In the wake of Paris Hilton’s cocaine bust - and the 29-year-old’s subsequent conviction for possession of the party favor - I have been inclined to reflect on the insidious drug and its potent ability to seduce - and ultimately - addict.
Why insidious?
Unlike a fistful of other designer drugs that splash onto the nightclub scene to enhance the senses for a few short hours on a frenzied dance floor behind heavily-guarded doors - cocaine (a pricey white powder that is usually snorted up the nose) - is in for the long haul.
Having grown up in the sixties - in an era of peace, love, and Jimmy Hendrix - it was a given that the temptation of mood or mind-altering substances (organic or whipped up in a lab by an inventive chemical genius) would rear its ugly head.
In my instant case, friends at a Christmas party in Kitsilano (Vancouver, B.C.), coaxed me into taking a toke on a big fat joint, and I ended up flat on my ass lost in the intricate pattern of an exquisite Persian rug.
At 15, I was pretty impressionable with defenses down, for sure.
But, obviously it was the DMT-cured marijuana that left me “stoned” (an expression of the day) for three days straight.
I was clueless and a tad naïve when I was a teen because I was raised in sheltered environs in the burbs.
In fact, I recall one incident that unfolded in the locker room at Humberside High (!) that makes me shake my head in disbelief when I look back.
On that specific occasion, a fellow student dashed up out-of-the-blue with, and blurted out a puzzling message.
“The gym teacher is a narc,” she hissed at me.
Understandably, I sheepishly froze on the spot; after all, I didn’t know what a “narc” was.
A year or so later - I’d come of age in that regard - shortly after I joined the exodus to the West Coast (Canada) and dropped out to become a hippie.
Although my lifestyle changed - to one that was more condusive to the creative spirit - my lack of interest in the drug culture intensified.
In contrast - my bohemian pals - not only continued to puff away - but moved on to experiment with an exotic array of mind-blowing illegal substances such as window-pane LSD, MDA, and Mescaline.
And, on one desperate occasion, downed some elephant tranquilizer, with staggering results.
No kidding.
The release of the film - “Performance“ (starring Mick Jagger in the role of a reclusive rock star) - prompted adventurous merry pranksters to also gobble down magic mushrooms (which they stumbled on by accident on vacant land overgrown with foliage alongside an airstrip at the Vancouver airport).
In those heady carefree days, critics of the burgeoning Mary-Jane culture, warned that smoking marijuana (or hashish) would open the door to harder drugs such as cocaine and heroin.
Hippies, fans of rock ‘n roll, exalted figureheads of the underground head culture - and a host of other liberated spirits - scoffed at the notion.
Even still - the hilarious lop-sided attitudes expressed in classic flicks like “Reefer Madness” a decade earlier - persisted in perpetuating wild myths about the alleged “killer weed”.
Unfortunately, one prediction appeared to ring true, after I took off the “rose-colored” glasses and faced the truth cold turkey.
It didn’t escape my attention that a number of friends and acquaintances ended up addicted to cocaine - in spite of the fact they swore up-and-down in their innocent teens - that smoking marijuana would never take them down that treacherous path.
In fact, when I trekked up to Vancouver last vacation, I was taken aback at what I encountered, when I dropped by a long-time pal’s digs near Kitsilano Beach.
It was like stepping into a time warp!
The walls were splattered with a smattering of psychedelic posters graced with images of legendary bands such as Led Zeppelin and the awesome rock Diva Janis Joplin & the Holding Company), curtains crafted in sprightly-colored beads (purchased at one of the head shops on 4th Avenue no doubt) were strung up in doorway frames where they doubled as eye-catching crash-pad dividers, a lava lamp continued to transform its contents at a snail’s pace, and drug paraphernalia - a small mirror with traces of white power skimming the surface, razor blades, and a straw (crudely-fashioned out of paper money) - signaled the tell-tale signs of cocaine use.
One of the prime reasons cocaine is such a difficult “monkey” to shake off the back - is in large part due to the fact - “blow” tends to be mind-addicting.
Once the seductive drug has washed over the senses and elevated the user to a high on the edge of Nirvana, the addict is inclined to wallow in the sheer ecstasy of the fleeting moment.
Some kinkier users allege that rubbing cocaine on their sexual organs actually heightens sexual pleasure during love-making.
But, too much of the potent white powder may cause a posse of dudes to suffer from soft-dick syndrome until they “come down” a notch or two.
Unfortunately, when the drug wears off, many users are plunged into depression that is sobering, too.
What cures that ill?
A line of coke, you betcha!
Uh-huh.
Coupled with that downer, the cocaine-addicted are faced with another never-ending dilemma.
A stronger dose of the trendy “snuff” must be ingested to attain the previous level of drug-induced euphoria once tapped at lower dosages.
At this juncture, the addict becomes ensnared, caught in the drug’s stranglehold.
The cost of sustaining the habit may sky-rocket as the hunger for coke increases.
In addition, habitual drug use may negatively impact other areas of the addict’s life.
For starters, the user may start to suffer from nose bleeds,
A handful of sensitive individuals may develop nervous ticks and sensitivity to bright lights.
Hence, the dark shades many addicts wear, even in-doors.
Long-term use may cause mental and emotional problems to surface, too.
In that event, addicts are rarely capable of escaping cocaine’s far-reaching clutches.
In a twisted sort-of-way, Paris was lucky to be “busted”.
Now, under the glare of the spotlight, the pretty heiress will be forced to take appropriate steps (12?) to lick her craving for killer drugs like cocaine.
Is there another reality show on the horizon?
Lindsay's Euphoric moments!
