POT BUSINESSES A REMINDER OF THE '70S

Wow. Two medical marijuana businesses in Durango. Back in 1970-73,
while I wandered through the classrooms of the enchanted mesa, the
azure sky and fiery Colorado sun often were blotted out by clouds of
pot smoke.

Maybe it still is. (Then, $10 for a lid.) At one point, the mighty
police department went up and down Main Avenue for two days and
arrested more than 200 students, cowboys, real estate agents, Vietnam
vets, psychotherapists, lawyers, artists, moms, dads, teachers,
politicians and fellow cops because they were seen giggling with red
eyes and they were eating everything in sight, from potato chips to
rotting carp. All were set free by an overwhelmed judge.

In the mid-1980s, Durango was a stopover in the drug runners' air
corridor that ran from, I believe, Hermosillo, Mexico, through
Farmington, Durango and on to Denver. There were so many small planes
overhead, they would have had to hire an extra air traffic controller
if any of them had filed a flight plan.

Because the business of America is business, give a thought on your
next stroll down Main Avenue to the bars, restaurants and real estate
companies founded on a box of baggies, a pile of pot and a postal
scale. It's a lot more than you think.

Bongs away. Everything comes full circle.

Al Brown

Hood River, Ore.