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Lessons from an ex-junkie

Lessons from an ex-junkie

11     Phil Cooper was a junkie's junkie. If there were pills going around, and he could
2 handle a dozen, everybody else reckoned that they ought to be all right on rather less
3 than half that. In search of a fix, he has injected scotch and drained 15 bottles of kaolin
4 and morphine. Phil was a danger to himself, falling stoned through a window 50 feet up
5 and, by his own admission, a liability to his family.
26     He won't thank me for retelling any of this, and not only because of the resistance
7 he has already encountered in his new role - discussing drugs with youngsters. He refuses
8 to make any play of the days before he quit drugs 10 years ago, unless specifically asked
9 by his audience. 'I don't glamorize it. I don't go on about my experiences because it
10 looks as though I am saying, don't do this because I did, and this is what happened to
11 me,' he said.
312     But his credibility arises out of his background. The prickly truth is that the scar
13 over his left eye, put there by a bottle-wielding pusher who suspected Phil of betraying
14 him, makes him better qualified to talk about the drugs scene than a teacher armed only
15 with the well-meaning but patchy government pamphlets on which many schools rely.
416     Phil is cannily blunt in his overtures to often sceptical teenagers. 'I begin by saying
17 that I haven't come to tell them not to take drugs. I say it makes no difference to me
18 because I won't be seeing them again anyway.' What follows is a two-hour session in
19 which Phil, 35, explains the facts about drugs, dealing the youngsters a 'full deck of
20 cards' instead of the meagre hand they may have picked up from ill-informed friends or
21 media hysteria.
522     The studied indifference with which he greets a class cannot conceal an element of
23 the convert's zeal. Phil's sessions blend his observations of addicts with one-man playlets
24 and videos, and involve as much audience participation as possible. Phil is apt to break
25 abruptly into one of his own poems, or puzzles his listeners by chalking up 'crisp packet'
26 or 'sugar lump' on a blackboard during a discussion about how addicts revert to childlike
27 behaviour. (The explanation, usually prompted by an intrigued question from Phil's
28 audience, is that the rustle of a plastic bag, and sparkle of sugar crystals, can fascinate a
29 drug user whose senses are playing tricks on him as much as they would a child who has
30 just discovered these sensations).
631     The highlight of Phil's sessions is a game called 'name that substance'. 'I get people
32 out to taste and identify various powders. Everybody says something completely different
33 and they feel embarrassed when they hear the answers,' he said. Phil's assortment
34 includes glucose, flea powder and flour. 'The point is that if they do use drugs, they will
35 never know what they're taking.' (The economics of the drugs market dictate that addicts
36 are buying a great deal of poisonous trash for every precious fix).
737     Phil is critical of official literature on drugs, which includes a warning to parents to
38 be on their guard against stray postage stamps in a teenager's bedroom. They were once
39 used for taking LSD but Phil points out that the drug is now rarely available in liquid
40 form. He has sent the Home Office a list of proposed revisions to their pamphlets.
841     His past has caused suspicion in his new career, although he is scornful of any
42 suggestion that he could ever go back to drugs. He now lives quietly in his native North
43 West, wary of the disgruntled dealers whose trade he is spoiling. He kicked his habit after
44 shattering damage sustained in his fall forced him to prove he could salvage something
45 from his life. He set out as a travelling writer and one of his poems, on glue-sniffing, was
46 picked up by a local paper, and led to bookings with youth groups.
947     Perhaps the most thought-provoking feature of Phil's unorthodox performance is
48 that it is given by a former hard case of the drugs scene who admits that he couldn't
49 survive as an addict today. 'In my time you could always find work to pay for drugs.
50 That's not true now. There are more rip-offs and there is more violence,' he said.
 
     Steve Smith in 'The Observer', June 21, 1987