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Cops handing out Doritos? Jack Webb is well and truly dead

August 19, 2013 - Paul Giannamore
I have said it before but I become more convinced daily.

I have awakened in an alternate timeline from where I grew up and worked most of my adult life.

Latest evidence, other than that DeLorean I saw on a flatbed truck on Route 7 last week (really, I did): Seattle police oficers spent at least some of the weekend at the city’s annual potfest handing out bags of Doritos.

I figure police used to park in the lot, waiting for heads to drive out onto the highway and nail ‘em. No more. Washington is one of those progressive places where it’s OK to smoke the wildwood flower if you’ve got ‘em, in small amounts and at home. Or at least not in public and not in such big amounts as to be a dealer.

The role of the cops wasn’t just to fulfill a bunch of cases of the munchies. The Doritos bags had info guides to the state pot law on them. Surely a couple of heads actually read them between tokes.

Alternative timeline, I tell you.

Imagine Jack Webb and Harry Morgan, as Joe Friday and Bill Gannon talking about this duty.

Webb: “This is the city. My partner is Gannon. My name is Friday. We were working the weekend day watch out of special public relations at the annual hemp festival. The event attracts a whole bunch of potheads, slackers, tokers, jokers, losers and — “

Morgan: “Now, wait a minute, Joe. The laws have changed. And we can’t profile people as slackers and potheads anymore.”

Webb: “They still are slackers and potheads, and they’re just waiting to have a bale in the trunk instead of a couple of ounces in the pocket, Bill.”

Morgan: “Well, if that’s what you think. Go ahead with your voice-over.”

Webb: “Thanks, partner. As I was saying, we were working the weekend day watch out of special public relations to provide information to potheads and slackers about the marijuana law. Public relations says we were to distribute our information sheets attached to little bags of single-serving size Doritos Cool Ranch tortilla chips. (Pause and then, to Morgan) -- Really, Bill? We’re handing out Doritos?”

Morgan: “Hey, Joe, me and the missus really enjoy those Cool Ranch chips. They don’t have that lasting after-taste of the usual —”

Webb: “I’m not talking about the chips, per se, Bill. What are we cops doing feeding munchies to the tokers? I mean, we should be keeping them from driving, keeping them away from schoolyards, keeping them from raising another generation of potheads and slackers. Used to be they’d be in violation of Section 212.22 and 212.25, paragraph A, paragraph B, subsection 1...”

Morgan: “Now, Joe, times are changing. They’ve repealed all of that and said a little weed is OK with the world. Even the attorney general is saying we can’t keep on stuffing the prisons with potheads when there are bigger fish to lock up. We can’t afford doing this forever. And people are passing laws saying they’re OK with a little pot. It’s like when Prohibition gave way in the 20th century, Joe. And me and the missus enjoy a little beer with you at the backyard barbecues, don’t we?”

Webb: “Marijuana isn’t beer, Bill. Beer isn't necessarily a gateway to a single-malt habit. And what you and the missus choose to do in your spare time is your problem. I’d rather be on patrol this weekend, looking for what the slackers and potheads do after the pot party in the park. I remember the days when the smell of grass in the park meant either the park was on fire or we had work to do.”

Morgan: “It’s not those days anymore, Joe. And those potheads are likely to just go over to the stores and buy all the chips and Twinkies after the big party.”

Webb: “Or wreck their cars, beat their kids, steal all the Twinkies and then go buy some heroin, Bill.”

Morgan: “Calm down, partner. We enforce the laws, we don’t write them. The people have spoken and a little pot isn’t so bad.”

Webb: “You and the missus planning on lighting up tonight, Bill?”

Cue the “Dragnet” theme...


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