SHOW SUPPORT FOR VT. FARMERS: SMOKE A BOWL

We Vermonters are ferociously proud of the farms that dot our
landscape. We beam with pride when the late afternoon sun gleams off
the rounded top of a silo. We admire the grazing Holsteins backdropped
by mountain ridges and tip our caps to the work ethic of a farmer
mowing hay ahead of an approaching summer storm. We wave to Maw and
Paw Kettle standing out in their farmyard, Paw in his overalls
gripping a pitchfork, Maw in her gingham dress and apron, her hands
still dusted in flour from baking pies.

Yeah, right.

We're either living on another planet or we sorely need to update our
stereotypes to match reality.

Sure, dairying is still here. Hay is still the most valuable crop in
Vermont, worth an estimated $49 million last year.

If you buy into Jon Gettman's numbers -- and the guy has a Ph.D. --
our second most valuable cash crop is marijuana.

Gettman estimates that Vermont's ganja was worth $29 million this
year, ranking us 39th among the states. Considering that we're right
behind Nebraska and just ahead of Utah by Gettman's calculations, we
can extrapolate that our per-square-foot marijuana value is colossal.
Nebraska and Utah are, like, real states. Big ones.

Taking into account that Vermont State Police in 2003 boasted about
unearthing pot plants worth $4 million that year, you don't need
Gettman's doctorate to figure that a goodly amount of the nine tons he
calculates our growers harvested this year made its way to the free
market.

The support industry is flourishing, too, no more evident than during
a stroll through downtown Burlington, where water pipes appear to have
replaced pastels and watercolors as the Vermont artists' medium of
choice.

Gettman admittedly has a dog in this fight. He's a former president of
the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws, currently
a columnist for "High Times" magazine and the force behind the
Cannabis Rescheduling Petition, a group whose aim is to twist the
federal government's arm into regulating and permitting marijuana as
it does alcohol and tobacco in order to subject weed to taxation.

How realistic his statistics are is open to discussion because most
marijuana growers don't advertise in pick-your-own publications, nor
do they report their acreage to agricultural census takers or apply
for U.S. Department of Agriculture disaster relief funds when drought
ravages the crop or a new imported beetle chews its way through the
sticks and stems and sinsemillas.

When it comes to marijuana, though, you probably have to believe that
where there's smoke, there's fire.

So we need to rethink our stylized version of Vermont agriculture.
Maybe Maw and Paw need to be replaced by Dude and his partner,
Earthfire, who are up to their keisters in debt for hydroponics
equipment and growing lights for the basement crop. They don't give
much of a hoot about the price for 100 pounds of milk -- they care
about the going rate for a single ounce of dope.

Dude and Earthfire and their brethren are doing a grand job, though,
by Jon Gettman's count. If he's correct, and they successfully
harvested 18,063 pounds of pot in Vermont this year, that's about 2.1
ounces for every man, woman and child in the state -- enough to stay
stoned until Town Meeting if used judiciously.

You non-farmers need to invest in munchies, open late-night
restaurants to feed the famished stoners, and giggle at the way the
light streams through the weed plantation just before fall harvest.

Maw and Paw need to get with the program if they want to be
cutting-edge Vermont farmers. Vermont ag isn't about lowing cattle
anymore. It's about spreading the camo sheet over the outdoor plants
when you hear an approaching helicopter.

Lose the rolling pin, Maw, and grab a bong. And don't forget to leave
a plate of brownies for the milk-truck driver.