The $600,000 crack clause: Nicole Kidman, Keith Urban and the price of sobriety
Money can't buy recovery.
After 19 years of marriage, Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban are calling it quits.
Normally, I wouldn’t spare a thought to the marital woes of the ultra-rich and famous. Especially, since in this case, I recall being mildly annoyed by all the performative nonsense they were always spouting about being soul mates and cooing and public spooning — give it up, already.
If you have to proclaim your love on social media, it’s already over. It’s too desperate. Too insistent. Next thing you know, their love letters will bypass each other completely — and exclusively get published on the socials.
“To the funniest, kindest, most thoughtful man I’ve ever met…”
But in the case of Kidman and Urban, I suspect another kind of crack in the union.
My kind of crack.
Allegedly, Urban had a bit of a problem. Untalented country singer or not, I feel for him. Addiction doesn’t go easy out of respect for your $6.5-million car collection. It’s a soul misery that unites all addicts.
But make no mistake, white male crack smoker’s privilege is real.
And Kidman’s alleged solution was pure privilege. According to trustworthy gossip rags, she offered him $600,000 for every year that he didn’t indulge.
My friend summed it up nicely, “That’s fucked up. Rich people think they can solve problems through money.”
Of course, I’d take that deal. Forget the fact that it’s dehumanizing — would Urban be tested for drugs every day? — and addicts already feel so much less than human.
But whatever suffering I might endure by refraining from drug use would be eased, at least, by the knowledge that, in just a few short years, all the crack would belong to me.
That’s the ‘biding time’ approach to recovery — an utter and complete failure. Believe me, in my life as an addict, I’ve bided a lot of it — either waiting for the movie to end or dinner to be over or the weekend to come already.
I could see myself biding a lot of time — years, even — if there was a Zippo and a crack pipe waiting for me.
But, you might ask, wouldn’t time take care of the problem on its own? Sure, it’s fair to suggest that if I didn’t do drugs for a few years, the urges would go away. I’d get clean, in spite of myself. Because, you know, there’s a magical switch inside every addict. Keep them away from drugs long enough and they’ll be just fine.
That’s abstinence — without recovery. It makes ‘clean time’ meaningless, while it extends suffering indefinitely. A motivated addict can handle the suffering. Just think about the incredible feats they regularly perform in service to their habit — from trekking countless miles in winter to an utterly dehumanizing street-corner panhandle for 12 hours to doing the sort of things we’ll always be too young to know about.
You don’t think waiting a year to smoke crack — because it’s going to be a hell of a lot of dope — isn’t just another amazing feat? That’s a $600,000 carrot.
Most smokers would swallow their pipe for that princely sum. Or at least, find an ingenuous way not to get caught. Personally, I might have even been able to hold off for a decade — just thinking about the motherlode to come.
But what an abysmal time it would be. I mean, like using a magic marker to blot out ten years of life — years that could have been spent savoring the magic in every moment. How many harvest moons is that, anyway?
Instead, it’s all about the lighter at the end of the tunnel. And, sadly, as an addict, I’d live the life redacted in order to reach it.
But until then, I promise you wouldn’t want to be married to me. If you fantasize about murdering your addict partner when he’s between scores, imagine living with one who’s been jonesing for years.
And then, when I do finally reach the end of my well-compensated abstinence, will loved ones be relieved?
Maybe they’ll say: “Finally, he’s back on the pipe. Now, he doesn’t have to be such a brooding, short-tempered, miserable bastard. He’s got all the crack in the world.”
What joyous marital prospects Nicole Kidman must have faced: The devil she lived with. Or the crack-addled devil she would eventually live with.
Money can’t cure addiction. Addicts go through that stuff like grape freezies and Skittles. You can, however, throw money at housing, effective treatment centers, and maybe even a bit of government lobbying to put science-based legislation in play.
Imagine: The Nicole Kidman Center for Recovering Addicts!
Well, good luck with that. Everyone wants their name on a cancer ward. Not so much a rehab clinic. God bless you, Matthew Perry. And, I guess, you too, Betty Ford.
Still, how much better off would we all be if Kidman and her celebrity kind, poured their millions into social and recovery programs for all?
Maybe her ex-husband-to-be would have made use of them — and experienced true recovery. Maybe he’ll still surprise us — and use the ‘crack clause’ for a greater cause.
Even a fraction of that payout would go a long way towards helping addicts.
The Keith Urban Home for Wayward Country Singers has a nice ring to it.
I have never tried Heroin, Crack or heavy drugs. The day my boyfriend came out of the bathroom and asked me if the needle he was holding was barbed I made my mind up to never do them.
Thank you for sharing your experience with me. It confirms I made the right choice. Understanding the hold these have on people opens my eyes to what it is like being controlled by something other than yourself. Your struggles and growth in detaching yourself from crack, people and crack places is amazing. Your writings teach me how very hard it is. Very Proud of you for sharing your journey and helping others while you are helping yourself. Keep writing please!
Keith Urban had a history of substance (ab)use. People who self-medicate(d) should not feel embarrassed or ashamed about their addiction(s). Yet, addictions and addicts are still largely perceived by sober society as being products of weak willpower and/or moral crime.
At the same time, pharmaceutical corporations have intentionally pushed their own very addictive and profitable opiate resulting in immense suffering and overdose death numbers — indeed, the real moral crime! — and got off relatively lightly and only through civil litigation!
A very long time ago, I, while sympathetic, would look down on those who had ‘allowed’ themselves to become addicted to hard drugs or alcohol. Although I’ve not been personally or familially affected by the opioid overdose crisis, I suffer enough unrelenting PTSD symptoms (etcetera) to know, enjoy and appreciate the great release by consuming alcohol or THC. ... Typically, societally overlooked is that intense addiction usually doesn’t originate from a bout of boredom, where a person consumed recreationally but became heavily hooked on a (self)medicating substance that eventually destroyed their life and even those of loved-ones.
The unfortunate fact about self-medicating is: the greater the induced euphoria or escape one attains from it, the more one wants to repeat the experience; and the more intolerable one finds their non-self-medicating reality, the more pleasurable that escape will likely be perceived. In other words: the greater one’s mental pain or trauma while not self-medicating, the greater the need for escape from one's reality — all the more addictive the euphoric escape-form will likely be.
Societally neglecting, rejecting and therefore failing people struggling with crippling addiction should never be an acceptable or preferable political, economic or religious/morality option. They definitely should not be consciously or subconsciously perceived by sober society as somehow being disposable. But the more callous politics that are typically involved with lacking addiction funding/services tend to reflect conservative electorate and representatives’ opposition, however irrational, against making proper treatment available to low- and no-income addicts, including safe(r) drugs.
Too often the worth(lessness) of the substance abuser is measured basically by their ‘productivity’ or lack thereof. They may then begin perceiving themselves as worthless and accordingly live and self-medicate their daily lives more haphazardly. (Not surprising, many chronically addicted people won’t miss this world if they never wake up.) Especially when the substance abuse is due to past formidable mental trauma, the lasting solitarily-suffered turmoil can readily make each day an ordeal unless the traumatized mind is medicated.