Pubdate: Tue, 12 Jul 2016
Source: StarPhoenix, The (CN SN)
Page: A2
Copyright: 2016 The StarPhoenix
Contact:  http://thestarphoenix.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/400
Author: Dawn Dumont

TEENS NEED TOUGH TALK ON DRUGS AND WEINERS

My nieces and nephews are getting to the age where kids experiment 
with drugs and it's scary. How do you discourage them when movies and 
TV make it all look so interesting and fun? Damn you to hell, Seth Rogen!

I am especially at a loss because I've never understood drugs in the 
first place. I was not a drug user for a few reasons - the first of 
which was absolute fear. My mom did a great job of cobbling together 
every terrible drug story she'd ever heard and regaling us with them 
as we ate our beans and wieners at the dinner table: "This boy, he 
did 'The Pot' one time and he got real high and then he put the cat 
in the oven cuz he thought it was a turkey." Such stories made me 
fearful both of drugs and of wieners.

The second reason was that drugs seemed to exist exclusively in the 
realm of "cool" people. At my school, the cool kids stood behind the 
school, in leather jackets with the sleeves cut off or jean jackets 
with the sleeves cut off. (Cool at that time was very 
sleeve-specific.) In order to access drugs, I would have to walk 
behind the school, where they stood, and make a deal. I could barely 
order milk at lunch without stammering and that was from a nerd!

Oddly enough, I never thought about the fact that drugs are 
essentially illegal and buying them is against the law. For some 
reason that just doesn't enter your mind when you're a teenager. I 
think maybe teens need to watch less Miley Cyrus videos and more 
prison movies like Shawshank Redemption.

I did participate in a drug deal. Once. I was 16, driving around in a 
car with some friends and my cousin Sandra. Marijuana entered the 
conversation. Normally when that idea was raised, it was just as 
easily dismissed because I did not know anyone who smoked pot, never 
mind sold it. But there were new kids in the car and they swiftly 
directed me to the town's drug dealer.

They pointed at the house and I recognized it. I said to Sandra, 
"Isn't that cousin Marie's house?" She nodded.

"Right, Marie. She's the dealer." This came from one of our more 
knowledgeable passengers.

Marie wasn't a close family relation. She was my aunt's stepdaughter, 
somewhat estranged after their marriage broke up but still family. 
Marie had babysat me when I was a kid. I remembered riding on her 
shoulders before she dropped me and got yelled at by my aunt (her stepmom).

Because we appeared to know Marie the best, it was suggested that 
Sandra and I do the drug deal. I did not want to do it. I'm not the 
most socially adept person but I figured that buying drugs from a 
distant family relation would get a bit awkward. However, I also knew 
that socially I was always riding the line between possibly cool and 
spending the rest of my teens eating chips alone in my room while 
reading romance novels. I agreed to go.

Money was handed to us and we walked up to the front door. Marie 
opened the door and a big smile filled her face. She ushered us in 
and sat us down. While we drank tea, she asked about our families and 
we caught her up. Sandra and I kept looking at the clock - thinking 
about the people sitting out in the car waiting for us. But Marie 
didn't notice. She brought out a family album and then another one. 
We leafed through the pictures - each of us wondering when the 
subject of drugs would be brought up.

After a couple hours, Marie walked us to the door and thanked us for 
coming. Just before we crossed the threshold, I stopped. "There's one 
more thing ..."

Sandra looked at me and I could see her eyes begging me to keep my 
mouth shut, but I was determined to get this over with: "Marie - I 
never blamed you for dropping me as a kid."

Marie did not remember the incident but she thanked me for my forgiveness.

Outside, our friends were rather perturbed. In fact, two of them had 
ditched us. I could understand their impatience. This was back in the 
days when people didn't have fancy phones to mess around with so two 
hours was more like 15 hours of hard waiting.

Unfortunately, my nieces and nephews are not growing up in a place 
where the most dangerous drug available is marijuana and the town 
drug dealer knows your mom.

Innocent experimentation can lead to permanent injuries and even 
death. I wish the movies would talk about that once in a while.

But I guess hammering home the dangers is our job and if you want it 
done right - my mom is always available for house calls.
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MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom