THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, January 22, 1995 TAG: 9501200205
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Random Rambles
SOURCE: Tony Stein
LENGTH: Medium: 88 lines
At first glance, you might figure it for a standard issue birthday card. There's a guy who must be Hamlet saying, ``Two be or not two be. That is the question.''
But you open the card and it says, ``The answer is yes. You be two years clean and sober. Happy birthday.''
Stuff like that card is what makes Kurt Bagley's shop different. Squirreled away in the 1001 Mart complex on South Military Highway, Bagley's place is called the Keep It Simple Shop, K.I.S.S. for short. What you'll find there is an array of merchandise aimed at people recovering from addictions. Alcohol, narcotics, smoking, even sex.
(Yes, says Bagley, sex can be an addiction. Whatever interferes with, whatever warps your life can be an addiction.)
He knows. A 54-year-old Connecticut native, he served as a drug and alcohol counselor in the Navy. And - surprise, surprise - it was the Navy that brought him to Hampton Roads in 1963. Brought him against his will, he says. ``They had to drag me here kickin' and screamin'.''
Behind his reluctance was Norfolk's one-time reputation. The city had a nickname I can't print here, but I heard it myself when I moved from Evansville, Ind., in 1955. Anyway, Bagley learned, as I did, that the name was a tired, old slander. ``Now,'' he said, ``they couldn't get me out of here.''
He retired from the Navy in 1981 and put in a stretch as an addiction counselor in Norfolk. In 1992, he chucked the office and the desk in favor of the shop. The ``Keep It Simple'' theme is hooked to the way addiction complicates peoples' lives. It's an endless hassle to live with their addiction, try to cover it up and keep their stories straight. Shake the addiction, Bagley said, and you can shake a lot of the complications. Simple is the goal.
And the shop is sort of a cheering section. Like T-shirts that make you laugh and think at the same time. One shirt deals with how tough it is for an alcoholic to admit addiction and try Alcoholics Anonymous. ``I surrender,'' the shirt says. ``Where's the meeting?'' Another shirt tells a common story behind addiction. It says, ``I survived a dysfunctional family. Well, almost.''
There are a lot of medallions, too. They're numbered for each year that a recovering addict stays clean. The familiar ``Serenity Prayer'' is on the back: ``God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.''
Bagley has medallions numbered all the way from one to 50. That underlines the fact that you don't ``cure'' addiction. You deal with it, you acknowledge it every day.
Bagley, for instance, used to smoke about 3 1/2 packs of cigarettes every day when he was in the Navy. ``I burned holes in my clothes, and I felt like an elephant had his foot on my chest when I got up in the morning,'' Bagley said. Even though he's weaned himself away from the smoking habit, he knows the temptation still lurks. That's the reality behind one of the T-shirts he sells. It says, ``I'm a puff away from three packs a day.''
Some others of his shirts are slap-in-the-face blunt about smoking. One says, ``I'll croak if you smoke.'' Another says, ``Yes, there is a smoking section. It's a cemetery.''
An important element of recovery from alcoholism, Bagley said, is giving thanks to a higher power. What that higher power is depends on the individual. ``It's God as one understands God,'' Bagley said. For some, the traditional God of Christianity. For others, a Nature force. That's why Bagley has materials ranging from traditional Christian beliefs to the Native American dream catcher.
The dream catcher is a web of feathers that Indians hung near their beds. Bad dreams would be caught in the webbing and burned at morning light. Good dreams would filter into the feathers and return to be dreamed again.
There have to be wide-ranging responses to reflect the way addiction strikes across the whole spectrum of the population.
``Addiction is the most equal-opportunity employer I've ever seen,'' Bagley said. Forget the stereotype of the inner-city junkie. There are plenty of well-educated, well-paid professionals fighting the bottle or the needle, Bagley tells you.
Knowing that they have to find the way themselves, he doesn't try to give recovering addicts a full dose of over-the-counter advice. Referring to big-mouth character Lucy in the ``Peanuts'' comic strip, he said, ``I don't hang out a sign that says, `The doctor is in. Five cents, please.' '' What he does do is suggest that they get professional help or go to a meeting.
Right by Bagley's head as he talks to me is a sign that says, ``Happiness is a positive cash flow.'' He's not there just yet, but he's working on it. Meanwhile, he's philosophical. ``This is not a get-rich place,'' he said, ``but I love it. I love seeing people in recovery.'' by CNB