WHAT IF POT WERE LEGAL?

Fast-forward 20 years.

The fondest dream of Seattle Hempfesters has come true: Pot is legal.

But what of the iconic "protestival," with its swirl of tie-dye,
aroma of patchouli and counterculture chic?

It could well morph into the kind of mainstream affair many of
today's adherents abhor, concedes the man who launched the
legalization movement nationwide more than 35 years ago.

If people are able to buy weed like liquor and beer, it will probably
come with the same kind of corporate trappings, said Keith Stroup,
founder of the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws.

"I would love to see only nonprofit cooperatives ... or little
produce stands," he said Saturday at Hempfest 2006. "But the truth is
somebody is going to make a lot of money off of marijuana."

The crush in Seattle's waterfront Myrtle Edwards Park on Saturday
testified to the potential market. Organizers expect 150,000 people
for the 15th annual event, which continues today and is the largest
of its kind in the United States.

The smell of marijuana wafted through the air, though most of the
smokers gravitated to the margins of the crowd or gathered on rocks
and logs on the beach. One group of six sharing a pipe gave their
ages as 15 to 17, but declined to share their names.

"My parents don't know I'm here," said one boy, wearing a
rainbow-colored, crocheted cap pulled over blond dreadlocks.

In a world where the legal fight over marijuana has been settled,
Hempfest spokesman Dominic Holden envisions a festival that would be
more celebratory than activist. Like an Oktoberfest beer bash or a
wine-tasting gala, participants could partake of different vintages
and varieties of pot -- probably in the kind of roped-off beer
gardens common at concerts.

"Marijuana has an array of aromas and flavors, like fine tobacco," he said.

Former Seattle restaurateur Kanti Selig, selling brownies and cookies
made with hemp seeds -- sorry, no THC, pot's active ingredient --
sees only good things if the drug becomes more widely available.

"It would make everyone less fearful," she said, pulling the lid off
a 4-quart container to display the cocoa-brown hemp powder she uses
in baking. Hemp -- marijuana without the hallucinogenic effect -- is
grown for food and fiber. It can be imported, but cultivation is
restricted in the United States.

If the high-protein plant were more widely available, the price would
drop -- seeds currently cost $12 to $13 a pound -- and products like
hemp milk, hemp cheese and hemp flour would be easier to get, she said.

But a man who called himself Cloud, an organizer of Emerald Empire
Hempfest in Eugene, Ore., worries that mom-and-pop artisans would get
squeezed out if marijuana and its accoutrements went legit.

"That's a factory-produced tie-dye sheet," he said, pointing to a
purple-and-red-banded cloth draped over a table where he and his
buddies were selling buttons, hand-dyed T-shirts and PVC bongs as a
fundraiser for their festival. "They just pump them out, and the
quality suffers."

Jan Earl of Tumwater paddled his aluminum canoe from Magnolia to
avoid parking headaches.

"I came here for the party," he said, frying burgers on a crepe pan
perched atop a tiny propane camp stove. But he also believes
marijuana should be legalized -- as a way to increase tax revenues
and help pay down the national debt.

Today at the festival, former Seattle Police Chief Norm Stamper is
scheduled to call for an end to what he says is a futile and costly
war on drugs. Stamper advocates legalization and regulation of not
just pot, but heroin, cocaine and all other street drugs.

Legality could douse Hempfest's cool vibe, said Stroup. But the sheer
numbers of Americans who use pot -- 27 million in the past year
alone, according to government estimates, Stroup said -- should keep
the event afloat.

"It's not going to go away," he said, "even if it loses a little of
its luster."