Joint effort

By Elizabeth Dinan
Friday, September 20, 2002

Steve Epstein is hosting a pot party for 50,000 people. To pull it off he'll need Martha Stewart's savoir faire and Norman Schwartzkopf's strategizing. And maybe some bail money.

The theme of this 13th annual affair is marijuana, the party favors are pot-related and the conversation is ganja-centric. By noon the hired musicians are on hand, while unfashionably prompt guests have arrived And security is tight.

Tight enough to qualify as a buzz kill, because despite the fact that Epstein's Sept. 14 party (the Annual Boston Freedom Rally calling for the legalization of marijuana) is a celebration of pot, it's probably the last place you'd want to spark one up. Cops are everywhere. So too is Epstein, a lawyer with a practice in Marblehead and a home in Georgetown, who's working the crowd while answering endless cell phone calls. He's also granting interviews in a backstage press tent with the mainstream media, as well as long-haired and long-in-the-tooth scribes from fringe publications, including High Times. Meanwhile, he's rallying a small army of foot soldiers in his crusade to legalize marijuana, suggesting by wireless technology that they check for a pirate vendor over here, or sniff for potential trouble over there.

"Billy Bones" is one such soldier, a 38-year-old Salem tradesman who traded his recurring booze buzzes for pot highs when he went sober 15 years ago. Sanctioned by Mass Cann, Epstein's state-wide pro-pot organization, Bones is assigned to patrol for people selling pot-related merchandise without having paid a fee for a reserved spot in a heavily trafficked vendor area, serving as a combination flea market-head shop. Complete with the obligatory petroulli fog hanging over make-shift aisles.

"The cops are here and if you break the law, their job is to arrest you," says a speaker dressed as Uncle Sam - if Uncle Sam were a pothead. "So hide well."

Kay Pirrello loves that kind of talk. The Salem resident and business manager for Libertarian candidates Carla Howell (governor) and Michael Cloud (senate) is trying to collect votes at Epstein's stash bash. And with both of her candidates promising "amnesty in the drug war," she's working an atypically responsive crowd.

A crowd looking to take the penalties and politics out of pot possession. And with Epstein leading the charge, while making slow but measurable progress.

Pot connections

The start time for the annual Freedom Rally has been advertised as high noon - with the emphasis and wink on "high." By this time Steve Epstein has already been on Boston Common for five hours, orchestrating the ganja gala with more seriousness than one might expect.

He's now worried that the pathways between vendor booths are too narrow, due to construction no one warned him about. It doesn't seem like a big deal at the moment, but within a few hours, swarms of neo-hippies and other pot aficionados will clog the cramped walkways trying to get a gander at a gumbo of ganja goods.

"I'll show you the layout," Epstein tells a neophyte. "There are different scenes here."

Walking across the historical Common, he stops to ask groups of mostly teens where they're from. Seeing him as an oldster, they're mostly mum. Until, that is, he introduces himself as the guy who started the hemp fest 13 years ago. The introduction elevates his status quickly from geezer to dude.

Esptein stands in front of a landmark statue, predicting that by 4 p.m. this area will be home to a drumming circle where hundreds of pro-pot people will congregate off the beaten path of the vendor and stage areas. He points out what's known as the "mayor's path" and says that by 4 p.m., "there'll be a stream of people like they're going to a Red Sox game."

It happens hours sooner. The drummers have arrived by 2, when the city's transportation department has already added additional subways to carry the crowds. And most of the day's 52 arrests for marijuana possession will come from this fringe fest.

Back at the vendor area, pseudo joints labeled "herbal cigarettes" are for sale - $2 for a big blunt and $1 for a little pinner. A dread-head stoner hands out flyers for a pair of upcoming pot festivals in New York, while a tie-dyed hawker distributes sheets advertising a three-credit Northeastern University class taught by a Dr. Keith Saunders and entitled: "Marijuana in the United States."

"If marijuana is illegal, why is it so popular?" ponders the university flyer. "If marijuana is so popular, why is it illegal?"

A woman whose only clothing above the waist is a pair of High Times stickers barely covering her nipples is plugging a new Lawrence-based cable television show called Gay-TV. Behind her, a man at a "Jews for Jesus" booth is largely ignored, while a panhandler in a T-shirt mimicking the UPS logo as representing "United Pot Smokers" pretends he's blind and collects a lot of currency hand-outs.

Bubbles are blown, Frisbees are tossed and Hacky Sacks are kicked.

A hemp fashion show and hemp clothing for sale once again prove that if herb advocates really want mainstream America to believe hemp is a viable fashion option, they need the likes of Ralph Lauren or Calvin Klein on board for some major frump removal. Meanwhile, John Dvorak from Melrose is handing out business cards proclaiming himself a "hempologist" and advertising his Hemp History Library and Museum.

Providing the soundtrack are musical acts including Bonescrew, Duncan Wilder Johnson, Joint Chiefs and the Felix Brown Band. And no, we never heard of them either. But we can report that none of them were heard singing about hanging around the shanty and getting a good buzz on.

Off to the side of the Common, Billy Bones is jazzed about his role at the Freedom Rally. Or maybe something else has him jazzed. Something which gives him distinctively skunky breath.

