I'm Waiting for my Man

"Outside the door, she took four more. What a drag it is getting old." From "Mother's Little Helper" by The Rolling Stones.

Ripped from the headlines: Los Angeles Angels pitcher Tyler Skaggs dies from accidental overdose. I saw this come across the crawler on both FS1 and ESPN yesterday. The first thing that came to mind is that it's a redundant statement. There's no such thing as an accidental overdose. It's just an overdose. If your dealer gives you a hot shot, you call it murder. If you intentionally snort or shoot junk, there's no accident involved. I read the summary of the coroner's report. Fentanyl, Oxycodone and alcohol were found in Tyler's system. He died chocking in his own vomit, asphyxiation. Just like Jimi Hendrix and Bradley Nowell of Sublime. It can happen to anybody. You too.

The opioid crisis isn't new, and there's a lot of blame to go around. Johnson & Johnson was just ordered to pay $572 million for their involvement, and in my opinion, they got off practically scot-free. Then there's the doctors who overprescribe the medication. I had major cancer surgery 10 years ago and my doctors gave me Oxycodone for just one day after the operation. That's it. It was 600 milligrams of Ibuprofen as needed after that. They were looking out for me and I thank them. That's all I need is a monkey on my back.

Drug culture didn't become mainstream until the 1960's. Before that, you'd see a movie such as The Man with a Golden Arm starring Frank Sinatra in the 1950's where Ol' Blue Eyes was shooting up on the silver screen. It seemed like another planet. Now heroin use is everywhere, and permeates every social strata in America. You can't just blame the drug companies and the Dr. Benway's of this world. (Dr. Benway is an ongoing character in William Burroughs' novels including The Naked Lunch and lacks a conscience. He's more interested in himself than his patients).

My first introduction to painkillers goes back to early 1976. I had a serious knee injury from playing football that required surgery. My medial meniscus cartilage was removed. That connective tissue maintains the stability in the knee joint, and as a result, I've had a bad wheel since high school. After the operation, I was prescribed a vial of Percocet. I looked forward to cranking some Aerosmith Get Your Wings while convalescing with my medicinal. Much to my chagrin, when I got home from the hospital, my father confiscated the medication, and tossed it in the trash. He explained to me in stern terms that it was addicting, and I would just have to tough it out with over-the-counter pain killers like Tylenol. Disappointed? Sure, but you didn't question your parents in those days.

Two things come to mind here:

• Number one is that Baby Boomer parents, also known a Helicopter Parents, have raised a generation of children who can't take "no" for an answer. Everyone's a winner. Trophies for everybody. In reality, there's no second prizes for the loser. It's a winner take all society. Remember this line from Glengarry Glen Ross: "We're adding a little something to this month's sales contest. As you all know, first prize is a Cadillac Eldorado. Anybody want to see second prize? Second prize is a set of steak knives. Third prize is you're fired.". I don't mean to broad-brush the manner in which my contemporaries reared their children, but many are to blame for a lack of discipline. This can lead to drug abuse in some instances. I never had children, so maybe I'm being off base here, but it's what I believe.
• Number two is that kids are much more mature and aware at a younger age than we ever were. Even if you came from a single parent household, and didn't have a drug prevention course in your high school, a teenager today knows which way the wind is blowing in regards to opioid use. Being consumed by creative content such as movies, television programs and YouTube videos, you can't miss the overt message that heroin is bad. This isn't subliminal seduction. It's right there in front of your nose in every visual medium. Yet, popping pills, snorting and shooting remain a popular pastime.

Sure, opioid manufacturers are partially to blame. There's also an occasional Dr. Benway lurking in the background trying to get enough money to help a paramour, or, payoff a gambling debt, but I believe in the Hippocratic Oath of "do no harm". Doctors want to heal. It's the individual's responsibility to take care of business. I'm not buying into the myth that a millennial that's been weaned on television shows such as C.S.I. Crime Scene Investigation and N.C.I.S. doesn't know that controlled substances are bad for you. Peer pressure can't be that overwhelming.

I lived in the inner city of two East Coast metropolises for a number of years. The concrete jungle. Living on the lunatic fringe trying to make it as writer. I've known junkies. Back in the day they'd site movies like Drugstore Cowboy and Trainspotting which rationalized heroin addiction. When the Chet Baker revival surfaced in the early 90's, some of the hopheads I knew wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, just like Chet (Chet Baker was a critically acclaimed jazz musician with a habit from the Eisenhower era that died at 59). The rationalization was who wants to live past 60? One got his wish. Dead of a heart attack before he qualified for AARP. I miss him to this day because he was my friend.

A candy-colored clown they call the sandman
Tiptoes to my room every night
Just to sprinkle star dust and to whisper
"Go to sleep, everything is alright"

That last quote is courtesy of Roy Orbison from In Dreams which reached number 7 on the Billboard Hot 100 charts back in 1963. It gained a cult following in 1986 from being featured in the neo-noir thriller Blue Velvet, a movie I enjoyed at the time of release. I also enjoyed Tom Petty, Prince, and Scott Weiland from Stone Temple Pilots. Great artists whose lives were cut short from narcotics. You've heard the expression, "Live fast, die young, and have a good-looking corpse". It's never been more relavent. Nancy Reagan launched the “Just Say No” campaign in 1986. How's that working out?