I grew up in the 80’s a big screen actor and producer’s son. There were no limits to the way we lived. The people surrounding me acted like they were going to live forever. But that was probably due to all the cocaine that flowed in on the daily breeze. Sure, from the outside everything looked fine and dandy.And I won’t lie, it certainly was a lot of fun. But after a certain point the fun stopped and an evil world took its place. Addictions to coke began to take hold on pretty much everyone I knew. Very successful people in the industry, who had the world in the palm of their hands, now had a coke addiction in the core of their beings. No one knew it would happen. It always started out innocently enough. Just try a little at a party and have a good time. Pretty soon meetings would be fueled by coke. Everyone thought that they were immune or not doing coke enough to become addicted. They told themselves that one toot in the morning to get going was normal and o.k. And then another one at lunch. And maybe a few in between meetings. But before anyone knew, it would be dark out, and that’s the time to party so… And in the 80’s it basically was normal, but never o.k.
Seeing coke addictions around me became more and more frequent. Everyone I knew, including my parents, were going nuts on the white stuff. Here I am, living the dream. The life that everyone envies. The life of a star… surrounded by a nightmare.
Addictions to cocaine, and by that I mean real life coke addictions, are not in any way shape or form something to aspire to. In fact they are downright ugly. I watched my own father, who was a big time producer, go from a successful and happy man to a depressed, maniacal, and nearly homeless cocaine addict. He was young and good looking. His cocaine addiction quickly thinned him out and made him look aweful. After a couple straight years of hard usage, he began losing big movie deals that eventually cost him and us, his family, everything we had. His losses drove him even harder into his addiction to coke and drove the rest of us out of a home. Not to mention the spotlight.
Luckily my father had real friends who cared about him. One of his old buddies who he grew up with, who happened to be a house painter, convinced my parents to go on a little “vacation” with him to Florida. Meanwhile I stayed with my uncle in Wyoming. They came back six months later, fresh out of rehab, looking healthy and renewed. My dad secured a new movie deal right off the bat and we were back on track.
I learned the hard way that cocaine is not something to be messing with. Cocaine addictions come on without notice and don’t let go of you without a fight. My family must endure a lot of pressure from many different sources. And now that coke is thankfully out of the picture, we are able to handle the pressure with more ease. Now that I’ve grown up and stepped into my father’s producing shoes, he’s been able to relax a little more often. I look at him with sad admiration as I see a man who got old and torn down before his time, but won a hard battle that many others lose.
