The cluck was born into a conservative family in the suburban sprawl of the western United States. Since anybody can remember, he was always one of the smartest and funniest kids in school. He was hyperactive, yes, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone, except for maybe his teachers. He could make anybody laugh, and he always did.

The cluck was a natural athlete. He excelled at team sports, soccer, basketball, but was also an avid skier, mountain biker, and backpacker. His good looks, natural charm, intelligence, and athletic ability made him an instant hit with the ladies.

His hyperactivity and “disruptive” nature in school led the doctors to diagnose him with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). The doctors prescribed medication to keep him under control: Ritalin. The tablets seemed to have a positive effect, so his parents consented.

At the age of 16, the cluck saw a special on 60 minutes warning parents of a dangerous new development: young kids were grinding their Ritalin tablets into powder and snorting it, having an effect much like that of cocaine. The cluck, out of curiosity, had already experimented with other drugs, like alcohol, cigarettes, and marijuana. He decided to give it a try.

Later, he would attest: “I learned how to do most drugs by watching television.”

Ritalin was an easy way to start; after all, he had a prescription for it, a seemingly endless, legal supply. The drugs began to cloud his vision and corrupt his intelligence; he exhibited highly addictive tendencies.

As adolescence gave way to manhood, he indulged heavily in alcohol and other drugs, and clung desperately to the dream of rock and roll fame. It wasn’t long before Ritalin became cocaine, which transformed him completely. He moved from job to job, vaguely holding out promises of going back to school, becoming a gym teacher, a lawyer, anything but a burned out rock-star wanna-be.

And then the years passed. He sold his possessions to buy cocaine, borrowed money, committed insurance fraud. To his friends, he was no longer recognizable. His incoherent speech and his wasted body, looking more like a skeletal shell, bore a vague resemblance to the handsome, funny athlete with a sharp wit and a bright future.

His blessing with women turned into a curse, as one woman after another enabled him to continue with his self-destructive habits, giving him money, a car, a place to live.

After awhile, cocaine became too expensive, an unintended consequence of the War on Drugs. The cluck switched to crystal methamphetamine, a drug made in slum labs out of household chemicals. The meth rotted everything: his teeth, his bones from the inside out, and his mind…melting it to a pale shadow of its former, ebullient self. Sometimes, he went missing for days at a time. The cluck is the Great American Tragedy, and he is everywhere; he is your neighbor, your friend, your student, your son.

And though they live worlds apart, though they have never met and probably never will, the lives of the cluck and the cocalero are tragically and inextricably intertwined.