Tommy Chong Confirms Jail Sucks: Wonders of Cannabis Festival Sends Stoners to Rehab

Saturday and Sunday's Wonders of Cannabis Festival in Golden Gate Park at Lincoln and 9th Ave. succeeded in one true thing: convincing attendees that they need to cut back -- "wayyy back, man."

If the sound of people hacking up a lung in the parking lot didn't make attendees reconsider, then the herds of fat, bearded, dull-eyed 50-year-old burn outs intervened. Moreover, the impermeable ganja smog of the place reminded people of the time their Dad caught them smoking a cigarette and made them smoke a ten packs. Overkill achieves aversion.

Which isn't to say a $15,000, automated weed trimmer called 'Odin's Berry-Shucker" wasn't a sight to behold. Anything to put hippies out of business, I say. Ditto for the pocket vaporizers that make you look like you're smoking Spock's tri-corder. And Tommy Chong's half-hour comedy bit wasn't unfunny.

Chong's memory remains strong enough to entertain an easily amused crowd, and he affirmed his status as a road-tested stand-up comedian, if only by sheer motor-cortal reflex. The racial jokes got the most laughs from the graying acolytes. Chong's wife of 35 years (MiLF!) talked about how Chong introduced her to Cheech by saying, "He's a Mexican."

"What's a Mexican," she asked.

"It's like an Indian with an education."

Chong also told the audience why the Batman and Robin of soft drug addiction flamed out.

"We got rich. And I've always said, 'you can't make a rich Mexican do shit.'"

At this point, someone in the 500-person hall started yelling "Viva, Mexico!", and "Viva, Zapata!" and I had to get some fresh air.

Photos for this story are pending recollection of where we put down the camera.

--David Downs