"I've got my all-access pass and I'm ready to go," says the Salem resident, who by the time the event ends at 6 has flushed out five renegade vendors hoping to cash in on the event without paying for the privilege. Two were selling T-shirts with pro-pot messages, another pair were hawking hemp necklaces and a fifth was peddling pipes.

It's not fair to the vendors who did pay to rent space for the event, he says, and it takes money from the cause. And Bones is big on the cause. Since getting sober 15 years ago and undergoing chemotherapy for cancer 13 years ago, he's found pot to be his buzz of choice, as well as an effective appetite enhancer when he needed it most. Compared to the effects of alcohol, he finds pot to provide a mellow and peaceful buzz which he feels strongly should be legal.

"I'm not out of control. I do it responsibly," he says of his penchant for toking. "I do it in the privacy of my own home and I have to take a stand on that. I wish other people would."

Back at the media tent, Epstein points to a suit chewing the ear of a uniformed Boston police officer.

"See that red-faced man in the plain clothes over there?" he asks, identifying him as in charge of the Boston police presence. "We don't pay for them, but we do pay for the park rangers, who do not bear arms, but are authorized to make arrests. A Freedom of Information (Act) Request to the Boston Police will generate the payroll in about two weeks.

"Same as it did in 2000, when Epstein's FOIA query showed the city of Boston shelled out $50,000 for police to patrol his Freedom Rally. And they always make arrests, the very reason people don't, as Bones says, take a stand.

Still, Epstein can effectively spin 52 drug busts from last Saturday's pot pageant into a positive. For every person under the age of 18 arrested for pot possession, he expects at least as many parents to become converts to his proposed pot legalization legislation.

Constitutional cannabis?

Steve Epstein boasts support from two-thirds of voters who were given the opportunity to decide if possession of an ounce or less of marijuana should be treated as a civil infraction, punishable by a maximum $100 fine and with no subsequent criminal record. That support came during the 2000 election from 18 cities and towns, many on the North Shore, and included language that would punish minors in possession of pot with nothing more than a phone call from police to their parents.

Exactly where Epstein figures the parental support for his ongoing cause will originate.

Following up, that same ballot question and three others will appear on the November ballot around the state, while Epstein predicts similar support, even though his data shows it's harder to get a yes vote than a no.

"Change the status quo, Alice? Not a chance," he mimics the populace. "The DAs don't like it and some of the judges don't like it. And it doesn't end the arrests. But all of our legislation is alive, so we're winning."

One ballot question will instruct state reps from the Worcester area to endorse medical marijuana, while voters in the Merrimack Valley will be asked to endorse the civil-penalty-only question. Out in western Massachusetts, the faces of American Gothic could change drastically if voters approve a question which would instruct their state reps to vote in favor of legislation allowing licensed farmers to grow certain cannabis crops.

In all, 47 new cities and towns will be voting on pot law in 20 districts, nine of which are in Boston. But citing Chapter 277, section 70C, Epstein says DAs can already treat pot busts as a civil matter, though they rarely do.

And a budget rider, by all accounts hidden deep in the state budget and again calling for pot possession and other minor infractions to be treated civilly, was vetoed by acting Gov. Jane Swift as Epstein's pot party was in full bloom Saturday. Supporters of the rider include House Ways and Means Chairman John Rogers of Norwood, who predicts that kind of legislation would save the state about $1 million a year in public defender costs alone.

The Libertarians are also allowing pro-pot voters the opportunity to change the law. Registering voters, conducting mini-political bent tests and espousing the word of Libertarian candidates, Salem's Kay Pirrello finds the Freedom Rally to be an ideal venue for her party's line. And her silver Statue of Liberty earrings.

"It's a great way to get out the message," she says, advocating for candidates Carla Howell for governor and Michael Cloud for senate. "They're both in favor of ending the war on drugs. We don't think the government should decide what adults put in their bodies. Right now, 1 million people are in jail for marijuana possession. These are peaceful people."

Pirrello distributes Libertarian literature at the Freedom Rally, seemingly tailored for the event. Howell's promises that if by some freak of fate she's elected governor, she'll "do everything within my power to pardon and commute the sentences of prisoners serving time for peaceful marijuana use." Cloud's says he'll call for medical marijuana, fight asset forfeiture of convicted pot users and end the arrests of marijuana users.

"Personal responsibility sets us free," his flyer reads. "I am the only U.S. Senate candidate who is a voice for amnesty in the drug war. I am the voice for a drug peace."

As a Libertarian himself, Epstein says his politics prohibit him from taking money from the government, which is why he's never worked as a public defender. But his active work to decriminalize and/or legalize marijuana begs the question if he'd essentially be putting himself out of business. He is known for defending drug users.

"I don't do criminal law exclusively," he says over loud head-banging music at his pot rally. "And the search and seizure laws (would) remain."

So he figures there's plenty of work, even if pot laws do go up in smoke. Meanwhile, a young man walks through the Boston Common selling Hawaiian-style leis made of pot-like leaves, someone is selling a book entitled "Get Stoned and Read This Book" and a pirate vendor is selling cans of cake frosting from a shopping cart.