Hash Bash Mash And Cash

Some 5,000 Crowd Diag For Spring Rite

The usual coalition of stoners, bikers, students and the just plain curious
gathered on the University of Michigan's Diag Saturday, giving new meaning
to the term "melting pot."

The Hash Bash, Ann Arbor's unofficial rite of spring, attracted some 5,000
participants, scores of vendors, a handful of arrests and a heady - if
remarkably smoke-free - vibe to the 29th annual event.

"If you came here to get high, this is probably the wrong place to be,"
said Aaron Smither, a University of Michigan graduate from Southfield, who
attended three Hash Bashes as a student during the 1980s and returned
Saturday to find things different than he remembers them.

"I think people come here to see what all the fuss is about, but everyone's
too scared to light up," he said.

Smither said he remembers a different scene during his student days.
Marijuana smoking wasn't overt back then, he said, but it was clearly more
prevalent than what he experienced Saturday.

"On the other hand, it looks like a lot of us took care of that before we
got here," he he said.

For another thing, he said, the event has become far more commercial than
it used to be, with vendors selling everything from hand-blown marijuana
pipes to T-shirts depicting Bugs Bunny at the Hash Bash.

"Bugs on Drugs," shouted one vendor, hawking the shirts.

Steven Grimes, who drove with friends from Indianapolis to sell marijuana
paraphernalia to Hash Bash participants, said he was disappointed to find
that he needed a city-issued permit to vend his goods. However, he said he
still was enjoying brisk sales of his wooden pot pipes and plastic
marijuana leis that countless revelers were spotted wearing around their necks.

While the underground economy enjoyed a steady trade, some legitimate
downtown businesses said the annual event is bad for business.

Jim Leonard, working the floor at his SKR Classical music store, said his
customers - hardly the Hash Bash Crowd - tend to stay away during the event.

"It's just an Ann Arbor thing," he said. "Like a football Saturday."

Officially, anyway, the Hash Bash remains true to its roots in that
organizers use their one hour of public-address time allotted them by U-M
officials to promote legalization of marijuana.

On Saturday, the focus was on collecting signatures to place the so-called
"Personal Responsibility Amendment" on the statewide ballot for November's
general election. The initiative would permit marijuana use in private homes.

"This is something we've asked for year after year after year - and now
we're tired of asking," said Greg Schmidt, the amendment's chief organizer.
"So instead of breaking the laws, we're out to change the laws."

Speakers - mostly from the pro-pot magazine "High Times" - heaped
good-natured verbal abuse on the police officers dotting the crowd Saturday
- - particularly when officers moved in to cut off the event's PA system, as
scheduled, at 1 p.m.

However, officials said the event - all things considered - went off with
few hitches.

"For the Hash Bash, it's pretty much been business as usual," said U-M
Department of Public Safety Lt. Gary Hill. "There were a lot of arrests for
marijuana and alcohol, but that's to be expected.

In all, he said, U-M officers made about 35 arrests - 25 for marijuana
possession and another 10 for open intoxicants.

Ann Arbor Police Sgt. Lyle Sartori said city police made a handful of
warrant arrests after traffic stops, but said managing traffic snarls was
the biggest Hash Bash-related problem.

By 1:30 p.m., most revelers had cleared out of the Diag - many heading to a
party outside of Casa Dominick's on Monroe Street, and others onto the
sidewalks of South State Street, which remained choked throughout the
afternoon.

While many in the crowd listened attentively to the dozen or so speakers
that filled the hour of speeches between "high" noon and 1 p.m., the
majority in the crowd appeared more interested in dancing along to the
rhythms of an impromptu drum circle, kicking foot bags or just hanging out
with friends.

Meanwhile, many residents took advantage of a pleasant spring day to walk
dogs and strollers through the glassy-eyed crowds.

"It's like some sort of blissed-out harmonic convergence," said Heather
Dykert, 27, of Royal Oak, who traveled to Ann Arbor with friends for her
first-ever Hash Bash. "We're all kindred spirits and we come together to
enjoy one another and enjoy the bounty that Mother Nature provides us."

And that's just fine with Hash Bash organizer Adam Brook - just as long as
the political message isn't lost on everyone.

"This is about changing people's attitudes," he said. "But it's also about
bringing people together to have a good time."