Pot Martyr No Hit 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, the 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?

Paris of the Prairies
 
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 from a jail cell in The Paris of the Prairies, while posting a daily "prison blog."

'That marijuana guy'

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 preferred the smiling, wholesome face of Saskatoon's Nana Mouskouri to ease their pain. The whole province was smitten with Canadian Idol and 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 one of Emery's March speeches 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.

Emery has built a cult of personality, and his marijuana minions -- a group of supporters, some on salary at Emery's various business enterprises -- appear to be 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.

Bye, bye from 'Alabama North'

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 called Saskatchewan "Alabama North" because new ideas travel slowly to this region. He considers this province to be isolated from progressive "cosmopolitan centres" like Vancouver and Toronto.

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.

D. Grant Black is a Saskatchewan freelance journalist. If you scratch the surface, you'll find a pragmatic prairie Presbyterian.