When I was growing up in the 1960s, my dad, a doctor, was worried about the increasing use of narcotics among young people. He decided to take preemptive action with his two grade-school daughters by showing us a film depicting a heroin addict in withdrawal. My sis and I sat wide-eyed and open-mouthed as we watched a young man, strapped to a gurney, tremble and convulse, scream, throw up, and foam at the mouth (really) as his body fiercely fought detoxification. The film had its desired effect. To this day I’m loath to consume any drug more mood altering than a Benadryl.