The Swede & Me

In the Pulitzer Prize winning novel American Pastoral, author Phillip Roth tells the story of Seymour “The Swede” Levov, a man whose life is supposed to be the American Dream personified.  Unfortunately for The Swede, it does not turn out this way. His life begins to spiral downward when his daughter, Merry, blows up a Post Office station to protest the Vietnam War, killing the town physician.

The punch line, of course, is that before her act of violence, The Swede and Merry had a father-daughter bond that every man with a daughter wishes he could have.  And when she reenters The Swede’s life as a fraction of the person she used to be, it becomes an even more traumatic experience for her heartbroken father.

American Pastoral is such a harrowing book because Roth is such an amazing author.  I even felt The Swede’s pain long before I was a father.  Of course, now that I am a father, the book takes on a whole new meaning.

I would be a liar if I said that there aren’t times when I look at my happy, smiling, lovable, adorable daughter and think “What if she ends up like Merry?”

I’d also be lying if I said that I didn’t watch shows like “Intervention” and think – “could that be Anna someday?” 

The honest answer is that, yes, it very well could be her someday. 

Many people on “Intervention” come from homes and families like the one in which Anna’s raised – loving, caring, and happy.  And I doubt every one of the 22.5 million in the United States with a substance abuse problem didn’t get enough hugs or the right kind of attention at home. 

I have expressed these worries to people before.  They’ve brushed them off as me being crazy.  Maybe they’re right.  Maybe I am being paranoid or overly concerned or downright crazy. 

But you know what?  No one every thinks it can happen to them.  Michael Vick never thought he’d get caught; Alberto Gonzalez didn’t think he’d ever have to resign; Luke Wilson probably never thought his brother would allegedly attempt suicide.

Yes, those are different situations and they’re not addicted to crack or vodka or diet pills.  But I’d bet all the money in my pocket against all the money in your pocket that, with obvious exceptions, the parents, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, and friends of those featured on “Intervention” never thought it would happen to that person. 

Just read the synopsis of some of these people (click the link in their names to view the episode online or visit www.aetv.com/intervention):

• Corinne is a pretty 18 year-old blonde girl who was an honor roll student, star athlete and played the clarinet and saxophone. She started using drugs at 14 after being sexually abused by a neighborhood boy who babysat her. Still striving to move forward while battling her addictions, she completed her GED and began college, finishing two semesters before dropping out. Now, Corinne has become addicted to a deadly combination of heroin and crystal meth. Corinne likes the “speedball effect” — the dangerous result of overlapping meth and heroin usage.Corinne is also adiabetic who requires insulin,but she often skips her doses because she isso high.After repeated trips to the emergency room, her family is expecting, any minute, to hear that they’ve lost her for good.
• Tim was an accomplished producer and a talented musician with a lucrative career in the entertainment industry, but a crack addiction nearly destroyed everything he treasures. An intervention is his last chance–but will it work?
• Oncea valedictorian, Tina is now a real-life desperate housewife. This mother ofa three-year-old spends her days gambling her house and car payments while stoned on prescription pills. With most of her jewelry in pawn shops, and forced to take paycheck advances, Tina now writes insurance policies from home and spends her days at horse tracks and in Bingo halls. With her marriage, health and finances in complete crisis her husband Harley says that “this show may be the only thing left that can save our lives.”

I don’t presume to understand the science behind alcoholism and drug abuse.  I don’t presume to understand the horrible circumstances that drive some people to put a fix before their own well-being.

What I do understand, however, is that addiction – to substances, gambling, whatever – knows no race, religion, ethnicity or economic status.  I know that even though I know of no druggies or alcoholics in my family or Miranda’s, that doesn’t mean Anna won’t become one.

It’s a scary and morbid thought to be sure.  And as much as I want nothing but the best for my daughter, I also think I have a responsibility to her to be prepared for the worst.

After all, if it can happen to The Swede, it can happen to me.