IN CALIFORNIA, MARIJUANA'S JUST ANOTHER HERBAL TONIC

LOS ANGELES - With little notice and even less controversy, marijuana
is now available as a medical treatment in California to almost anyone
who tells a willing physician he would feel better if he smoked.

Pot is now retailed over the counter in hundreds of storefronts across
Los Angeles and is credited with reviving a section of downtown
Oakland, where an entrepreneur sells out classes offering "quality
training for the cannabis industry." The tabloid LA Journal of
Education for Medical Marijuana is fat with ads for Magic Purple,
Strawberry Cough and other offerings in the city's more than 400
"dispensaries."

Los Angeles officials say applications for retail outlets surged after
Feb. 26, when U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder announced that the
Drug Enforcement Administration will no longer raid such stores. Those
pressing for change in drug laws regard the announcement as a
watershed in a 40-year battle against marijuana's official listing as
a dangerous drug - a legal fight that, in California, is being waged
on ground that has shifted dramatically toward acceptance.

All told, 13 states have legalized medical marijuana, a trend
advocates credit in part to growing openness to alternative healing.
As a "Schedule 1" drug under the 1970 federal narcotics act, marijuana
officially has "no currently accepted medical use." But doctors have
found it effective in reducing nausea, easing glaucoma and improving
appetite and sleep in AIDS patients.

Marijuana use is widespread - government surveys show that 100 million
Americans have smoked pot or its resin, hashish, in their lifetimes,
and 25 million have done so in the past year. Yet polls show that the
public is still wary of legalization. As President Obama recently
chuckled when asked about legalizing marijuana, "I don't think that's
a good strategy to grow our economy."

But in California, pot is such a booming growth industry that
lawmakers are being asked to consider its potential as a salve to the
state's financial woes. Betty Yee, chairwoman of the California State
Board of Equalization, endorsed a bill in February to regulate the
estimated $14 billion marijuana market, citing the state's budget
problems. California currently collects $18 million in sales taxes
from marijuana dispensaries, and Yee said a regulated pot trade would
bring in $1.3 billion.

"I think the tide is starting to turn in terms of marijuana being part
of the mainstream," she said.

In Los Angeles, Councilman Dennis Zine warned that half the city's
sales outlets might be forced to close, but only to control the growth
of what the city now regards as an accepted business. "We're not
getting complaints about people smoking marijuana," said the retired
motorcycle policeman. "We're seeing complaints about the proliferation
of facilities. They opened up right down the street from my district
office, in the same complex as a liquor store. Got the big green leaf
in front."

The new reality can be disorienting. In Mendocino County, the heart of
Northern California's "Emerald Triangle," marijuana farming has been
openly tolerated since the arrival of counterculture refugees in the
late 1960s. But elected officials say they are being forced to crack
down on growers who offended neighbors with aggressive farming after
medical marijuana laws hastened pot's shift from the black market to a
gray zone.

"Prop. 215 opened up a new world for people who had been underground,"
said Scott Zeramby, referencing the 1996 ballot proposition that
legalized pot for medical users. By 2007, Zeramby's garden supply
business in Fort Bragg was doing $2.5 million in business amid a land
rush by new growers eager to cash in.

"Things were getting a little crazy, even out of hand," Zeramby said.
"What happened? A critical mass."

At the other end of the supply chain, some 200 dispensaries have
opened using a legal loophole in an L.A. moratorium on such outlets,
some making only the thinnest pretense of operating as "caregivers,"
the legal justification for providing cannabis directly.

"Medical marijuana, right here, right now," chants a barker on the
Venice Beach Boardwalk, outside the Medical Kush Beach Club. "Get
legal, right now."

It really is that easy, the barker explains. Before being allowed to
enter the upstairs dispensary and "smoking lounge," new customers are
directed to the physician's waiting room, presided over by two young
women in low-cut tops. After proving state residence and minimum age
(21), customers see a doctor in a white lab coat who for $150 produces
a "physician's recommendation."

Valid for one year, it is all California law requires to purchase and
smoke 8 ounces legally.

"I told him I had problems with my knee," said Joe Rizzo, 31, emerging
from an examination with a knowing grin.

Outside the Blue Sky Coffee Shop in Oakland, Ritz Gayo clutched an
eighth of Blue Dream ($44) and tried to remember the nature of his
complaint.

"Um, my back," said Gayo, 20. He went on to recite a partial list of
symptoms suggested in newspaper ads. "That, and I love pot."