E-Mail This Article to a Friend The inside dope User’s guide to the 16th-annual Freedom Rally BY CAMILLE DODERO

Okay, pot smokers. Here’s what you really want to know: will it be safe to bring weed to the Freedom Rally this Saturday on the Common?

"Discretion is always the better part of valor," offers Steven S. Epstein, a founder of Massachusetts Cannabis Reform Coalition (http://www.masscann.org/), the organization that sponsors the rally along with NORML. "Bringing a three-foot bong to the event and using it is a lot different from passing a joint or a smaller pipe."

The Boston Police Department usually descends on Boston Common during the Freedom Rally, which, on good-weather days, draws anywhere from 35,000 to 100,000. In years past, mounted cops have clopped around on horses, stared down longhairs, and tried to keep a straight face at all the bad pot puns (T-shirt sighted in 2003: Aberchronic and Pinch.). The BPD shows up with every intention of arresting people, but officers usually adhere only to the if-we-see-you-smoking-we’ll-nail-you policy. Last year’s Freedom Rally was effectively rained out, drawing 500 under a tent, so there were no reported arrests. But in 2003, there were at least 45 people taken into custody on drug-related charges. In 2002, that number was 52. The big year was 1997, when the rally drew 100,000 and the BPD busted 150.

One possible caveat: a couple years ago, Boston Police camped out by a makeshift gate at the edge of the Common, asking to examine the bags of unassuming entrants. Epstein, who’s also a lawyer, tracked down the officer in charge, and suggested that what the police were doing might be unlawful — walking into the Common might not constitute "reasonable suspicion" for a search. The BPD stopped.

So, what if law enforcement tries to examine your backpack? "If they’re asking, ‘May I just search your bags?’, then you just keep walking," advises Epstein, who’ll speak at Saturday’s rally. "But if the officer says, ‘Stop’ — you’ve got to comply with a ‘stop’ order in Massachusetts whether it’s legal or not. But you don’t have to consent to a search."

Yes, you’ll all be high there together. But if you’re discreet, it won’t be on your permanent record.

WAKE-AND-BAKE BILL

As always, the Freedom Rally starts conveniently at "high noon." The afternoon’s Master of Ceremonies is High Times magazine editor Rick Cusick, the Yoda of the decriminalization movement. I met him once and the first thing he asked me was, "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?" Cusick’s High Times co-editor, Steve Bloom (his real last name), will also be addressing the crowd between band sets, as will a host of others in the pro-pot movement: Keith Stroup, lawyer and NORML founder; CraigX, a former bong-dealer to the stars (specifically Brad Pitt) who once led 12,000 people in a communal toke at a hemp rally in Los Angeles; and "Magic" Ferguson, the feisty founder of Grammas for Ganja.

The Fools might not be quite old enough to be Grandpas for Ganja, but the Freedom Rally’s musical headliners (5:10 to 5:50 pm) do have an incestuous love-song ditty titled "Grandma." Formed three decades ago in Ipswich, the Fools are famous for such oldies-but-baddies as "Life Sucks ... Then You Die!!!," a goofy tune assured to elicit cheers with the woe-is-me line, "My son ran away and got hooked on drugs." (Random current-events fact: the Fools once played with Katrina and the Waves, the band now achieving newfound popularity from not-so-clever DJs and headline writers in the wake of the recent hurricane).

Among the nine other acts performing short sets (15 to 35 minutes) on the main stage are a heavy handful of suburban rockers, such as Waltham (4:25 to 5:00 pm), a lady-serenading Rick Springfield–honoring group of Camaro-rockers, and recent Danvers evacuee Robby Roadsteamer (3 to 3:30 pm), a cock-rock comic with terrible tattoos and a single-mom salute, "I Put a Baby In You." Be forewarned: Roadsteamer will indubitably heckle every blunted soul on the green.

For the straight-up metal-heads, there’s the triple-guitar-attack New Bedford band, Beyond the embrace (3:50 to 4:15 pm). For the hippie gypsies, there’s Reverend Glasseye (1:50 to 2:15 pm), a carnival-esque, orchestral dirge–like seven-piece the aforementioned Roadsteamer once derided as "funeral music for old people." For the really slit-eyed stoners, there’s Herbal Nation (1:10 to 1:40 pm), a jammy, jazzy ensemble whose claim to fame is that they’re "High Times’ favorite band." They’ll also be headlining the Freedom Rally’s Good Time Emporium after-party. Finally, for the hairy-armpitted fashionistas, there’s the annual hemp fashion show (3:25 to 3:50 pm). It’s, like, wow.

RALLY CAP

You will get hungry. There will be on-site venders, but you may start to feel anxious, get a impulsive bout of urban wanderlust, grow tired of the drum circles and lobbing hackeysacks. So where do you go? This can be tricky, because if you’re towing a moony group of starving heads, you don’t want to lead them anywhere that requires a laborious trek. A block into Chinatown is Pho Pasteur (682 Washington Street, Boston), a Vietnamese spot that serves steaming noodle bowls. Right around the corner from the Boylston MBTA stop is Beijing Chinese Restaurant (62 Boylston Street, Boston), a take-out-style joint with under-$6 fried-rice-and-meal specials, surprisingly ample booth seating, and a guaranteed lack of hassle. Added value: the staff repeats your order by yelling into a microphone that’s actually below the counter. Trippy!

Not feeling the Asian food? Rather have a human trough of cheap-and-easy selections? At the end of Boylston Place’s the Alley, there’s City Place, an open food court of Sbarro, Herreras Burritos, and Dunkin’ Donuts. Or if you’re with a gaggle of high, health-conscious women (read: Boston College girls), drag your bony asses to KnowFat! (530 Washington Street, Boston), a healthy local chain that features calorie counts on its receipts; it’s only a block off Boylston.

If you’d rather have a slice, head to the edge of the Common that’s behind the stage towards Upper Crust (20 Charles Street, Boston), a gourmet-pizza place with a funky, space-out-inducing metal ceiling with wide, thick-sauced cheese slices for only $2.50. Or if you’re just looking for beer, try the 21st Amendment (150 Bowdoin Street, Boston), a cozy bar near the State House. (Don’t even think of toking near the State House.) During the week, the place draws Beacon Hill suits, but on the weekends, it’s dark, mellow, and no one can see your eyes — which will be very, very important.