Goddammit, but everyone does cocaine. Ever since I joined a publication that chronicles the lifestyles of the young and the gorgeous, this has been probably the most surprising aspect of this new milieu I move in. You may not be aware of this, but I guarantee you, that actor you love? That actress you think is the next big thing? The band you really dig? The writer you feel like you know? They are all off their tits on blow. I do see the attraction to this lifestyle, insofar as everyone in New York City is doing bumps in the bathroom all the time, and so if you were to want to socialize in New York City it might behoove you to do bumps in the bathroom as well. (Indeed, one pastime my wife and I enjoy is estimating how much coke I’d be doing if I weren’t married and living on Long Island.) But as evidenced by the behavior of everyone from Colin Farrel to Marilyn Manson to the men and women of Fleetwood Mac, cocaine is nothing more or less than the world’s most expensive method of becoming an asshole. Lorne Michaels once said that cocaine is God’s way of telling you you have too much money (he should know), and I’ve got to agree with him. Can you imagine if all these line-snorting socialites spent their money on something worthwhile, like Bide-a-Wee or Fantagraphics? Instead, they’re out buying eightballs and assuring people how much they looooved their last movie.
On the other hand, cocaine is probably the number-one source of the renewed interest in Gary Numan records. So, carry on snowblind!