By GABRIELLA BOCK | Reporter
All photos courtesy of Cheech Marin
He’s an author, a two-time “Jeopardy” champion and is now preparing to open his own art museum. He’s written music, directed a film and, once upon a time, apprenticed as a potter.
He’s a polymath, a man of mixed parts and a counterculture legend.
And those who’ve only known Cheech Marin as a “slacker” culture hero, associated more with marijuana than high culture, it may be surprising that even launching his own range of cannabis accouterments, such as oils and vaporizers, may settle somewhere toward the end of a long list of accomplishments.
In his new memoir “Cheech is Not My Real Name … But Don’t Call Me Chong,” the now five-year resident of the Highlands has revealed the man behind the comic who gave stoners a verb of their very own—to “cheech” or inhale strongly.
Born Richard Anthony Marin, the 70-year-old earned his famous nickname “Cheech” as a baby when his Uncle Bano joked that the newborn looked like a chicharron—a deep-fried pigskin.
For the first nine years of his life, Marin grew up in a violent neighborhood of South Central Los Angeles. His father, Oscar, was a police officer, and when a murder took place in front of their home, he moved the family of six to the “countryside” of Granada Hills.
Breaking all “Reefer Madness” stereotypes, Marin was an altar boy, a Boy Scout, a straight-A student and attendee of San Fernando Valley State College (now known as Cal State, Northridge), with the goal of becoming a lawyer.
It was there, with only eight credits left until graduation, that Marin made a decision that would alter the entire course of his life.
At the time, the nation had been in political disarray over the Vietnam War, and with the peace movement in full bloom, Marin, without first consulting his friends or family, moved to the backwoods of Alberta, Canada.
“I didn’t dodge the draft,” Marin explained. “I, along with many others in the movement, was a draft resister—there’s a big difference there. We were fighting a war against people who wanted their independence—and that’s un-American, baby.”
After ditching his draft card, Marin worked a number of odd jobs, including one where he apprenticed under a ceramics artist.
“I always had an interest in pottery,” Marin said with a laugh. “In college, a cute girl told me she was taking pottery, so I took pottery—it’s always about a girl, isn’t it?”
In 1969, Marin moved westward to Vancouver.
There, he met Tommy Chong, a Canadian high school dropout and a rebel “longhair.”
Cheech was delivering carpet to Chong’s campy, family-run nightclub—a topless, “hippie burlesque” bar that hosted a troupe of nightly improv comics.
A natural story-teller, Marin dropped his job and joined Chong in his late-night raunch sessions, a friendship that grew into the acclaimed comedy duo “Cheech and Chong.”
The duo decided to take their act to the United States, but there was only one problem.
“I was a fugitive wanted by the FBI for my draft resistance activities,” Marin said ever so casually. “So, I snuck back into the country with a fake ID and determined myself a travelling music journalist. Later, when the U.S. Court of Appeals dropped my case, I rested, thinking it was all over.”
Only two weeks after reclaiming his impunity, Marin received a notice that required him to undergo an Army physical. As it turned out, his case dismissal was redeemed as “unclassified.”
“I ended up breaking my leg in a ski accident and was reclassified as unfit to serve,” Marin revealed with a wink. “Things happen in mysterious ways.”
The comedy duo went on to play shows in seedy bars and Hollywood nightclubs, such as the Troubadour, where record producer Lou Adler stumbled upon their show.
Adler, who founded Dunhill Records and produced Californian supergroup The Mamas and The Papas, offered Cheech and Chong a deal that they couldn’t refuse: $2,000 and a record contract.
From there, the rest—depending on your perspective, further evidence of the decline of western civilization or a rollicking good time—is history.
Cheech and Chong went on to make seven movies together—most notably their 1978 debut film “Up in Smoke”—which pushed them into the limelight as half-baked buddy stoners Pedro de Pacas (Cheech) and Anthony “Man” Stoner (Chong).
As the years went on, Cheech and Chong went their separate ways, and Marin transformed out of his long-revived role as Pedro de Pacas to an actor in dozens of films, eight of which were developed by Texas director Robert Rodriguez.
“Some of the most fun I’ve ever had was while working on the set of ‘Spy Kids,’” Marin said. “Until now, maybe.”
At the end of the month Marin will begin filming “War with Grandpa”—a comedy in which he and Christopher Walken play best friends to everybody’s favorite mobster-turned-naughty-grandpa, Robert De Niro.
“[In the movie] the three of us go head-to-head with a gang of schoolkids after De Niro takes over his grandson’s bedroom,” Marin revealed. “I don’t want to give away too much, but I’ll just tell you that there’s a scene where De Niro and I battle children in a bouncy house.”
But where Marin’s true passion lies isn’t listed on his filmography.
“I started collecting Chicano artwork about the same time I started on my solo career,” Marin recounted. “Today, I have about 800 pieces of artwork. I’m told that it’s the world’s largest private collection, but who’s keeping score?”
Developed during the El Movimiento of the 1960s, the statement of intent behind Chicano art is to raise social issues, from poverty to justice, that challenge Mexican-American communities.
“Chicano art is constantly evolving,” Marin said. “It will always be relevant, perhaps now more than ever, because Chicanos have become a part of the mainstream—although certain political leaders would like you to believe otherwise.”
In an effort to bring exposure to this collective, Marin formed the “Chicano Visions: American Painters on the Verge” exhibition, which toured numerous American cities from 2001 to 2007. He currently serves on the boards of the Smithsonian Latino Center and the Hispanic Scholarship Fund, and has been honored for his work with the Latino community.
And then, earlier this month, Marin received a phone call that surpassed all that came before it.
“So, the city [of Riverside] calls me up and says ‘Cheech, we want to open up a Chicano art museum with you,’” Marin told the Post.
The proposed Cheech Marin Cultural Center would be housed in the 61,000-square-foot space currently occupied by the Riverside Public Library. It will showcase a majority of the works that Marin has collected over the years.
“Well I figured it would help clear up some of the wall space in my home, Marin joked. “That would make my wife happy.”
Still in its early stages of planning, the city of Riverside, along with Marin and the Riverside Art Museum, will present a memorandum of understanding to the Riverside City Council, which has to approve the use of the building.
Upon approval, the three parties will have a year to determine costs, renovations and draft an agreement for how Marin’s collection will be presented.
Besides opening revolutionary cultural museums, filming movies alongside industry giants and being a family man to his wife, Natasha, and four children, Marin said he’s just looking to relax.
And what better way to unwind than with a medicinal treat from Marin’s cannabis line Cheech’s Private Stash?
But only on doctor’s orders, of course.
“There’s a bit that Tommy and I used to do where we’d joke about how marijuana was good for you,” Marin recalled. “Then we’d laugh and get all serious before posing the question: ‘But what if we’re right?’”
“Cheech is Not My Real Name … But Don’t Call Me Chong” is available wherever books are sold.
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