HATE THE DRUG, NOT THE ADDICT

He had called me to meet him at a nearby mall, his voice sharp and
pinched and breathless.

When I arrived, he climbed into the passenger seat, a day's worth of
stubble on his face and a tremor in his hands that was alarmingly violent.

Addicts, when they need their fix, can be a disconcerting
sight.

The story he had this time was that his prescription had run out and
his doctor had phoned in a new one, but he didn't have the cash.

Could I lend him 20 bucks?

"Lend" is a subjective term when it comes to the people in your life
who drift in and out at intervals measured in months or years. I gave
him $40 and he headed into the strip mall at 10 o'clock on a Saturday
morning.

I waited. And when he returned, his hunched posture had been replaced
with a confident strut, the grimace had bloomed into a polished smile,
and when his hands reached out to embrace me, they were rock-steady
and strong.

My dad, an alcoholic, had paid a visit to the liquor
store.

He had rejoined the land of the living, and no one (save me) was the
wiser.

Many addicts aren't as fortunate.

They've "picked" the wrong substance to love; the methamphetamine that
caused one teen I know to pick holes the size of quarters in his skin;
the crack cocaine that prompts its prey, delusional and tweaking, to
sift through gravel in search of ghost rocks; the heroin that seduces
with the promise of release yet delivers nothing but captivity.

Only drinkers, gamblers - and until recently, smokers - are able
to partake of their poison in elegant style.

Boozers can shop leisurely at the liquor store.

They can saddle up at the mahogany bar and exchange pleasantries with
their fellow pub-goers, surrounded by sparkling bottles and cocooned
in the warm thrum of conversation.

In the casino, the flashy slots and bow-tied dealers make blowing the
paycheque a sophisticated game.

Certainly, as with all addiction, which is a progressive disease, the
seedy side will eventually emerge.

The 12-year-old scotch will give way to rice wine; the house will be
mortgaged and family lost to blackjack.

But until they hit bottom, "the good junkies" will be spared the
bitter ostracism that is a part of other addicts' lives.

Due to the nature of crack and heroin - their illegality,
fluctuating purity and effects on the brain - users quickly descend
to desperate levels.

They sell their bodies.

They rob your house.

Decriminalization?

No, but de-stigmatizing would be a good start, and targeting
recovering heroin addicts like Surrey is doing - by hiking methadone
dispensary licence fees and trying to outlaw take-home prescriptions
- - does nothing to encourage the regional drug strategy Surrey Mayor
Doug McCallum says he supports.

When I think of my dad, who tested my patience on many occasions but
nonetheless still held my heart, the equation is simple. Hate the
drug, not the drug addict.