How much tragedy can a single person undergo before they crack? How does someone surrounded by death and disease hang onto a little bit of hope? Mark Pedersen grew up in a small town poisoned by a local lead smelter. He can point to any house on his street and name from what illness its inhabitants died. But in the wake of a family death, and his own fibromyalgia diagnosis, he found comfort in a pain-reducing substance with a troubled history in America: cannabis. Pedersen harnessed its power to help family after family dealing with similar hardships to his own. Until one day, a tragedy struck that forever changed him. His story must be read to be understood. It's linked below. – Chris Hatler, deputy editor |
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Mark Pedersen grew up in a midwestern town poisoned by lead. In search of meaning, he started treating chronically ill kids using medical marijuana—until one of them died. Then the law came after him. |
In the years following Rachel's death, Mark Pedersen began his cannabis caregiving practice. He gravitated toward helping kids and their parents, because he knew exactly what it felt like to have and lose a child whose life was marred by chronic pain. But marijuana was illegal in Missouri, so Pedersen engaged in political activism to change state legislation. For one of his first efforts, Pedersen took part in Journey for Justice 7 in 2006, a monthslong cross-country bike ride that raised national awareness on the efficacy of medical marijuana. Afterward, Denver-area caregivers who were connected to the event urged him to move to Colorado to assist with the emerging medical-marijuana movement. He tried, but the altitude exacerbated his fibromyalgia; his lungs ached and breathing was difficult. He returned to Missouri, this time to the town of Kirkwood, where he would live for another seven years. From his modest apartment, he made cannabis oil, wrote legislation, documented patient success stories, and traveled for advocacy with money he earned through sponsorships. In 2012, he authored a ballot initiative called Show-Me Cannabis—a referendum that would prevent arrests for growing and consuming cannabis—but the measure didn't receive enough signatures to advance to the ballot. He was also pressured by his landlord to shut down his cannabis garden. Pedersen would have to up and move to Colorado—this time, he intended, for good. |
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Golf, like every other sport, is on the hunt for younger viewers. And at this point, it looks like the agreed-upon solution is team golf. It's better for TV, better for social media, and when you watch something like Ryder Cup, just more liable to get far-reaching attention. As with everything in golf, it falls on recently drawn party lines. LIV Golf—the Saudi Public Investment Fund-backed competitor to the PGA Tour—is trying to market itself with team uniforms and a Frankensteined team-slash-solo setup. On the other side, there's TMRW Golf League (TGL), which is funded by the PGA Tour, Tiger Woods, Rory McIlroy, and a handful of America's biggest sports team investors. It's a similar concept to the LIV playbook—engineer the game feel faster so it's better for screens—but plays with a simulator screen and morphable green. It's weird, and I had to get used to it. But it's weird in the right direction. I think it's got a better chance of survival than LIV Golf, so you might want to get acquainted. |
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Kevin Zegers fought like hell for his role on The Madison. At first, he didn't think he was right for the part of cowboy Cade Harris—and neither did creator Taylor Sheridan. "The response was like, 'He's great, but not for this,'" Zegers tells me. But something compelled the actor to get back on the horse and chase the role anyway. "I didn't really want the job," he says, laughing. That's the funniest part to him, looking back. "I just felt like I knew what his purpose was in the story," he says, "and the only way I could prove that was to sort of say, 'Not that I think you're wrong, but I know I can do this.'" It wasn't until Zegers was standing next to Michelle Pfeiffer in the fields of Montana's Madison River Valley that it finally hit him. The role—a helpful stranger who guides Pfeiffer's character through a journey of helplessness and grief—was a perfect fit. "It's not a secret," Zegers admits now, "but yeah, that's just most of my life." |
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