Most kids aren't thinking about death lurking around every corner but I was smarter than that. I knew it was coming for me. For us all, really, but I worried mostly about myself. I worried about my body betraying me with something as innocuous as, say, hiccups. When I was seven years old, my Grandpa Bradley died of the hiccups. He had the hiccups for many days, and they wouldn’t go away, and then he died. I was probably told there were complicating factors like his heart condition. I, however, focused on the hiccup, how it could kill you, and how once it started you had to make sure it stopped at all costs. Plus it upset your dad. 

When I wasn’t worrying about hiccups, I could pick and choose from my catalogue of fears.  Most but not all of these were fed by constant television intake. Television taught me all about

DRUGS