An author’s note
The people that I write about are all fictional. But I knew them all.
A moment of truth.
I became a drug addict when I was forty –two. Up until that time I was a very successful dog trainer, song writer, and businessman. I tried cocaine a few times and was hooked. In the eight years that followed, I smoked cocaine day and night. I became helplessly addicted, as I went through three quarters of a million dollars. I became a pusher, and a smuggler. I lost touch with my children, and everyone who was decent in my life.
The final three years of my existence I became homeless in New York City.
Living on the streets I grew to know the many dregs of humanity. I was one of them, and I was an observer. The day I turned fifty I stopped.
There are many more stories to tell, but these tragic lives will have to do for now.
"Broken Flowers” comes from my heart. Parents be aware of what your children are doing, and never give up on them. Those of you who think you just want to experiment, beware. The experiment just might blow up in your face. And for those of you who are hooked, stop. Reach out for any help you can find, and fight the drug. You CAN get your life back.
The drug and alcohol crisis in this country is catastrophic. Hundred of thousands of lives are ruined. Thousands of lives are lost.
Billions of dollars are expended, between the purchase of addictive drugs, rehabilitation efforts, and incarceration. The money helps fund organized crime, and terrorism.
Parents, to quote Crosby, stills, Nash and Young; “Teach your children well, their father’s hell did slowly go by.”
We are first adult generation of the drug pandemic.
Who among us doesn’t know someone that’s been infected by it.
Preach to your children. Watch for signs. Be paranoid. Forget the politically correct concept of juvenile privacy. You had that child!
Bring them to adulthood safely!