By narrating this bizarre series of events, it’s as if Robin Williams, a recovering addict himself, was yelling: “You wanna know what it’s like being high people? Those other documentaries are lame! Being high is dressing in surgical scrubs and being completely defeated by an Allen wrench while trying to assemble a particle board bookcase in the middle of a futuristic looking laboratory surrounded by models with clipboards. You gotta show it for real man!”
At the end of the show, when the fog machine smoke had cleared and the crack addict was the only one who managed to move the appliances up the stairs, which the pothead found to be a riot, the big Dr. Drew reality check moment came; except with a fat, Indian version of television’s favorite addiction doc. Referring to the clipboards of evidence from the day’s activities, each addict was confronted with the reality of their situation – this is your brain on drugs and you’re going to die. What Indian Dr. Drew got in return, were four individuals in denial.
This could easily be one of my new favorite holiday specials, right up there with Home Alone and It’s a Wonderful Life. During the holiday season in particular, denial is served up like a side dish alongside the Thanksgiving turkey.
I’m sure my credit card isn’t maxed out yet. It’s okay to stuff my face for two solid months because on January 2nd I will buy that gym membership and become a bona fide professional athlete by Valentine’s Day. Of course the holidays are the most joyous time of the year and I love every member of my family, now would somebody please run to the pharmacy and get me that Prozac refill? Even Santa Claus Sandusky, friend to all the little children in the land, denies anything more than “horsing around” with the little tikes, as the ring of cohorts who protected him are one by one placed on the “naughty” list. It’s no surprise that, as the congressional un-super heroes on the Super Committee couldn’t figure out what to do about America’s debt, regular citizens line up to sleep overnight and inflate their own personal debts. All I want for Christmas is an oversized spandex body suit and hockey mask so I can be the dumpy “bad credit” loser on the free credit score commercial.
As the stockings are hung and high profile folks try not to be, political candidates deny affairs, Conrad Murray denies killing Michael Jackson, Lindsay pulls out yet another get out of jail free card, and Ashton denies cheating on Demi (but does admit to being out of control with his rabid Tweeting addiction). Everyone’s in the holiday spirit of denial!
Santa Claus is fatter, drunker on egg nog, higher from the toy factory fumes and more in debt than ever. Dr. Drew doesn’t have a fighting chance of talking any sense into us until at least Memorial Day.
I even made my own personal denial list and I checked it twice… before tossing it into the fireplace. Because Thursday heralded the beginning of six glorious weeks, where all of life’s sins and worries can be instantly erased with the right combination of Christmas music, sugar cookies and twinkling lights.
Drink up and dig in everyone! Just don’t hand me an Allen wrench and ask me to build a damn bookcase.
Christine Whitmarsh is the owner of local writing firm Christine, Ink. She can be reached at email@example.com.