A stocky onetime mortgage broker is speeding through Costa Mesa in an old pickup with two pounds of weed in a paper bag. He wears gray cargo shorts and flip-flops and a faded cap with the image of a marijuana leaf stitched on the front. He just smoked a joint thick as a knuckle.
..For a man whose apartment was raided recently and now faces felony drug possession and cultivation charges, he doesn't seem particularly worried about the mission at hand.
Ricky rants about a federal and local crackdown on
medical marijuana that closed various dispensaries that he ran and forced him back to the streets, where he began as a teenager in the 1970s. (Except then, he was a dealer. Now he is a "mobile dispensary.")
"It's too late!" he bellows. "The genie is out of the bottle. A huge demand has been created. It's back to the underground. Anyone who is smart is just going to take it back to the streets."
He says he knows lots of people scurrying to the shadows as the state has struggled and failed to regulate the medical cannabis industry and local law enforcement agencies and the federal government have tried to curtail it.
..
Despite the problems, he was in the sunlight for the first time in his marijuana career and enjoyed it. He had always known he could end up in prison, and he prepared for it mentally, but things seemed to be changing.
Then he got busted.
From a tip, police put his apartment under surveillance and noticed
his Edison meter was spinning like a ballerina, a sure sign that grow lights were guzzling power. They served a search warrant last year, seized his plants and about $20,000, and charged him with drug possession and cultivation. He's preparing for trial now.