Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Once Upon A Time I Thought That I Was Cool (But I Don't Want to Brag)
Nearly fifteen years ago, I was routinely doing some dumb ass things. Things that I may not be technically "ashamed of", but I'm sure not proud of them, either. I guess that the most appropriate term would be "embarrassed". I am embarrassed my actions at that time.
And there is probably nothing that I am more embarrassed by than my former drug use.
Now, I'm not talking about the good stuff. Not the illicit substances smuggled across borders and sold on street corners.
I'm talking about the sad ass trucker speed cocktails I typically would procure at convenience stores. Boxes of asthma medication, stay-awake stimulants and various weight loss supplements that I'd heard would get me buzzing through my weekends.....never you mind that I was already naturally thin as a reed, and generally wound up tighter than your cousin's skinny jeans. Speed was not at all what I needed in my life.
It was a short period.....six months, max. I received no real benefit from the experience, and I have to admit that I course-corrected fairly promptly (though - in the spirit of full transparency - not until after I mixed Pimatine and Miller Lite one evening, only to lose control of my car on a back country road and drive myself into a speed limit sign that was well clear of where any car should have been).
It's all so embarrassing in retrospect. I had all of these aspirations of being a rock star or a scenester or a local celebrity of some sort....which is so painful to admit now that I'm in my late-30's and too tired for angst. But its the incorporation of fake drugs that really takes the cake.
How foolish. How unnecessary. How insecure. How much more desperate for an image could I have been?
I am still so embarrassed about it all.
And this leads me to Steven Tyler.
Now, this isn't about Tyler's decision to be a judge on American Idol. Because, frankly, by this point in time I don't really know how anyone on earth could feign shock or disappointment at Steven Tyler compromising his rock and roll cred. ("Rocks" was awesome and all.....)
I'm talking about an appearance Mr. Tyler made on Letterman last week, in which admitted that the circumstances of his erratic behavior last year were the result of drug use.
"Drug use?" I mused, as I lay on the couch. "This could be good."
What followed was, indeed, shocking: Mr. Tyler formally admitted that his famous Sturgis flop off the stage was the result of ..... wait for it.... Lunesta.
And not just taking Lunesta pills, but snorting them.
Now, allow me to be perfectly clear about one thing: I'm not proud of my failed attempts to become the Brian Jones of the Cough and Cold Aisle back in the day.
But I sure as hell know that if I had an army or roadies, employees and record company enablers at my disposal, I would have made it a point to step it up well past the pharmacy aisle and gotten something a little more worth wrecking my career over.
(As opposed to wrecking my car. Naturally.).
But that's just me. I was hopelessly insecure and desperate for validation, and doing ridiculous things each and every day so that people would continue to pay attention to me.
I doubt that Steven Tyler would know anything about that, would he?