Next spring marks the 50th anniversary of both the Georgia Straight and the landmark Human Be-In at Stanley Park. Leading up to that, the Straight will be publishing short articles and local concert-poster art to detail the events and spirit of the late 1960s in Vancouver and the flowering of the psychedelic age.

I attended two cannabis festivals this summer and, most recently, the Rifflandia Festival in Victoria last week (September 15 to 18). I am familiar with Rifflandia, as I was a vendor at the festival last year, and I am very impressed with festival operators Atomique Productions.

I have known Nick and Dimitri, the owners of Atomique, since they were in their teens. Both of them have their fingers on the pulse of what is wanted in festival music today. And I can relate to Rifflandia, as I can see how this event has evolved from festivals I am familiar with from the past. I can see the progression in the music.

Never would I have believed 50 years ago—back when I organized the Teenage Fair, which was a music festival within the PNE—that I would be working cannabis festivals five decades later, promoting and selling my book about those same long-ago times.

I didn't know it at the time (although I would certainly find out later) that the most notorious RCMP narc of those days, Sgt. Abe Snidanko, was following me around Vancouver like a scene out of Cheech and Chong's Up in Smoke.

Eventually I would be busted by the man himself, who would go on to be made infamous by that stoner-comedy duo in both recordings and film, albeit with a slightly changed name. (The police-harassed Georgia Straight also busted Snidanko by publishing his home address in a regular column; he was transferred to another department afterward.)

That arrest would forever change my life (and I will go into more detail about that in a future column). 

But about the two cannabis festivals this summer. Both of them were great, but it is almost hard for me to accept that we are on the eve of marijuana legalization in Canada, which is why these festivals are now possible. There were no major problems, no crazy drunks, just a lot of very mellow participants. I had no idea that there could be so many ways to get stoned, and so many related cannabis products. This is certainly a growth industry.

After attending both of those festivals, it became very clear that many of the participants had no idea as to what it took to get to this point in history. There were many casualties of prohibition along the way—far too many to count—with so many going to jail for no reason other than smoking an herb. This would affect many for the rest of their life. (In the 1960s, it was still possible to get life in prison upon conviction for trafficking in pot.)

I'm proud to call myself a veteran of the times; we are winning the war on drugs. But we must not forget the victims of this war, which was fought over a plant that we are learning now has many health benefits.

The poster above, for a September 2 "Dance Happening", was my version of the psychedelic liquid-projection visuals that were just beginning to be used at concerts. I believe Bruce Dowad did this poster, but I am not certain.

Sam Perry, who did my first light show, was a true visionary, far ahead of his time. Perry told me he wanted to do liquid-projection backdrops at my concerts as his version of the early 1960s New York interactive performance-art "happenings" that sometimes involved activities like participants throwing paint on walls.

Perry committed suicide at the age of 27, one of the first of many casualties. It was a difficult time. I wanted this poster to be a tribute to Sam, may he rest in peace.

For this happening, I had two great bands: the Tom Northcott Trio, one of the greatest bands from Vancouver, and the Liverpool Five, who were based in California and popular in the northwest but had started in England and come over in the mid-60s as part of the British Invasion. (I failed to mention this in my poster.)

This, indeed, was a time of transition; at end of the month, I would move my dancehall to the Kitsilano Theatre.

I had operated the dance hall for almost a year at the Pender Auditorium and it was now time to move. I believed this was the time to make Kitsilano's West Fourth Avenue happen, and I wanted to have a part in it.

The above poster (I believe) was the first of many posters that Bob Masse would do for the Afterthought. Bob would continue to create Afterthought posters and became recognized as one of the greatest poster designers of the time.