Big business had, for more than fifty years, played an integral role in the development of government policy and the formulation of federal legislation. They paid millions of dollars to powerful lobbying firms, who often recruited former members of Congress after their terms in office had ended. Oil companies, auto manufacturers, agribusiness, pharmaceutical companies, the medical and legal professions, tobacco growers, and the insurance industry hired legions of lobbyists to successfully steer lawmakers in the "right direction", ensuring minimal efforts toward protecting consumers and enabling these huge corporations to maximize their profits.
One of the most blatant examples of government excess had to do with "big tobacco". Cigarette manufacturers had known for years how their products were addictive, and had resulted in the premature deaths of millions of their customers. Because they were killing off their own customer base, it was imperative that cigarette companies created new consumers who would become addicted and buy their products. Amidst massive public outrage, the tobacco companies still thrived; even as they entered other lines of business, cigarettes remained one of their most profitable ventures. In recent years, tobacco companies used innovative marketing ploys that stuck to the letter of the laws requriing them to avoid marketing to youth; at the same time, these marketing initiatives avoided staying within the spirit of those laws, and many successful advertising campaigns continued to generate new and younger customers even though, on the surface, it appeared as if the companies were avoiding the lucrative youth market. At one time, in 2006, it was revealed that cigarette manufacturers had increased the amount of nicotine and other addictive carcinogens in a vociferous attempt to keep smokers "hooked". Not much more legalized drug dealers, Even without television advertising, cigarette manufacturers continued their shameless practices of selling a product that had been proven to be a killer.
On February 15, the so-called "Patrick-Patrick" resolution had been introduced. Article XX proposed to legalize all drugs as a more efficient way of controlling consumption and minimizing illness and death from illegal drug use. A svelte, handsome woman named Lynn Patrick had teamed with a tall, gregarious man named Patrick Hamilton to introduce the resolution. They seemed to be the poster children for those millions of long-haired hippies who had punctuated their youth with demands for "free love" and getting "high on life".
Patrick's personna was that of a carefree, high-spirited woman who had experimented with sex, drugs and rock 'n roll throughout most of her youth and into her middle-aged years. Stunningly attractive, outgoing, and exhibiting a playful interest in all kinds of sexual misadventures, she would almost certainly have to be dragged kicking and screaming into her golden years. Lynn Patrick was full of fun, vigor, and insatiable sexual vitality.
People of moderate means who practiced mundane lifestyles would view Hamilton as a "high-liver". The tall, lanky chain-smoking, beer-drinking, karaoke-singing clay modeler had enjoyed a colorful life filled with similar misadventures. It was evident that he saw no reason to slow down just because this year he'd turn 50. Beer was so much more than just a breakfast drink for Hamilton; it was his "water" - the sustenance of life. Known to indulge in marijuana, he also burned up an average of four packs of cigarettes each day. Both members of the Patrick-Patrick team celebrated life with a vibrant gusto that was so dismally absent from so many middle-aged men and women who worried more about their 401k than they did any zest for good times and high living.
Their resolution had been passed into law on Election Day, March 4. A panel of citizens had prepared the formal language that converted the resolution into legislation, which would become law after the November elections. One thing had been overlooked, however...and that presented a bit of a precarious problem for those who drafted the legislation. Cigarettes and alcohol had been excluded from the legislation. Since they were legal "drugs", they were not privy to the law. This posed a quandary of dramatic proportions since some states already had laws banning smoking in all public places. Other states and some local counties had restricted smoking to designated areas. Alcohol, of course, was regulated in most states and sold only in licensed liquor stores, bars and restaurants, or private clubs. Debate was brewing over this issue: should alcohol and cigarettes be included in the legislation? Some argued that it was not necessary since they were already legalized drugs. But, if they were not included as part of the law, could states or local communities outlaw them altogether?
If marijuana, heroin, cocaine, and other illicit drugs were going to be legalized under specific conditions, it was important that the milder forms of "drug use" also be protected under the same law. Certainly, it would be subject to community standards, and different towns or townships might modify the use of such drugs. But Lynn Patrick and Patrick Hamilton believed the new law could not exclude cigarettes and alcohol. It left a legal door ajar that might be used by some politicians to eradicate "drugs" that were already "legal".
The Patrick-Patrick team vocalized, galvanized, and organized. Cigarettes and booze had to remain "legal". This issue would probably require a referendum; Lynn Patrick and Patrick Hamilton planned a road trip to gain support for the measure. The two hired a luxury 52-seat bus, stocked it with smokes, beer, and lots of liquor, and took off on a cross-country journey, determined to crush any opposition to their cause. Several O.U.T.R.A.G.E. members went along for the ride, members of the press were invited to ride short segments between cities, and "interested" citizens joined the crusade.
As the bus would pull into a city or town, Lynn Patrick would practically throw herself out of the bus window waving at the crowds, throwing kisses at the salivating men, and sometimes topless or wearing only a scanty halter top and hot pants. Her selection of gaudy, bright magenta and chartruese outfits accentuated her sexuality and enthralled the onlookers.
Patrick Hamilton would disembark from the bus with a cigarette in one hand and an ice cold beer in the other, often wearing a Hawaiian sports shirt, shorts, and his trademark "court jester" cap with jingle bells attached to each of the baclk-and-white checked cap's six tentacles. It was a sight to behold; and it proved that the O.U.T.R.A.G.E. events had not destroyed Americans' ability to laugh and have a good time. Everywhere the team went, they seemed to attract crowds of supporters who sent a message: what O.U.T.R.A.G.E. had done had to be done, but not at the expense of individual fun and freedom. America still needed its diversions.