MARTIN SHEEN BACKS 'BALL BAT' TO HELP DRUGGIES

TEHACHAPI--Actor Martin Sheen is sitting in the back seat of a rental car
and telling a favorite story. It's about the donkey.

"A guy buys a donkey. He's told it'll do anything and he gets it home and
the donkey just sits there. The guy orders it to do all kinds of things and
it does nothing. So he calls up the guy he bought the donkey from.

"The guy says, 'He won't do anything, huh?' 'No.' 'Well, I'll be right over.'

"He comes over and bashes the donkey between the eyes with a ball bat. And
the guy who bought the donkey says, 'Oh, Christ, you're gonna kill him!'

"He says, 'No. First you've got to get his attention.' "

The car erupts in laughter, mainly from two old Sheen friends sitting in
the front seat--Father Bill O'Donnell, a Catholic priest, and Dr. Davida
Coady, who treats drug addicts in Berkeley.

That's the actor's answer to my question about why he opposes Proposition
36, which would take away a judge's option to jail first- and second-time
hard drug offenders who are deemed nonviolent and aren't dealers. They'd
automatically be ordered into treatment. Even after a third conviction, a
druggie could be jailed for only 30 days.

Nobody opposes one feature of this ballot initiative: an extra $120 million
a year for drug treatment. But Sheen--President Josiah Bartlet on NBC's
"The West Wing"--doesn't like the idea of stripping judges of their ball bat.

"That jail will get your attention," he says. "I'm an alcoholic, you know,
and I can tell you from my own personal experience."

Did he ever get sent to jail? "Yes, I did. Several times. For being drunk
and disorderly. . . . It was one of the ball bats that gained my attention."

Sheen, 60, says he has been sober for about 11 years now.

Jail also got the attention of his son, actor Charlie Sheen. Dad turned him
in for violating probation and not following through with drug treatment.

"You're talking about [eventually] burying somebody. That's a helluva lot
harder than putting his ass in jail," Martin Sheen says.

"You have to love someone to risk their wrath in order to tell them the
truth . . . to tell them, 'You're living a lie.' I risked his hating me
forever and put his ass away. Because I couldn't get his attention. A judge
hammered him between the eyes with a ball bat and said, 'I've got your
attention now. What are you going to do?' And Charlie chose. But it's a
long process that's still going on, with all of us. Recovery is a lifelong
work."

He says Charlie has been clean 2 1/2 years. "We have a very open and honest
relationship now. Before, we did not."

Egos and self-pity hamper recovery for rich and poor, Sheen says. "Addicts
think, 'Well, I'm special. My father beat me.' Or my mother abandoned me.
Or my friends don't love me. Or my wife, my this, my ba ba ba ba. It's
endless. Death is the end if you don't reach recovery. It's that simple. It
will kill ya."

Sheen is a far-left liberal who has disappointed ideological cohorts by
becoming the most prominent opponent of Prop. 36. He joins company with
judges and prosecutors who contend the measure would cripple California's
relatively new, successful but underfunded drug court program, which offers
the carrot and stick of treatment or jail.

"I'm drawing a lot of heat," Sheen notes, "and it's mostly from very good
and decent, well-meaning, often liberal people who don't have a clue about
addiction of the poor. Because most of them have HMOs or enough money so
they can go to Betty Ford. Poor people, they've got a judge and he's their
best friend."

He adds: "I suspect a lot [of Prop. 36 backers] are interested in
legalizing drugs. This is the first step. Anybody's gotta be insane to want
to legalize drugs. They do so much damage. And why would you want to make
them more available to children?"

We're in remote Tehachapi--in the mountains between Mojave and
Bakersfield--because this is where Sheen offered to meet me. He was
skittish about talking on the phone. It was his first interview about Prop. 36.

The actor was here to attend the funeral Mass Friday of Linda Chavez
Rodriguez, daughter of the late farm union leader Cesar Chavez. In a new
book--"The Legacy of Cesar Chavez"--Sheen credits Chavez with inspiring him
to quit smoking. He'd met Chavez when the union leader was fasting. And
when the frail man kissed his hand, Sheen was embarrassed that it reeked of
nicotine. He hasn't lit up since.

Several politicians also were here and I asked "President Bartlet" whether
he'd ever thought about running for office. "Oh, God no. I leave that to
the professionals."

And he hopes drug treatment is left to the pros with a ball bat.