San Bernardino, Oakland And Pot’s Dystopia
San Bernardino and Detroit are the peanut butter and jelly, the Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin, the Gog and Magog of dysfunctional cities.
The comparison to the apocalyptic metropolises of Old Testament lore is apt. San Bernardino is the second poorest city in the United States, after Detroit. Both cities are insolvent and mired in debt, though Detroit has found a way to unload some of its multibillion-dollar pension obligations, assuming a federal bankruptcy judge approves. Both cities struggle with violent crime. Basic public services are stretched thin. The only things Detroit and San Bernardino have in abundance are violent crime, poverty and despair.
Lately, though, I've come to think of San Bernardino less as Detroit's sister city and more as Oakland South. Sure, San Bernardino may lack a lovely waterfront, or the gentrified, fortress-like apartment buildings surrounding the newly upscale square named for the socialist Jack London. But there's a certain similarity of sights, sounds – and smell.
Walking around Oakland during the day, it's easy to see the signs of dissolution and decay: the boarded up storefronts, the ubiquitous graffiti on walls, buildings, even city signage and light poles. Sound familiar?
But there's something else – a telltale odor of burning sweet leaf. Then one notices the outwardly able-bodied young men hanging out in doorways and on street corners, puffing away without a care in the world. It's all “medicinal,” of course. Most appear to be disabled by the stress of actually living in Oakland.
For a good sense of what the de facto legalization of pot looks like in a down and out city, you needn't travel all the way to the East Bay. Just take a drive down the San Ber'dino freeway, where they got some dark green air and you can toke all day.
Upwards of 30 medical marijuana dispensaries operate illegally in San Bernardino. They do business in bland, nondescript storefronts, with landlords who keep a hand out and turn a blind eye. The city has struggled to clamp down on illegal operators for years, without much success.
A few months ago, City Attorney Gary Saenz acknowledged the “futility” of a city crackdown on dispensaries, and proposed studying ways to allow a handful of legal operations. But the city council reversed course on Oct. 6, opting instead for even more aggressive enforcement.
It's ironic, then, that even as city officials escalate their war on medical marijuana businesses, the erstwhile “City on the Move” has become Southern California's go-to place for medical marijuana-friendly events. The National Orange Show Events Center in particular has quickly developed a reputation as the best place for a “cannabis-themed event.”
Hempcon, billed as “an educational event with a full weekend of seminars and presentations by industry leaders, advocates, and attorneys,” drew over 200 vendors and thousands of attendees to the Orange show Oct. 17-19. Another event, the “Seed-to-Smoke Tour,” drew similar crowds in April.
It's big business in a city struggling to rebuild an economic base and scrounging for new revenue. Hotels and motels fill up when the shows come to town. Restaurants and service stations get a nice boost, too.
But is big business good business? Is a revenue bump worth the other costs?
It's no secret that “medical” marijuana is really legalization with a nod and a wink. My libertarian friends argue that legalization is all about personal choice and freedom from coercion. They paint a narrow picture of fine, upstanding citizens enjoying a joint like they would a glass of wine. And they point out that our prisons are filled with too many nonviolent drug offenders. I'm sympathetic.
But they are too dismissive of the larger picture.
Oakland and San Bernardino are the dystopian counterpoints to the libertarian ideal – the latter-day Gin Lane to the joyful Beer Street. Those young men smoking in the storefronts and on the street corners aren't “sick.” They are the products of a sickened republic; of generational poverty; of a corrupt and failed public education system; of fatherless homes and a pitiless welfare state.
Yes, individual freedom implies a freedom to fail. But a free and self-governing people cannot last long as a nation of lotus-eaters. If the tide of public opinion is truly shifting toward legalization, let legalization's advocates candidly acknowledge the real costs as well as the supposed benefits.
This piece originally appeared in Riverside Press Enterprise
This piece originally appeared in Riverside Press Enterprise