DRUGS, EGGS AND MARTHA

By CALVIN TRILLIN

The V-chip issue got a little more complicated for me after Molly, an 11-year-old friend of ours who lives in New Jersey, confessed to her parents that she had been watching Martha Stewart on television.

Picture this: Molly's parents are off at their respective offices, under the assumption that their daughter is doing her homework--or at least taking in something broadening on the History Channel. She, meanwhile, is planted in front of the tube while Martha demonstrates how the fall foliage in your backyard can, with a little imagination, be transformed into the perfect centerpiece for that festive Sunday brunch.

Molly's parents didn't panic. They are pretty cool, even by Molly's standards. When we all discussed the incident over supper last Sunday at a homey restaurant called the Cafe not far from where Molly and her parents live, voices were not raised. Under the circumstances, I felt it might be all right to ask Molly what she thought of Martha Stewart.

"She seems to have a lot of time on her hands," Molly said. That remark indicated to me that Molly had come away from the experience unscathed. A little later in the meal, though, it was revealed that the same could not be said for her experience with the television advertising campaign against drug use.

This came out while we were discussing the Cafe's profound understanding of breakfast. I had introduced that subject after Molly was kind enough to allow me a taste of what she'd ordered as a main course--a dish that I would associate with breakfast but the restaurant carries on the menu throughout the day as "Potatoes from Heaven."

When somebody said the chef did have a great touch with omelets, Molly made the sort of face I became familiar with when our own children were growing up. I associate it with a painfully evocative phrase that one of my daughters used at an early age for food she found revolting--"guts and throw-up."

Why does Molly shudder at the thought of eating eggs? Because several years ago, she saw the most famous antidrug commercial ever aired. The spot opens with a shot of a raw egg while a voice says, "This is your brain." The egg is then dumped onto a sizzling griddle while the voice says, "This is your brain on drugs." The commercial may well have put a number of teenagers off drugs. It put at least one six-year-old off eggs.

But, you might be thinking, the commercial still did some good for Molly: she must have the lowest cholesterol count in the entire sixth grade. I wouldn't know about that. One of the many pleasant characteristics of my conversations with Molly is that she never talks about cholesterol.

No, the lesson I would draw from Molly's problem with eggs is that old one about unintended consequences. It's the lesson that was always drawn from the Soviet propaganda film of cold war legend that had been intended to demonstrate the brutality of strike-busting thugs beating peaceful American workers but apparently left Russian audiences impressed instead with the fact that all the workers seemed to be wearing decent shoes.

Given the possibility of unintended consequences, should Molly's parents let antidrug messages through? What about Martha Stewart? Would throwing a V-chip block on Martha Stewart be extreme? Maybe. But how would they feel if they arrived home one day and found Molly arranging fall foliage into a perfect centerpiece?