I’ll Drink to That

Marquel, TPVs NYTimes Let’s Get Stoned Section correspondent, was calling his dealer friend to complain about the quality of the latest patch of pot delivered when he experienced a headache and a terrible hangover. Then, he spotted A Different Path to Fighting Addiction, and felt relieved.

Suddenly. A growing wing of addiction treatment rejects the Alcoholics Anonymous model of strict abstinence as the sole form of recovery for alcohol and drug users. In fact it turns out that three quarters of so called alcoholics stop drinking on their own and half of them avoid alcoholism but drink moderately and socially for the rest of their lives. The TSP (Twelve Step Program), led by AA, has little scientific validity, was invented in 1935 with no evidence to support it, and has not changed since.

Marquel ate a raw egg followed by a chaser of black coffee and absinthe, and re-read the article. Most of it made sense. Marquel knew many heavy drinkers who tried AA and eventually left saying it wasn’t for them. About half of the twelve steps involve something called god, which Marquel knew not to exist, so he was wondering how anybody with eyes and ears, let alone a brain, could find anything worth thinking about in AA. Simply stated, AA is based on superstition.

Marquel thought science and medicine could certainly do better.

But Marquel never trusts the New York Times so he knew he’d have to personally investigate this confusion. He went down to that night’s AA meeting to talk to some people. They were pretty defensive but when he promised not to use descriptions or names they let him in. They even made him talk.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m Marquel and I’m not an alcoholic.” I looked at the audience and they were kind of squirming, so I decided to have a little fun. “I do take a drink now and then. A gin and tonic in the summer with a twist of lime, and I sit on my veranda and watch the sailboats glide by. It’s so pleasant, sometimes I have a second.” There were groans and one man, well, I guess I should say or woman, held his head. That seemed enough but I couldn’t resist a bit more.

“Otherwise, I limit myself to a nice Leffe – Belgian beer or two at the bar while I watch Germany kill Brazil. With my buddies. We toast the various teams, slap each other on the back and buy each other a few more rounds. Then I go home, go to sleep, and feel great in the morning.” I was hustled off the stage, or at least from the front of the room. They seemed angry.

“I don’t understand this AA business,” I said.

“You seem to understand too much. That was cruel,” one said.

“How’s that?” I asked. “Doesn’t the goal of AA mean that you can integrate into the community and mix with drinkers even if you don’t drink yourself?”

“We just think that was over the top. You were teasing,” one said.

“That’s not true,” I said. “I was testing. It’s important to know whether AA really produces cured alcoholics or fearful addicts.”

“That’s unfair, too,” he or she said. “Once an alcoholic always an alcoholic. We don’t cure alcoholics, we make them ready to cope in an alcoholic world. Alcoholism can’t be cured.”

“That’s why I came here,” I said. They all looked at me. “Some people seem to think it can be cured. And they’re having great success.”

“Those people are nuts,” another said.

“I don’t think so,” I said, “they are researchers and therapists and they have great success treating people to live with alcohol in moderation. They also don’t find it necessary to practice so called tough love and treat real love as if it is enabling the client. Everyone deserves real love without it being called something negative like enabling.”

They looked at me as if I were a Martian. So I changed topics a bit.

“What’s the deal with the God thing? Why do you need God to get better? When you have a cold do you take medicine or pray?” I asked.

“Both,” they all said.

“That’s interesting,” I said, “because I just take medicine and I’ll bet I get better as fast as you. You don’t think there’s any medical evidence that God cures people faster than penicillin, do you?”

I was clearly still a Martian.

“You know, sometimes when I have a cold,” I said, “I actually curse God. If I could find him I’d throw him out of the house on his ass. It’s antibiotics for me all the way. Actually, when they invented penicillin, I think millions of people cheered. They didn’t do that when they invented God, did they?”

“God wasn’t invented. He exists and is the only source of help an alcoholic can hope to have,” said one.

“So, you don’t help each other? Then what’s the point of the meetings? Just to embarrass people to death?” I asked

“Of course we help. But god is the source,” he answered.

“If I were an alcoholic, I’d want somebody other than God to help me. You know God doesn’t even exist don’t you?”

They looked at me as if I were giving a bad name to Martians. “Well, it’s a long story I can’t go into now, but God actually came to me one night and insisted he didn’t exist. So I am at least one person who knows for sure.”

“You’re nuts,” said the first one.

“Why don’t we all go out and have a drink?” I asked. They all stood up. I thought I should, too, and walked out.

I went to one of the MM (moderation) meetings I had read about in the Times. They are the alternative to AA. They don’t believe on blaming the so-called enabler, and think that so-called alcoholics can function fine while still drinking as long as they keep it less than 14 drinks a week and avoid binge drinking. Those are my kind of people.

I had an appointment with the leader of the night before the meeting started.

“So what’s the deal with God and AA?” I asked. “It’s kind of a strange mix, and it seems to me that it substitutes one addiction for another.”

“You think religion is an addiction?” he asked.

“Well,” I said, “ I never thought about it but now that you mention it, in this context perhaps it is.”

“Then, I guess the scientific question would be to examine the pros and cons of the two addictions,” he said, ever the scientist.

“Has anyone studied that?” I asked.

“Not really,” he said, “we are too busy trying to find therapies that work. But it is an interesting question.”

“Speaking of questions, I have a few about MM. For instance how come your patients can keep drinking but AA patients can’t?”

“We don’t really know that AA patients can’t. We know that they’re told not to, but nobody has ever tested it. Nobody’s ever tested anything AA does. It’s not what we call evidence based medicine.” he said.

“And yours is?” I asked.

“Nothing but,” he said. “We look at our results constantly, and publish. Something that AA does very little of.”

“Plus you don’t have God to fuck up your work.” I said.

“Well some of us have God and others don’t, but it’s not an integral part of our procedures,” he said.

“Let’s leave that alone. I just got thrown out of an AA meeting after I told them I talked to God.”

“You did?” he asked. “do you do it often? What do you talk about?”

“No, not often, in fact that would be impossible. He told me he didn’t exist and poof, disappeared. If he doesn’t exist, how could I continue talking with him?” I asked.

“Are you okay?” he asked, “Would you like some wine?”

“Why yes, if we can share it.” I said.

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s good Pouilly Fuisse.”

“Chin chin,” we both said. And down the hatch.

“So what else do you want to know?” he asked.

“Only one thing,” I said. “Were you ever an alcoholic?”

“If by alcoholic you mean uncontrolled drinking to excess, inability to function, and binge drinking to boot, I guess the answer is yes,” he said, rolling the glass around to admire the wine’s legs, and smelling its bouquet.

“Well, then, I’ve got all the answers I need,” I said. We both drank to that. “Let’s have a drink someday in a cozier environment.”

He nodded yes, and I went out the door. I was still wondering about the God thing and was sure that if He had been there, it wouldn’t have been half the fun.

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BY MARQUEL: I’ll Drink to That