may not want to know about the fast-food industry that helped shape (my own pun) modern American culture. [continues 563 words]
It's not that I was joking about marijuana. I just said that Anaheim Angels broadcaster Rex Hudler shouldn't lose his job after being arrested for possessing it and admitting that he's been an occasional user over the years. In truth, though, I was a little glib. I wrote that pot-smoking and personal character weren't necessarily linked and that we should bust "real criminals" and not seemingly decent guys like Hudler. A number of readers didn't like my brand of charity. [continues 582 words]
Even as an ardent disciple of that little-known offshoot of schadenfreude, in which one enjoys the misfortunes of overexcited former ballplayers who get jobs as TV commentators and then shamelessly root for the home team on the air, I've got to go to bat for Rex Hudler. The Wonder Dog, the nickname of the kinetic 43-year-old pup who works the microphone for Angels' telecasts, is hanging by his leash these days after getting arrested a couple of weeks ago for marijuana possession in the Kansas City airport. [continues 580 words]
Hagen Place, a nondescript two-story apartment building on a corner of 3rd Street in Laguna Beach, would seem just what California voters had in mind when they passed the medical-marijuana initiative in 1996. Laguna Beach police may beg to differ. Named after a local doctor and gay activist who died of the complications of AIDS in 1991, Hagen Place has 24 apartments for people who are HIV-positive. Many people with HIV have said that marijuana helps relieve nausea they sometimes get from their medications. [continues 584 words]
Haven't all the words been written. Yes. Hasn't the river of tears flowed steadily from coast to coast for the last generation or so. Yes. Is there anything new to say about what can happen when a teenager relies on drugs for the big buzz but ends up dead instead. No. Knowing all that, I make no pretense of having anything to add about the death of 18-year-old Cathy Isford, the Foothill High School senior who fell into a coma on prom night last Saturday after taking Ecstasy, possibly in combination with other drugs. [continues 637 words]
At first, she was just goofin,' slouched in her chair and acting as if she didn't really want or need to be there. Too cool for the room. Others had spoken, had talked about their marijuana addiction, but 18-year-old Darlene [in keeping with the spirit of anonymity at the meeting, I'm using different first names for participants] didn't look like one to open up. She was at this meeting of Marijuana Anonymous as part of a court referral and looked for all the world like the most bored student who ever sat in a world history class. [continues 655 words]
I first developed a dislike for marijuana after being assigned as a young reporter to an all-night police stakeout at some dude's farmhouse in Colorado. The point is, I'm a guy who needs his sleep and being awake at 3 a.m. to watch the bust go down wasn't my idea of time well spent. But because people are most likely to be home then--and least likely to expect cops to come bursting through the front door--that's when it was done. [continues 610 words]
How did it happen? Was there a moment when a light went on? When did Orange County voters, long considered among California's most conservative, take a sharp left turn and sign on to the movement away from imprisoning drug offenders? Sorry, I can't give you a date, but the county's residents are definitely there. Conservatism, thy name is drug treatment. On election day last week, every city in Orange County gave a majority of its votes to Proposition 36, the measure that will divert nonviolent drug offenders to treatment programs rather than send them to jail or prison. The heaviest support came from Laguna Beach (72.6%), but even Yorba Linda at the other end of the spectrum supported it 55% to 45%. In Laguna Woods, the county's senior citizen enclave, two of every three voters supported it--trailing only Laguna Beach in support. [continues 563 words]
It was an evening at Crystal Cathedral, now more than seven years ago, that sticks in my mind. About 200 people showed up to hear a succession of speakers, including judges, say that the nation's drug-enforcement laws were counterproductive. Although the term made people leery, talk of "decriminalization" hung in the air like pot at a Grateful Dead concert. Then-Sheriff Brad Gates wasn't there, but he'd made his feelings known. He didn't want to hear that kind of talk. [continues 754 words]
On one day in the paper last week, we ran a nice feature story on Orange County teens involved in an anti-drug program run by the Sheriff's Department. Many who read it may have felt hopeful about the proverbial war on drugs. The next day, we ran a story on 20 Irvine High School students who'd been suspended for getting high the night of the prom. Five of the students were repeat offenders and will not be allowed to take part in graduation ceremonies. Most people probably read that story and felt dispirited about the war on drugs. [continues 630 words]
Last December, Tammy Waters dropped her husband, Orville, off at a drug-rehab center near downtown Los Angeles and returned to their home in Orange. She hasn't seen or heard from him since. Oh, her husband is alive and well. At least, Tammy Waters presumes he is. It's just that the center, known as Delancey Street, bans all contact between spouses--including phone calls, letters or personal visits--for more than a year. At this critical moment in her husband's life, Tammy Waters can't get close to him. As far as Delancey Street is concerned, she's a nonperson. [continues 709 words]
The cops and prosecutors got their man: Marvin Chavez is facing prison. To hear them tell it, a drug dealer has been taken off the streets. At moments like these, the rest of us are supposed to feel good because our law enforcement people have used their cunning and muscle to nail a criminal--especially one like Chavez, who, according to the prosecutor, ran "a very sophisticated marijuana-selling business." Or did he? I'd be surprised if the jurors who convicted him Thursday, the police, the judge, or even the prosecutors--really believe that. [continues 853 words]
What happened to Brandon Guresky the night the cops pulled him over in Dana Point isn't the kind of story that makes the newspapers. Who cares if an innocent man spends 12 hours in jail? For those who think that's no big deal, it's probably because they've never had to do it. It would seem to follow, then, that cops who deprive an innocent person of freedom have committed a serious breach of trust. If so, why is this black-and-white picture turning to gray? About 12:30 a.m. on July 12, Guresky was driving on Golden Lantern when an Orange County sheriff's deputy pulled him over for driving with the parking lights on. Guresky, who lives in North Hollywood, explained he had been at a wedding and was driving his girlfriend's car, which was unfamiliar to him. While the deputy talked to him, Guresky seemed extremely nervous, with dilated pupils and profuse sweating, according to the deputy's report. [continues 901 words]
