David McRaney  |  Journalist

American High: We do love our drugs

Night falls over my hometown. It's Friday, and as money changes hands over gas and cigarettes, case after case of beer crosses the counter.

I wait silently, looking for the active ingredients in Horny Goat Weed, when unexpectedly the smell of marijuana fills the space between me and the well-worn shirt of the man ahead in line. In his hands are Doritos, a honey bun, and a red frozen fountain drink. It's obvious that he's stoned, and I wonder if I'm the only one who notices. I wonder if he's full of anxiety, asking himself if all eyes are on him. Eventually, he checks out with placid Zen perfection, and I quickly follow.

As I get back into my car, I take notice of all the potential energy in the air. Trucks are wheeling in too fast, jeeps are peeling away with their bounties, and the thump of expensive stereo investments rattles my windows. People are preparing to release the week's frustrations and anxieties in all the myriad methods on hand.

I wonder who will take home a stranger tonight, who will light some incense and watch five hours of Adult Swim, and who will die slowly, covered in piles of shattered glass.

If one ever happens to get out of his or her house and attempt to mingle with any part of American society, they are likely to meet someone who drinks alcohol, smokes marijuana or does both.

For the casual drinker, alcohol is just a gentle social lubrication; it helps lighten the mood and draw out conversation. For the casual smoker, marijuana is more of a quiet time lubrication; it helps music and movies be less inert, more vivid.

Most people will agree that pot is a drug, but somehow alcohol gets away with being just booze.

Alcohol has been with us a very long time, and when I say us, I mean humans, not Americans. It's a common ingredient in many religious and social rituals around the world, and thus it doesn't always strike people as being a drug. It is, even by the loosest definition, and overdosing can lead to all manners of problems.

How drunk one gets depends on how concentrated his or her blood levels are. One's size, sex and metabolism will affect just how much alcohol gets into his or her blood, but once it's in there, no food or beverage can retard alcohol's effect. Let's explore, shall we?

At about 50 milligrams of alcohol per deciliter of blood, one is going to feel a little warm, his or her skin will get a little red and one might think he or she is a little funnier. Girls are going to start giggling and hanging on shoulders; guys are going to start high fiving and making lewd remarks. As one continues to drink, the effects get progressively more intense.

At 100 milligrams, one shouldn't expect to impress anyone with his or her tap dancing or knowledge of horticulture and forget driving home without crossing the solid yellow line. At 150, sentence structure gets a bit daunting, as does any motor skill more complex than writing one's name.

Somewhere between 150 and 200, all social mores and laws of man are rendered moot; and one may find his or herself lying in a bathroom talking to a bouncer about one's mother, or looking for an unlocked car that looks safe enough to sleep in.

Anything over 350 and one is going to be at the mercy of others. If one has friends that are nice, then he or she will be carried somewhere respectable; if not, one can expect to wake up with a nice big Salvador Dali mustache etched in magic marker on his or her face, and perhaps a little poop on his or her thigh. If one somehow manages to drink till his or her blood alcohol level exceeds 500 per deciliter, he or she will soon be decomposing underground.

After a nice long night of drinking, one can expect to wake up to nausea, headache, diarrhea and dehydration. If one hasn't already vomited, he or she may begin, and at the very least one isn't going to find it easy to laugh with everyone as they go into detail about how he or she looked while passed out with no pants on against a urinal.

If one does this often enough his or her heart, liver and lungs will atrophy till something gives up inside of his or her body. Men eventually become impotent, women stop menstruating. One's life expectancy takes a massive nosedive, as does his or her taste in T-Shirt slogans.

For the genetically unfortunate, one's midsection enlarges as does his or her appetite for the firewater, and some may find his or herself asking for credit at the liquor store, or asking people at the bar, "Are you going to finish that?" Drinking and driving has been studied for decades, even though most logical people don't need a study to tell them that operating a big fast hunk of metal while hammered is a bad idea.

It seems as though human beings have to self medicate occasionally to escape the terrible machine of survival that is life. People seem to need something to break the ice and get them treating each other like friends. All things made equal in legality, I would probably hold alcohol up to more scrutiny than marijuana, but only when abused. If one drinks too much, he or she may end up killing someone. If one smokes too much, he or she may end up surrounded by black lights and smelling like patchouli. The key, as in most human endeavors, is balance.

Originally published in The Student Printz on October 20, 2005