Rodney King, for better or worse. A classic case of the duality of alcoholism.
Sometimes it Takes an Addict: The Duality of Rodney King’s Life
Drunks, Drugs & Debits describes numerous cases involving the wide-ranging negative impact of addicts’ behaviors. One such case was a classic:
“…[and] we are all indirectly affected by addicts’ behaviors. The damage one addict inflicts can, in fact, be monumental and injure practically all of us. Regardless of the police officers’ behavior, [an alcoholic] was high on alcohol and other drugs when he led them on a 100-mph car chase. When he stopped, he violently resisted arrest. Entire sections of Los Angeles [later] burned to the ground, a billion dollars in property damage resulting [from] one man’s [addictive use]….The results of such addicts’ behaviors are reflected in our insurance rates and higher taxes for police, prisons and public health….”
The alcoholic referred to is well known, but the name doesn’t really matter; it could have been any alcohol or other-drug addict. Those with the disease of alcoholism suffer from distorted perceptions that sometimes cause the afflicted to think they are invincible and above the law; they take risks, do things and act in ways the sober person would never consider. As a result, they often change the world, for better or worse and sometimes both.
Rodney King, dead at 47 from the (likely) intersection of too much booze and a swimming pool, was indirectly responsible for 53 deaths, 2,373 injuries and nearly $1 billion in property damage resulting from the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Oddly, for all of his faults and without giving undo credit (although a few days after the riots began he made an impassioned plea, “Can we all get along?”), he may have done some good. An independent commission created in the wake of his beating issued a scathing report on the culture of the LAPD, helping to remake the force over the following decades into one that racial minorities can trust (at least more than before). While King changed many lives for the worse—those who were killed, their family and friends, those who were injured or had their homes or businesses destroyed or property stolen—his misbehaviors likely drove positive change for future generations of Los Angelinos. Nevertheless, as I often remark about even the most productive addicts, The world would be a better place without their positive contributions if, in exchange, we could avoid the extraordinary harm they inflict.
In early 1991, King drove from police at speeds of up to 115 mph because he was on probation from a previous robbery conviction and was under the influence. He knew he’d go back to jail if stopped—so, with drug-addled brain and confabulated thinking, he tried to escape. When the car was finally cornered, his two passengers were taken without incident; King, on the other hand, fought with the officers for some time before the infamous videotape and beating began (see this page for the amazing description). This resulted in an “apparent” over-reaction by police—“apparent” because police are all, by the nature of their jobs, codependents (which, because they are dealing with insanity, can make any rational person do crazy things). In a radio interview shortly before he died King claimed he’d had only a few drinks before being pulled over that night. However, five hours later his blood alcohol level was nearly .08 per cent. He obviously didn’t have just “a few drinks,” unless you count as a “few” three 28-ounce Long Island iced teas; his BAL had to have been at least .16 per cent at the time of the incident, which requires 11 drinks, the equivalent of more than 16 ounces of 80-proof liquor over the course of four hours for a 200-pound person. The radio interview demonstrates he was still doing what addicts do: lying.
In another interview, he said he didn’t buy the notion that addicts can’t drink and be sober. “All addicts are different,” he said. “And I’m different. I’ve learned that I’m one of those who can manage it.” As he dabbed peanut butter between his teeth at 9:30 a.m., he explained to a journalist that it was an old drinker’s trick to mask the smell of alcohol. His drinking was just “a sip here, a sip there. It was never out of control.” The journalist never saw the pre-drinking, which we know occurred because no addict can “sip” unless the blood alcohol level is where he wants it, something well north of .12 per cent.
King got sober for periods of time, including during his stints on “Celebrity Rehab” and “Sober House.” He was a nice guy when sober. Hell, he was often a nice guy when he was drunk. The problem was those darned addiction-induced unpredictable misbehaviors. In his case, those misbehaviors wreaked havoc, even though the worst of it was indirect and committed by other addicts. At least, among the ironies that encompass addiction, he may have inadvertently done some good.