UP IN SMOKE IN SASKATOON

It sounds like a paranoid pot-smoker's worst nightmare: a West Coast
hippie passes through a mid-western town and is arrested for marijuana
trafficking by burly cops.

But the hippie was actually Marc Emery, a millionaire cannabis
entrepreneur from B.C. who came to speak to a political rally at the
University of Saskatchewan last March. He was charged with trafficking
after one joint was casually passed to a supporter in a Saskatoon
park. On Aug. 19, he was sentenced to 92 days in the Saskatoon
Provincial Remand Centre.

Emery is no victim. He's not languishing in jail like Nelson Mandela.
His goal is not to further humanity, but to promote pot legalization
and his own lucrative brands: Pot-TV, Cannabis Culture magazine and an
Internet marijuana-seed business with more than $1 million in annual
sales. He's also president of the B.C. Marijuana Party, with a
libertarian philosophy: Government, leave us alone to grow our weed
and shoulder our unregistered guns.

Emery already has 10 previous convictions related to marijuana. Are
three months in the city calaboose just what he needs to attain
marijuana martyr status?

When Emery came to speak to the cannabis-converted, it was a misguided
attempt to challenge current marijuana laws. In Canada, the herb has
become a mainstream recreational indulgence for everyone from bored
public servants to stressed-out sportswriters. But lawmakers haven't
yet caught up to the whims of contemporary hedonists like Emery and
his posse, who rebelliously light up in front of police stations. Most
pot-smokers know better and confine their bong time to the basements
of the nation.

(Emery was lucky. Drug laws are much harsher for pot proponents in the
U.S. Canadian-born Tommy Chong, of the comedy duo Cheech and Chong
(infamous for their late '70s Up in Smoke movie), was sentenced to
nine months in prison last September for selling marijuana
paraphernalia.) It's no surprise that Emery was sentenced in
Saskatchewan, which nurtures corn-fed conservatism. His visit was like
a Californian going to Iowa to preach the pot gospel. Pragmatic
prairie judges follow the letter of the law, and Emery's pot circus
ends up stalled for a few months in the mid-West. Still, he continues
to operate his business interests like a Mafia don from a jail cell in
The Paris of the Prairies, while posting a daily "prison blog."

For many Canadians, Emery's sentence might be interpreted as a case of
regional intolerance -- a Left Coast, pot-promoting vegetarian comes
to the Prairies, then stumbles onto the film set of Midnight Express
2: Running Back to Saskatoon. But if you ask most locals, many know
him only as "that marijuana guy." While needing an escape from a
late-August frost that resulted in a billion-dollar crop loss to
farmers, people here much prefer the smiling, wholesome face of
Saskatoon's Nana Mouskouri to ease their pain. The whole province is
smitten with Canadian Idol and local gal Theresa Sokyrka's promotion
to the final sing-off.

In contrast, the imprisoned pothead makes for a pretty unsympathetic
martyr. David Shield, managing editor at Saskatoon's independent
magazine, planet S, said Emery's March speech at the U of S included
disparaging remarks about the province's greying population.
Apparently frustrated that his "free-the-weed" campaign was not
catching fire here, he tried some ageism with a rant on how
Saskatchewan seniors should all be set adrift on ice floes.

Shield explained that Emery has built a cult of personality, and his
marijuana minions -- a group of supporters who are on salary at
Emery's various business enterprises -- are leading the current Free
Mark Emery vigil. But big-city PR spin is wasted on pragmatic Prairie
people -- it's "Astroturf Organizing" with a hemp fringe and no actual
grassroots.

Dan Kinvig, a reporter from the Saskatoon StarPhoenix who covered
Emery's trial, told me the civic mood is not supportive and
Saskatonians see him as a regionalist snob. (Emery compared
Saskatchewan people to Alabamans where apparently new concepts don't
move very quickly because the people are too slow.)

I've met people like Emery when I lived in Vancouver. They're sadly
trapped in their regional root-cellars, bereft of national knowledge
and understanding. Fortunately for Emery, his 92-day Saskatoon
sabbatical could end after just 62 days with good behaviour. That
makes his tentative release date Oct. 19, just in time for the magic
mushroom-picking season back in B.C.

Saskatchewan says good riddance, marijuana guy.