rehab

Advertising is cruel when it plays on universal fears and weaknesses. It is at its best when attempting to market ideas rather than products. Mobile phone ads sell liberation, autonomy and communication.

I hate the Nutrient Water bottles called Rehab. Sometimes I will glance over it in a store. It that something I need? Will that purple liquid suffice, save me from the gaping doors of the inpatient's ward?

I tried calling the dedicated Drug and Alcohol Counselling Service a few months ago. First I got an answering machine. I was very close to giving up but I left a garbled message. They called back swiftly.

Operator: Hello James?
Me: Hi.
O: You rang?
M: Yeah. I think I need to talk to someone about my habits.
O: Will you be needing Rehab?
M: I guess it couldn't hurt but I'm-
O: Surname?
M: Cunningham.
O: Date of Birth?
M: 30/01/87
O: Okay. And occupation?
M: I'm a barman funnily enough.
O: Hang on. You're 21. You need our youth services number. 9287 4556. Good luck.

I couldn't ring the new number. I couldn't believe the operator would offer rehab so quickly. As easy to get as Nutrient Water. It must be a real good service, considering the amount of grinning reformed junkies I see wandering about. Not. But surely all of them would have got the same treatment if they'd just had that little bit of self-awareness and hope and reached out that dedicated, understanding service. No questions asked.

The Coca-Cola Amatil knows this generation. Of course they do, they probably ask us more questions than any politician ever has. We are enamoured by drinks calling themselves Rehab, because we both glorify and fear the possibility, the absurdity of us needing it.

I think alcohol ads sell acceptance, community, joy and strength. If that's not good salemanship I'll never touch another drop in my life.