The other day The Wife joked that I have to blog about everything, even when I breathe, so this is part one of two.
Inhaling is good.
Or so I’ve been told.
The only “inhaling” (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, know what I mean?) I’ve really done is tobacco, and that was for a short time in college as I’ve mentioned in my New Year’s Resolutions earlier in the year.
College was Messiah College, yes, the same place from which Monica Goodling graduated, but unlike that other place, Regent University, Messiah was accredited and didn’t rank in the bottom of colleges in the country…
…and while it wasn’t Liberty University (founded by this dead guy) or, God forbid, Bob Jones University, they still frowned upon smoking, drinking AND dancing (when The Wife and I went there; the latter since has changed).
Students, though, of course, found a way around the rules and went out to nightclubs in neighboring Harrisburg (Pa.) where we smoked, drank and, yes, even danced.
I’ll be honest, I probably was put off by smoking for the longest time because I had a grandfather that died of lung cancer, plus asthma runs in our family. I think what finally broke me down to was a woman.
No, it wasn’t The Wife, although we did smoke together, but she didn’t send me down the path of perdition.
It was a red-haired vixen named Vicki that led me astray.
She and I would smoke in her attic/bedroom of her house, listening to the Dead, discussing The White Goddess by Robert Graves, and then we’d go out for drives and smoke and drink and sometimes dance in the middle of the road.
Actually, I remember once we laid in the middle of a back road beside a creek and watched the stars. Unfortunately for me, but fortunately in the eyes of The Wife, it was all platonic.
I must admit there was nothing like inhaling a good cigarette during a night of drinking.
Of course, now I can’t stand the smell of smoke and thanks to commercials like the following, I never want to smoke again.
When I think of smoke, I think of smoke signals or smokestacks like in Auschwitz.
However, for some reason, Pope Benedict XVI yesterday chose to ignore the Holocaust on, of all days, what is known as Holocaust Memorial Day as he reinstated a bishop who doesn’t believe the Holocaust happened.
Tomorrow: Part II: Exhale. Don’t hold your breath until then, though. That wouldn’t be good.