Rockers, Models And The New Allure Of Heroin

Some L.A. musicians in need of recovery turn to Gloria Scott. A 67-year-old former beatnik, biker chick, hippie chick and junkie with fluffy blondish hair, thick round glasses and dentures that click when she chews gum, Scott is the kind of person a cool, tough, rebellious rocker could connect with, because she's cool, tough and rebellious herself. Her war stories could make any self-obsessed 27-year-old look like a wimp. In the '60s she lived across the canal from Jim Morrison in Venice Beach, and Morrison used to put his head on her pregnant belly and listen to her son, Solo, moving around. In the '70s she and jazz drummer Buddy Arnold, now a bigwig at Musician Assistance Program, ran a scam trading phony prescriptions for pharmaceutical heroin. She got clean 17 years ago, and works as a counselor at Socorro, a treatment center in East L.A. She can't name the young musicians who've come to her, due to the tenets of the 12-step program, but she understands their plight. ""I don't think it makes any difference if it's Keith Richards or Kurt,'' she says. ""They're all idols. It sounds romantic, it's gloom and doom, it's like a secret organization. Then it gets ugly. You've got a band you love, a career you love, but this comes first.''

Scott helps take some of the scariness away from getting well. She doesn't preach the 12-step program; in fact, she doesn't mind pointing out some of its flaws. ""I hated being clean,'' she says. ""Hated those goddam meetings,'' she says. ""We'd go to Beverly Hills, and these women all had sport coats and long f-ing nails. I said, "Give me a break! I wouldn't use with people like this. Why would I get clean with them?' '' She had an additional problem with recovery: she doesn't believe in God. When she was told to focus on a higher power, she tried to think of something that was bigger and stronger than she. First she decided on Neil Young, who sang the anti-junkie anthem ""The Needle and the Damage Done.''

Later, she chose the ocean. Sometimes Scott walks along the Venice boardwalk, past apartments and alleys where she used to shoot up and deal drugs, and the memories don't bother her. The water nearby takes her out of herself. She doesn't swim in the ocean. She hasn't since she got sober. She's learned a lesson that many young musicians are still struggling with. When something's more powerful than you, it's best to stand back and leave it alone. ..MR.-

A History of Bad Habits

From grunge back to bebop, heroin has plagued hip performers ..MR0-

GREGORY BEALS IN NEW YORK, ALLISON SAMUELS IN LOS ANGELES, MARK MILLER IN SEATTLE AND STEVE RHODES IN CHICAGO

© 1996