2030_ The Real Story of What Happens to America - Albert Brooks [59]
There were still drugs like morphine for severe overall pain or to end suffering, but for the most part the new class of drugs targeted specific neuro pathways. The same way a person can move a hand without moving an arm was the way these medications worked, almost replicating the signals from the brain.
Many people were upset by the diminishing choices of drugs that made them feel like they lived on cloud nine. But in one area, the area of depression, the drugs got so good that they were now the most abused. Even if someone never experienced panic or bipolar disorder, taking drugs for these conditions would produce euphoria in most people. That is, until their brain chemistry got so screwed up that they actually created the depression they hadn’t had. And then the drugs could not help them. It was a complicated dilemma: Feel great for five years and then wake up bipolar, with no means to cure it. Not a good scenario, but people still did it; the high was just too powerful. No matter how much humans advanced, it seemed the need and desire to alter one’s state of mind remained constant.
* * *
Dr. Mueller woke up from his nap at six-twenty. He didn’t like to arrive too early for these events; standing around made him nervous. He thought if he got there at seven-thirty, a half hour before the lecture, that would be perfect. He showered and dressed leisurely, and at seven he opened the door of his suite and called for his son. There was no answer.
“Mark,” he called again, “let’s go, we gotta leave.”
No answer.
Instead of being worried, he was angry. Why is everything a problem with him? He continued dressing and looked at the clock. It was seven-fifteen. At that moment Mark’s face appeared on his father’s watch.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Where are you? Do you know what time it is?”
“I’m here. I’m at the lecture.”
“You’re there now?”
“Yeah. It’s a nice place.”
His father was relieved. “Okay. Do you want to wait for me backstage?”
“I’m just talking to some people. I’ll come backstage when you get here.”
“Fine. See you soon.” Sam Mueller had to smile. In one moment he went from having a son who couldn’t care less to a son who cared enough to go early and check out the auditorium. Like a little road manager. How nice is that?
Mark disconnected from his dad and walked back to Max and Kathy. As they were the only other younger people in the whole place, they caught his attention immediately and he went up to the balcony to see who they were. The three of them bullshitted about nothing in particular, but he did not tell them who his father was. Sometimes Mark liked to tell and other times he didn’t.
“So what are you doing here?” Max asked him.
“I’m just hanging out. Thought I would see what this was all about.”
“You’re a little young for this, aren’t you?”
“Not really.”
“Are you in pain?” Kathy asked.
“Am I in pain? Why would you ask that?”
“Isn’t that what the lecture is about?”
“Oh yeah.” Mark felt he was digging himself into a hole. “My dad’s in pain, so I came with him.”
“I’m sorry,” Kathy said. “Where is your dad?”
“I don’t know. He went to the bathroom.”
“Do you know the guy who is lecturing?” Max asked.
“Not personally.”
“Do you know what he’s famous for?” Now Mark was getting uncomfortable. Why had he lied?
“Yeah, he cured cancer.”
“What do you think of that?”
“I think it’s great, don’t you?”
“It’s great in a baby. I don’t know how great it is in a grandpa.”
“Why?”
Kathy interrupted. “Honey, I think he’s too young to have this discussion.”
At that moment someone who worked at the theater came