HIGH TIME

Nevadans Will Vote On Whether To Legalize Recreational Use Of Marijuana

Las Vegas -- Nevada, with a century-old tradition of minting money by
sanctioning vice, now aims to be the first state in the country to
legalize marijuana for recreational use.

On election day, Silver State voters will decide on Question 9, which
would amend the state constitution to allow possession of up to 3
ounces of marijuana by anyone over 21. The so-called "reeferendum"
also must win a second general election two years from now to take
effect on Jan. 1, 2005.

Nevada would tax marijuana, which police say now sells for about $300
an ounce, at 30 percent of the wholesale cost plus approximately 7
percent at retail.

But the federal government is unlikely to look the other way if the
state that pioneered legal prizefighting, prostitution and gambling
gives new meaning to the term "high roller."

"It would put state law there in Nevada in conflict with federal law,"
said Will Glaspy, a spokesman for the Drug Enforcement Administration
in Washington.

"It's really hard to speculate on any future law enforcement
activity," he said, but added, "it's clear the Supreme Court has
upheld that federal law supersedes state laws directly in regard to
drug laws."

So far, many Nevadans appear to have cottoned to the idea. Backers got
a record 110,000 signatures in just 40 days to put Question 9 on the
ballot. Polls show voters evenly divided, but Nevada's largest
newspaper, the Las Vegas Review-Journal, has endorsed the measure.

Some residents say their state is being used as a giant petri dish by
outsiders.

"Charlatans and carpetbaggers" is how Sandy Heverly, executive
director of Stop DUI and a leader of the opposition to legal
marijuana, characterizes the group behind Question 9.

Although the pro-pot group is called Nevadans for Responsible Law
Enforcement, it's led by a Texas politico, staffed by brand-new
residents and heavily financed by a Washington group, the Marijuana
Policy Project, whose biggest contributor is Cleveland billionaire
Peter Lewis of Progressive Auto Insurance. NRLE does have a 30-member
steering committee of Nevada legislators, physicians, nurses and
medical marijuana patients.

Billy Rogers, a savvy Lone Star State campaign manager who moved to
Vegas to run NRLE, said the state seems ripe for marijuana reform
because it recently made possession of small amounts a misdemeanor,
rather than a felony, as well as allowing medical marijuana. Also,
Nevada's anything-goes reputation and the concentration of two-thirds
of its 2 million residents in Las Vegas simplifies
campaigning.

So far, NRLE has spent $900,000 and plans to spend another $300,000 to
$400, 000. It's currently saturating local television airwaves with
two 30-second ads that appear 50 or 60 times a day, costing about
$50,000 a week. Rogers said almost all the funds have come from the
Washington group, although some Nevadans are beginning to donate small
amounts.

NRLE's cluster of offices next door to an Arby's restaurant looks like
any campaign headquarters, with wall-size maps of Las Vegas precincts,
a cadre of enthusiastic young volunteers, stacks of signs, and a table
well-stocked with munchies.

The pro-pot campaign has a well-funded, high-tech feel; one bookcase
houses a bank of 70 Palm devices with databases of registered voters
that volunteers can update during the daily door-to-door canvassing
drives. It has 13 paid staff members, including Rogers, who said his
annual salary is $84,000.

The anti-pot group, Nevadans Against Legalizing Marijuana, is more
embryonic. Its dozen or so members are a loose-knit coalition of law
enforcement types -- narcotics detectives, district attorneys -- and
social service groups focused on substance abuse. They meet
occasionally in the rehearsal room of a local arts center, flanked by
dozens of music stands and a huge kettle drum, with a trio of young
violinists warming up next door.

So far, the coalition has raised about $200,000 and filmed four
commercials, three of which have aired. It has lined up local cable
provider Cox Communications to finance and give airtime for TV ads
that will feature former Nevada governors speaking out against Question 9.

The anti-pot group is tapping into a strong religious base, enlisting
local pastors to preach against Question 9.

The group's secret weapon is a quart-size Ziploc bag filled with 255
"joints" rolled from 3 ounces of parsley, designed to demonstrate how
much weed would be legal.

"When you actually show people the bag holding 255 cigarettes, they're
very surprised," said Heverly from Stop DUI.

But Rogers scoffed at that notion. He said 3 ounces would roll the
equivalent of three packs of cigarettes, or 60 joints.

His NRLE folks are trying their darnedest to look wholesome.

The young volunteers who daily ring doorbells wear crisp khakis and
sparkling white T-shirts. You would expect them to be pushing Bibles,
not doobies.

After a young woman with bright pink hair, raccoon-like eye makeup, a
transparent blouse and a notable lack of focus wafts into campaign
headquarters offering to volunteer, "team captain" April Huneycutt
frowns and says, "She'd have to dye her hair and clean up a bit. We're
not looking to project a pothead image."

Volunteers and staffers spoke of their motivation in altruistic terms:
They want Nevada to reap the expected millions in tax revenue; they
think law enforcement resources would be better saved for more serious
crimes; they have friends whose lives were ruined by marijuana
convictions.

But the locals who back Question 9 have somewhat less philanthropic
reasons.

"... I'm voting yes because I smoke pot all day," said Eugenio
Gonzalez when the Question 9 canvassers knocked on his door in a
modest garden apartment complex a couple of miles from the Strip. He
said he hopes legalizing marijuana will make it easier for him to find
a job because employers won't be able to bar him if a drug test finds
it in his system.

Still, some Nevadans one might expect to be vocal supporters oppose
legalizing marijuana.

The Smoke Shop on the seedy north end of the Strip calls itself Las
Vegas' largest hemp shop and sells all the requisite paraphernalia,
from Zig-Zag cigarette papers to $420 handblown glass water pipes.

Smoke Shop clerk Kevin, who declined to give his last name, is a beefy
6- footer with an Old Testament-worthy beard and uncombed
shoulder-length hair. Kevin said he thinks Question 9 "is the
stupidest goddamn thing I ever heard in my life. Every lowlife will
come here wanting to become a small-time drug dealer."

If Question 9 passes, a host of issues remain to be resolved, such as
how to procure the product, which could not be imported or exported
(the state either could set up its own farms or license growers); and
where to sell it (most likely in special shops, but existing outlets
such as convenience stores could carry it).

Don't expect Alice B. Toklas brownies in the buffets or hookah lounges
next to the slot machines: Public consumption would be barred.

"This is not going to turn into Amsterdam," Rogers
said.

But Gary Booker, chief deputy district attorney for Clark County,
disagreed.

"This will be a mecca for people who want to get high," he said.