Tomorrow night the three play the after—party for the Comedy Store's ExtravaGANJA show, a massive stand—up comedy event produced by greentherapy.com's Howard Dover—"the Bob Geldof of medical marijuana"—and featuring such comics as The Marijuana—Logues' Doug Benson.
"How many times am I stopped in California and don't get taken to jail, get a ticket or a warning for having weed?" Ponyboy asks, referring to the state's 1996 passing of Proposition 215, the Compassionate Use Act, which allows, upon obtaining a doctor's recommendation, the use of marijuana as medicine. "But when the cops stop us in Vegas, oh my God, we're shitting in our pants. I gotta go check myself in the washroom, for Pete's sake!"
"Once they pull me over, like, 'Yeah, who gots the pot?'" Fuzzy relates. "'I won't lie to you, officer. I just had a joint.' He goes, 'I can live with that; let me run your shit.' My plates were expired, no insurance, nothing."
"Oh, motherf——ker, you was asking for that shit then!" Ponyboy roars.
"Hey, they still let me go, though!"
A staunch legalization advocate, Ponyboy, 37, calls his group Los Marijuanos. The rapper has released four independent CDs, traveled halfway across the world and received countless favorable comparisons to weed—obsessed rappers Cypress Hill. Much of his message offers alternatives: hemp oil as an alternative to fossil fuels; growing hemp as an alternative for making paper, rope and clothing; medical marijuana as an alternative to expensive and addictive pain pills; voting and attending rallies as an alternative to sitting home, smoking and complaining about the government; doing just about anything else with tax dollars as an alternative to spending "a katrillion kazillion" on the drug war.
Though he's largely unknown even in Vegas, where he lives, Ponyboy is on the verge of providing the hip—hop soundtrack to the very global medical—marijuana movement. How has he gotten this far? His life philosophy matches that of his music: "I just do what I feel. If I feel it, I do it."
••••
The nickname came courtesy of a friend partial to The Outsiders, who noticed that the man formerly known as Rafael Ochoa compulsively clad himself in Pony athletic shoes. The rapper, who recently designed a line of Mi Raza sneakers, claims he once owned Ponies in every color available.
Ponyboy began singing to console his mother after his father "would whoop on her," a hairbrush standing in for a microphone as he re—created the Spanish music she loved. Soon he joined the school chorus, then discovered turntables; he's made his living as an entertainer ever since.
Ponyboy comes by his drug fascination honestly; he says his family, the Zambranos, ran a major Midwestern drug ring that ended in bloodshed and jail. When Mama Marijuanos, who used to call her son "Pinche Marijuano" ("F——king Pothead") heard his group's name, she was less than enthused. "She was like, 'Que?'" Ponyboy relates. "'You're not gonna make it! The Federales are going to be after you! The police are gonna be after you with a name like that!'"
The Marijuanos' first big break came after the 1998 release of their debut Pure Drama, which included the track "Time 2 Get High." A Chicago—based radio shock jock put Ponyboy and Co. on his show several times, helping build a local following and score appearances at Windy City and Seattle Hempfests, Chicago's Million Marijuana March, the Minnesota Tea Party (during which they toked up in front of Jesse Ventura's mansion), and write—ups in such publications as High Times, Skunk, XXL and The Source.
Ponyboy moved to Vegas four years ago this week to co—found a record company. He nearly returned to Chicago when the deal went sour, but once Fuzzy and S.K. entered his creative inner circle, his outlook—and output—benefitted.
"I've gotten this far," he says. "I can actually say that I've never really had a real daytime job. I mean, look at my hands." He offers his large, smooth meat hooks for inspection. "You see those hands there?" he asks, referring to S.K.'s smaller, rough specimens. "Those hands look like they been lifting up tractor wheels. Me, I been lifting up the toilet seat."
••••
Pre—ExtravaGANJA, Ponyboy mingles with sponsors (Nice Creams medicated ice cream named its "Los Marijuanos Mint" flavor after his group), artists (30 VIPs cloud the crammed backstage dressing room with thick smoke) and friends.
The Rev. Charles Edward "Eddy" Lepp drove eight hours to join the crowd tonight. Considered more a freedom fighter than a mere cannabis activist by medical—marijuana supporters, the Vietnam vet with a host of health maladies was raided in 2004 by the DEA, which seized more than 32,000 plants from his Upper Lake, California, farm. Los Marijuanos had filmed their "Let's Smoke" video at Eddy's Medicinal Gardens; Ponyboy counts Lepp as both a friend and mentor.
