Why I Went to Rehab

It was not a kidnapping, damn it!

I really feel as though I must be very clear on this point. Insistent, even. I am going to be adamant about it. It was absolutely, positively not kidnapping.

It might have been false imprisonment. Maybe. But it was not kidnapping.

So if it should so happen that you should decide that I need yet another intervention, please take the time and attention to detail to at least call the straw that broke the camel’s back what it really was.

I might have falsely imprisoned a local radio personality for mischaracterizing the music of Peter Gabriel on her morning show. But there is no way I can be said to have kidnapped her.

So don’t be yet another Self-Designated Caring Person in My Life who stands here – in the entryway of my own house, no less – with that overly sincere, concerned pucker upon your face, saying, “Adri, we are worried about you. For God’s sake, you kidnapped a deejay for mischaracterizing Peter Gabriel!”

These are the people in my life standing here, you understand. You, along with one of my former employees, my shaman/empath, a former U.S. Secretary of Commerce, my lawyer, a representative of the Houston District Attorney’s office, my one friend, and my drug dealer.

Wait… My drug dealer?

“You sell me drugs, you idiot. Why would you be part of a fucking intervention?”

“Well…” My dealer, he looks down, refuses to meet my gaze. “I was worried about you after the kidnapping and all…”

It wasn’t a kidnapping!

*          *          *          *          *

Okay then. This is what she said. Monica-in-the-Morning or whatever-the-hell name she goes by on the radio, that is. She said this: “Peter Gabriel, for those of you who do not remember him, was kind of the Brit-pop answer to Bryan Adams.”

One more time: “Peter. Gabriel. For. Those. Of. You. Who. Do. Not. Remember. Him. Was. Kind. Of. The. Brit-pop. Answer. To. Bryan. Adams.”

Bryan Adams, for whom the Canadian government has already apologized on numerous occasions.

So you see, I clearly had no choice but to take action.

*          *          *          *          *

And this is what I did:

I calmly alerted Harry as to the situation by phone. Harry remained surprisingly calm. He did not appear nearly as alarmed by the statement in question as I was. Nevertheless, Harry climbed into his rusted white van and he drove over to my office. Then, together, we calmly drove to the radio station. Calmly.

Once there, I slid the van door open. Calmly. “Joyce?”

“Adri! Hey... Hi!” Joyce – or “Monica in the Morning,” as her evil radio alter ego prefers to be known – was reaching out to open her car door. She had no reason not to trust me. The two of us, you see, we went to the same gym. We’d talked. We’d showered together.

She had finished her shift at the radio station. It had been a good show. Among other things, she had compared Peter Gabriel to Bryan Adams. It was always fun to spread vicious slanders over the Houston airwaves with absolute impunity. No consequences of any sort, so far as she could tell.

She got into the van of her own free will. Voluntarily. Definitely not at gunpoint. I did not threaten her. I did not even help her in.

I slid the door closed. “Peter Gabriel was kind of the Brit-pop answer to Bryan Adams?!” I might have screamed this. In retrospect, some of it is a blur.

Joyce emitted a feeble chuckle. “Did I say that?” As though you could go and make such a criminally outrageous claim and not remember it two hours later!

“Adri, maybe we…” From the front seat, Harry voiced too-little-too-late opposition to my plan.

I repositioned myself on the shag carpet of the van’s interior. “No no!” I shouted. “We are all going to sit here and listen to Genesis’ 1974 masterpiece double concept album, The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, in its entirety. Before the morning is over, you will acknowledge the lyrical, escapist, political, psychological, and spiritual genius of Peter Gabriel.”

I said, “Then, I’m going to make you listen to Bryan Adams’ ‘(Everything I Do) I Do it For You’ on repeat through headphones until you start bleeding out of your eyes.” I estimated this would take about two listens.

In the aftermath of the van incident, Joyce/Monica-in-the-Morning called the Houston Police Department. But, the very next morning, she retracted her Peter Gabriel/Bryan Adams blasphemy. On the air.

So overall, I’m thinking Truth, Justice, and the American way came out a little bit ahead.

*          *          *          *          *

And I remember the Assistant District Attorney saying, “If you voluntarily give up your driver’s license for six months and successfully complete thirty days in a treatment center for addiction, you will be able to keep your guns, your license to practice law, and your freedom.”

He was saying this about the whole rotten (alleged) ball of (alleged) wax: the recent DWI, the possession of a controlled substance, the suborning of perjury, the assault that I don’t remember... Not just the false imprisonment.

I remember my head swimming at these words, like I might fall over right then and there. In the entryway to my house.

I said, “I need to talk to my attorney about this-”

“No.” This was my own attorney saying this! “You need to take it, Adri.”

*          *          *          *          *

I’m told that in addiction treatment – in rehab, that is – in group sessions, recovering addicts are encouraged to share the facts of the incident that finally landed them in rehab. To talk about their rock bottom. You know, about the time they woke up glued to the side of the bathtub by their own blood and excrement. About how they lost their job and their kids and their wife.

About how they lied their way into an invasion of a sovereign nation, thereby undermining the international reputation of the nation over which they served as Commander-in-Chief.

That sort of thing.

When I’m in group next week, I’m going to have to share about how I falsely imprisoned a local radio personality for mischaracterizing the music of Peter Gabriel.

Frankly, I am not convinced a stone sober Adri would not have done exactly the same thing. Hell, I am not convinced that Jesus Christ would not have done exactly the same thing.

But it does not matter at this point. It is past the point of relevance. That ship already sailed.

Because come Wednesday, I am leaving the state for a month to go into treatment for addiction.

See you in a month!

And it wasn’t kidnapping!

You can trust me on this. After all, my name is Adri, and I am an addict.