TAKING A HIT FOR A GOOD CAUSE

Does Pot Impair Drivers More Than Booze. Columnist Puts It to a Test.

The man on the other end of the phone wanted me to go to a dispensary
and buy three-sixteenths of an ounce of high-grade dope and another
three-sixteenths of an ounce of medium-grade.

My wife overheard part of the conversation, and when I hung up she
had a question.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"The city attorney," I said.

Before I explain, let's review some history.

As some of you may recall, I went to a Glendale doctor about a year
ago seeking relief from lower back pain, and, of course, to have a
first-hand look at the blossoming medicinal marijuana industry. Now
I'm not saying it was strange for a doctor to have an office with no
medical equipment in it, but I did take note of that fact. And when I
described the pain, the doctor waved me off, saying he knew nothing
about back problems.

"I'm a gynecologist," he said, and then he wrote me a recommendation
making it legal for me to buy medicinal marijuana. The fee for my
visit was $150.

Los Angeles City Atty. Carmen Trutanich, who led the recent crackdown
on an explosion of local marijuana dispensaries, was very much aware
of my legal status as an honorary Rastafarian. And one day, several
months ago, he called to see if I'd be willing to make a sacrifice in
the public interest.

With Proposition 19 on the ballot, which would legalize marijuana in
the state, Trutanich was worried. There wasn't much data, he said,
about the effects of marijuana on driving impairment. Recently,
there'd been news of a study that suggested driving under the
influence of alcohol is more dangerous than driving while high.
Trutanich wanted to conduct his own research.

Do you like where this is going?

I know I did.

Would I be willing, Trutanich asked, to go to the police training
center with him, smoke some reefer, and see how I did behind the wheel?

Before Trutanich completed a sentence, I interrupted: "I'm in."

"Everybody in my office thinks this is a crazy idea," said Trutanich.
His staff was concerned about the legal and public relations liabilities.

"What do you think?" Trutanich asked.

"There are leaders, and there are followers," I said, advising
Trutanich to trust his instincts and to ignore those of lesser
courage and creativity.

"I'm really curious about it," he said. "Whatever we find out, fine,
either way it goes. But I'd like to know more."

It is in the public interest, I said. Hey, I'd be willing to take a
hit for the team.

To be honest, I'm not a pot smoker except on rare occasions (have you
ever experienced the agony of lower back pain)? The only time I've
smoked in recent years is with my sister, a cancer patient who has
found that marijuana helps with the pain. I do believe there's a
legitimate medicinal benefit for many people, just as I believe that
potheads far and wide found quacks who would give them permission
slips to get zonked.

Trutanich, by the way, opposes Proposition 19, as does much of law
enforcement. I've taken the other side, arguing that people will
continue smoking marijuana whether it's legal or not, so why not tax
and regulate it, deal a blow to drug gangs and put the millions now
spent on interdiction and prosecution to better use.

But I've wavered a bit as election day approaches, swayed by
arguments that commercializing pot would violate federal law and
invite litigation. It would also lead to patchwork policies at the
local level, it would lower the price of weed dramatically and
therefore create more widespread use, and it might lure illicit
out-of-state dealers into the California market.

Would more people in California drive while high if Proposition 19
passes? Probably, and when you add that to the problem of drunk
drivers and the legions of distracted drivers on cellphones and
BlackBerrys , it seemed worth finding out how much a man can smoke
before becoming a menace on the highway.

Several weeks went by, though, before I heard back from Trutanich.
Our experiment was on hold, he said, while he tried to iron out legal
concerns and talk law enforcement agencies into cooperating.

I had almost given up hope when Trutanich called a couple of weeks
ago to say we were good to go ganja. He'd arranged for the CHP to
administer sobriety tests, before and after, and guide me through an
obstacle course at the LAPD training center in Granada Hills. The CHP
was just as eager as he was to find out how I and another guinea pig
- -- radio talk show host Peter Tilden of KABC-AM (790) -- handled
ourselves after puffing the magic dragon.

"We'll provide the marijuana," Trutanich said, but then he called
back to say his staff determined the city attorney's office couldn't
legally pull that off, so I, as a person with legitimate medical
need, would have to pick up some product. Several times, late in the
evening and on weekends, Trutanich called me at home to go over the details.

At the appointed time on the morning of Oct. 11, Trutanich's
communications deputy, former L.A. County Sheriff's Cmdr. John
Franklin, picked me up at my house to drive me to Granada Hills,
where Trutanich and the police would be waiting.

"You got the stuff?" Franklin asked.

I reached into my backpack to make sure.

Yep, I said. Three-sixteenths of an ounce of Skywalker, and the same
amount of something called Train Wreck. That's got to be good stuff, right?

Tune in Wednesday, and I'll let you know.