Lepp returns the sentiment. "He is a talented musician with incredible charisma," he says of Ponyboy. "His songs spread the message of truth."
"It totally changed my life," Ponyboy enthuses of his 2000 introduction to Lepp at Amsterdam's 13th Annual Cannabis Cup. "It was an enlightenment. Instead of just singing and rapping about rolling up weed and smoking with my friends and drinking, I actually learned something: that I know I can save the world. Not that I thought to myself, 'Wow, I'm Superman or Bluntman'; Eddy told me, 'If you can rap about it, and people buy your CDs, that means you're doing something.' We're not soldiers to the Word of Cannabis or anything, but the stuff that we say in our music, that message is helping out. We may not be able to contribute millions of dollars to NORML and stuff like that, but we're contributing our word. Between us three, we communicate with thousands."
At the show's opening, producer Howard Dover steps from behind the red curtain to the Marijuanos' "Mr. Weed Man," an homage to The Chordettes' "Mr. Sandman." Dover, who met the group through Lepp at last year's Seattle Hempfest, saw the rappers work a crowd of several thousand. "I knew they were going to be a great addition to one of my nights," he recalls. "Their music, not to sound corny, has a wonderful urban feel and they really give it their all when they perform."
Afterward, at Melrose Avenue's Galaxy Gallery—all white—painted wood, sparse, colored lights and darkly swirling smoke—Marijuanos perform behind a counter of glass pipes and in front of endlessly stretching shelves of bongs. Sound problems pervade, but they remain professional throughout.
"Mr. Weed Man" and the upbeat, spacey "Flame On" get the crowd moving, while "Burn Wit U," a swooning R&B jam, prompts swaying and hugging. The brand new "You're My Friend," an ode to the friendship of one "Mary Jane," showcases the group's tight interplay, impeccable timing, and above all, its priorities.
Somewhere around 3 a.m., the three congratulate themselves on a gig well performed. After arriving in town last night, they gorged themselves at Shakey's and hit a strip club; tonight they're going straight to bed.
"I liked it!" Fuzzy drawls. "I was f——ked
up! Too much edibles!"
"Pony was f——ked up, too," S.K. offers. "He was falling asleep outside in his water!" The exact context of that nodding—off—over a glass of water, a bong, or even a dog bowl—remains a mystery. Ponyboy has disappeared out the door, and S.K.'s head has found a makeshift pillow in a tabletop.
••••
Much as medical marijuana activism is a grass—roots movement, Ponyboy envisions his career growing the same way.
The ExtravaGANJA after—party doubly served as the DVD—release party for the film Get Ponyboy. Director/screenwriter Juan Frausto (Once Upon a Time in the Hood) first noticed Ponyboy, then singing with a Latin group, on the set of a video shoot. According to the rapper, Frausto stared at him "real sweet" between takes to the point where Ponyboy thought the filmmaker was hitting on him. But in fact, Frausto felt Ponyboy possessed the presence and versatility for a film career. "I was like, whatever," the burgeoning actor says. "I figured he wanted me for a cameo or something, but the guy came back with a script a month later and had written it with me as the star."
Filmed last summer in Chicago and available on DVD later this month, Get Ponyboy revolves around the post—prison exploits of a former gangbanger who returns to his old neighborhood, burns through odd jobs, dreams of making it as a rapper, and saves his new love interest from life in a whorehouse ... run by vampires.
It's a goofy stoner comedy with all the makings of a ghetto—camp classic, and Ponyboy is surprisingly good in it. He says the sequel tentatively films this July in Vegas, with a plot involving pot, Vegas, an Indian reservation and a witch doctor. Meanwhile, Ponyboy is writing a treatment for The Sons of Cheech and Chong, an updated homage to the seminal stoner flicks; he hopes to direct and portray Cheech's son.
Also on the horizon, he's planning both a "big—ass" festival show in Las Vegas and a multiband tour tentatively called Hemp 101. February 28 sees a local performance at the Ice House, and any day now they'll learn if a 2007 Cannabis Cup performance is a go. If confirmed, the performance would mark a three—peat for Ponyboy, who isn't content to merely conquer the world. He's thinking even bigger.
"I was just aiming for the Latinos at first, but everywhere around the world, everyone smokes marijuana," he says. "You got white, black, Japanese, Russians. Even Martians f——king smoke weed! Marijuana is a universal thing. One of the very few universal things. I honestly believe hemp can save the world. God made this plant and there's no reason it should be illegal."