Edith PiafThe USPS has issued a stamp collection celebrating Miles Davis and Édith Piaf—two junkies, it turns out, but that isn't why they were selected for the stamps. Although it does sound like it would make a great series: lickable junkies. Or stickable. I don't know.

I knew who Miles Davis was, of course. I have many of his records—Kind of Blue is one of my all time favorites. I even know how he stayed on his father's farm to kick dope. But Piaf? I've heard her sing—I think everyone has, even if they don't know it. If you've heard a French female vocalist from the 40s or 50s, it is probably Piaf. What's more, the song is probably La Vie en Rose. But I, like most people, didn't know anything about her life.

But first, a song: Hymne à l'Amour:


Piaf died very young, at 47. But the story that Wikipedia paints of her life is the same story that is told about Charlie Parker and Billie Holiday: drinking and opioid abuse cut the great artist down before their time.

I hate to sound like cannabis smokers who are always pointing out how the world would be better off with their chosen drug than with alcohol. But the truth is that both cannabis and opioids are better addictions than alcohol. All three of these artists have given so much to the world generally and me in particular. But none of them died because of their opioid use. It is hard to say what Parker died of—he was never that healthy. But he would have died soon anyway from cirrhosis. Holiday did die from cirrhosis. And Piaf died from liver cancer.

Each of these three were known to be heavy drinkers. Each of them seemed to die as a result of their drinking. And yet, people focus on their opioid use. What's more, only Holiday is what we would consider a recreational user. Both Parker and Piaf seemed to be treating problems that doctors couldn't or wouldn't.

Despite all they've given us, our society holds them up as object lessons of the evils of drug use. What they are are object lessons of the evils of our ignorant, punitive society.

Billie:


Bird: