BANNED, BUT THEY'RE CROPPING UP ALL OVER

L.A.'S Moratorium on Medical Pot Outlets Instead Allowed a Glut.

Four years ago, when the Los Angeles City Council started to wrestle
with how to control medical marijuana, there were just four known
storefront dispensaries, one each in Hancock Park, Van Nuys, Rancho
Park and Cheviot Hills.

Now, police say there are as many as 600. There may be more. No one
really knows.

That exponential rise came despite a moratorium passed in 2007 that
was supposed to prohibit new dispensaries from opening. An exception
was made for 186 that were already in business and registered with the city.

"The city of L.A. has failed us on this issue," said Michael Larsen,
public safety director with the Eagle Rock Neighborhood Council.
"There's a huge loophole. L.A. city's not watching. L.A. city's not enforcing."

No other city in California has seen such uncontrolled growth in
dispensaries. As signs featuring the easily recognized saw-toothed
cannabis leaf multiplied on commercial strips, neighborhood activists
like Larsen began to ask their council members why the city was not
shutting down dispensaries that opened after the moratorium.

Larsen was shocked at the answer. "Nothing controls these," he said.

The moratorium includes a standard provision that allows dispensaries
to appeal to the City Council for a hardship exemption to be allowed
to operate. Some time last year, medical marijuana entrepreneurs
discovered that the city attorney's office was not prosecuting
dispensaries that had filed hardship applications, saying the City
Council needed to rule on them first. The council has not acted on
any of the applications.

So far, 508 dispensaries have applied for exemptions.

It was months before anyone at City Hall realized what was happening.

Dispensaries have spread across the city. In some places, they are
clustered two or three to a block, sometimes near schools, libraries
and parks. When the council passed the moratorium, it did not include
LAPD Chief William J. Bratton's recommendation to keep dispensaries
at least 1,000 feet from places that children frequent.

Alarmed, the City Council's planning committee Tuesday took a step to
close the loophole by sending a motion to the council that would
strike the hardship exemption from the moratorium.

The committee's chairman, Ed Reyes, said he had not brought up any
hardship applications for review because he expected them to become
moot once the city passes a medical marijuana ordinance.

The City Council approved the moratorium to give itself time to write
a comprehensive ordinance regulating dispensaries. But the committee
has been laboring over a draft for more than a year.

Reyes said he became aware that the pending exemption applications
were creating a loophole about three months ago.

"I don't think anyone could have predicted how that clause was going
to be used," he said. "We've got abusive folks who are just gaming the system."

Councilman Jose Huizar proposed the motion April 28 to end what he
called a "perverse exploitation," responding to complaints from
constituents in Eagle Rock, which may have as many as a dozen dispensaries.

"I was pretty infuriated when I found how many have gone up and
without consideration for the local community," he said. "I do think
there are a few culprits right now who are just screwing it up for
the legitimate dispensaries."

Huizar's proposal would allow the city attorney to pursue legal
action to close any dispensaries that open after it becomes law, but
it would leave untouched the hundreds that have already slipped through.

In the month after Huizar introduced his motion, 183 dispensaries
filed for exemptions.

Those dispensaries have carte blanche to operate until the council
acts on their applications or an ordinance is in place, as would any
other dispensaries that file before Huizar's motion takes effect.

Roughly half a dozen applications are filed with the city clerk every day.

The council will take up the motion Tuesday, but it could take two
more weeks to become law.

Reyes said Tuesday he intends to whittle away at the hardship
exemption applications, holding hearings in the council on a dozen at
a time. If the council denies an application, the city attorney could
then begin legal proceedings to force the dispensary to close.

"I'm willing to sit there as many hours as I need to because it's
ridiculous that it's happening," he said.

When residents complain to the city about a new dispensary, city
inspectors check it out. The Department of Building and Safety has
received about 200 complaints. It has issued about 80 orders to
comply with the moratorium.

Those cases remain active.

"Technically, they are not open legally," said Frank Bush, assistant
chief for the code enforcement bureau, but he noted, "Before we can
take any further enforcement action, the City Council has to review
them and take any action."

Initially, most hardship applications were filed by dispensaries that
had tried to register by the deadline but failed to meet the
requirements, which included a city business tax registration
certificate and liability insurance coverage.

About a year after the moratorium took effect, a new type of
applicant started to appear: new storefront dispensaries. They argued
for exemptions on the grounds of providing a needed community service.

In a September 2008 application, a representative of a dispensary on
Laurel Canyon Boulevard in the San Fernando Valley wrote in a
two-page, handwritten plea: "I believe we have done everything
possible to see every patient walk out with nothing less than a
smile. We show love to all, respect towards everyone and compassion
with understanding to our patients and our community." It ended with
the salutation, "With Love and Respect."

Most dispensaries adopted a more dispassionate approach, merely
noting that they "had just become aware of the need to register" and
asking that the council approve the application.

It was not long before collectives that wanted to open storefront
dispensaries realized that, if they filled out a three-page form,
city officials would then be powerless to close them down. Word spread.

In December, Stewart Richlin, a lawyer who said he represents more
than 100 collectives, came up with a new rationale for a hardship
exemption that he filed for a downtown dispensary.

He wrote that the collective had been forced to operate without city
approval because the moratorium "required that managing members of
the collective literally confess a federal crime in order to
register." He argued that the federal government's raids had created
"a pattern of terror and fear." Then he noted that a recent court
decision and the state's attorney general's guidelines on how to
distribute medical marijuana legally promised a "new era."

"The people who filed originally were braver," he said, "but the
people who are filing now are more careful, law-abiding and
conservative patients who waited to get more of a signal."

Richlin's approach caught on. Many dispensaries simply cut and pasted
Richlin's explanation onto their forms.

The lawyer, who said he was flattered by the unauthorized
appropriation, believes the city has no public interest or real need
to control the number of dispensaries.

"There is a thing called supply and demand, and we aren't in need of
paternalistic government," he said.

Richlin also noted that removing the exemption from the moratorium
would give it teeth, but just for a few months. The one-year
moratorium, extended twice for six-month periods, expires in September.

"They're trying to close the barn door after 500, 600 centers have
relied on the old rules," he said.