faults in the reflection

 

People get mad at me
When I say what they see,
Not what they say.

Maybe what they think?

Because, sometimes,
It’s no fun being me.
I had always been told
It’s who I should always be.

The harvest of listening

 The harvest of listening

When you think you're alone,

In a field of your thoughts,

Feeling like an unknown,

Where just an ear is sought.

So when someone is there,

Who is having a hard time,

Just show that you care,

They are still in their prime.

—-Riley Chambers 4-12-26

(Just a poem, not autobiographical)
Photo taken by my youngest son 

Never trust a junkie.....

I think everyone who knows me is aware of my fandom for the Sex Pistols. It goes back as far as I can remember, listening to them on Z-Rock back in the day during one of "Crankin' Craig's" shows. I’ve always been fascinated by the band, its members, and the story behind their brief career.

Back then, because I didn't have the access to information I do now, I lacked a full understanding of the life Sid Vicious lived—albeit a very short one—and the way he died. When I was younger, I idolized him for the look and demeanor I saw at the time. However, as I grew older and moved past that adolescent mindset, my perspective changed. For a long time, I held negative thoughts about him because he was an addict.

The more I read, the more interviews I heard, and the more background I learned about how things really played out, the more my outlook shifted. I used to think he was just an addict who died doing stupid things and that it was entirely his fault. I always believed that if you’re an addict—no matter the substance—it is totally up to you to quit and seek the help you need. Over the years, I’ve realized that under certain circumstances, the blame can be divided.

Specifically, regarding Sid Vicious and his addiction: When Sid joined the band, he wasn’t addicted to heroin. Technically, his name wasn’t even Sid Vicious; Johnny Rotten named him after his hamster, who (in Rotten's words) had no teeth and couldn’t fight his way out of a paper crisp bag. But once Sid met certain people and started trying things to fit in, it led to his addiction. He began leading a life that changed him into someone who didn’t seem to fit his original character.

Malcolm McLaren, the manager of the Sex Pistols, took Sid's naivety and exploited it. He made Sid feel like he was the "bad boy" and that nothing could stop him. McLaren put that image in his head, and Sid started to believe it. The drug addiction only amplified the persona he became. From everything I have read, almost everyone around him fed that addiction—whether it was the people he hung around with, Malcolm, Nancy Spungen, or even his own mother.

This leads to my updated view on where to place the blame. As I originally said, a person is responsible for their own life. If someone needs to quit, they must want to quit before they can overcome that addiction. But if the addiction is so severe that they cannot stop on their own, they need a support system. They need a friend or family member to help them find a light at the end of the tunnel that isn’t an oncoming train. In Sid's case, I don't believe he had that. In retrospect, he had more enablers than people who genuinely wanted to help him. It’s those enablers who should carry most of the guilt of a friend’s demise.