New Blog

This blog isn't done, by any means. I have a hundred things to blog about. However my attention is going into a little project of mine. Check it out at barflychronicles.com. I will have more posts over here eventually. I promise.
Phresh~

Oh.. we found that was actually one of the best things for you.

In the Woody Allen film, Sleeper, there is a scene were a groggy Rumpelstiltskin Woody is asked if he wants a scotch and a cigarette. He says no, that those things (especially the smoke) are bad for his health. This is when the futurist says (paraphrase) "Oh no we have discovered that scotch and a smoke are one of the best things you can do for your body" the conversation goes on about how 20th century man suffered because they thought they couldn't drink and smoke.

Well I wish that were the case, it is no longer the 20th century but I believe smoking is probably really bad for you in the doses that I engage in the habit. Scotch on the other hand while being only palatable in the rarefied air of single malts is still OK to imbibe in. That is in the doses I normally take of Scotch Whiskey.

I am a pack a day smoker, I have been a smoker for well over 20 years. I once quit for 24 months almost to the day and when I picked them back up I knew what I was doing. I fully understood I was about to re ignite my addiction and let it run part so my life again. The trauma that precipitated that decision is beyond the scope of this post, but tobacco was one of the first crutches I reached for.

Daisy is going to quit, in the face of aging, and a steep increase in the cost of smoking in my state she has decided to make the attempt to quit. I will follow, and also make the attempt, we live together and love each other and should share this burden in order to support each other and increase our chances of success.

I must say I don't want to quit, I mean I want to be free of my addiction but that is a scary proposition. I really love them, the way I feel when I smoke the romance and social aspects of smoking are all very entrenched in my psyche. I have had some health issues as of late, and they were quite unpleasant. None of these issues were a result of my nicotine habit, but what if they were? I hated my recent stay in the hospital, what if I fail to quit and someday have to spend the last of my days in a hospital where the technology to keep me breathing exists? A powerful reminder as to why my smoking days are numbered.

I have had free reign at work for smoking, I go outside to smoke 5 times in an 8 hour period. I take 7 minutes to go downstairs, have a smoke and come back. There was an ashtray directly outside the south entrance. The South entrance is used by the janitorial staff, construction and maintenance staff, the employees in the know that use the entrance as a back door, up the steps, not a grand entrance via wood paneled elevator.

This past week the ashtray left, it is gone. I asked the maintenance man what the deal was. Turns out the new tenanants of the building (well over 100 employees) sent many complaints to the property manager about smokers in front of the south entrance. What the fuck people? Take the East entrance and leave me alone. I cant have my own space to engage in a perfectly legal activity? There are 4 main entrances into the building and "mine" is near the diesel generator and the dumpster, the least convenient and most service like of all the ways into the building. Yet now folks have nothing better to do than start up an email campaign to end my ability to smoke outside.

I guess the point is moot, since with a bit of luck, I will be a non smoker someday soon. However, I imagine even as a non smoker I will not approve of war on a legal activity engaged in during a legitimate break. What fools, I have often said, if there is one thing worse than a smoker it is a reformed smoker. Well not me, I will quit becuase I want to live. In my heart I will always be a smoker and will support those who have not yet mustered the courage to quit. Believe me, every smoker in the universe knows it is bad for them and want to quit someday. They do not need anyone to point it out or cajole them into stopping. It is a personal decision and one they will all have to make someday or suffer the consequences.

I no longer say to my peers that I am going to quit smoking, what I say is I am going to try. I have tried so many times and failed, it is shameful and embarassing when I triumphantly announce that I have quit yet a few days or weeks later I end up smoking agian. The best I can do is try. And try I will, wish me luck.

Therapy Animals

Ahh, at home resting comfortably. That is a blessed thing today, being able to eat regular food, albeit bland food, and sleeping in my own bed. Being able to take a hot shower at will and wear actual pants. The ability to watch what I want on television in my own recliner. These are precious things that I have been missing.

I was recently hospitalized for an emergency case of Pancreatitis caused by gall stones. I subseqently lost said organ to the surgeons knife and I am now recovering. I have very little experience with hospitals or modern health care as I have enjoyed a healthy life up till now.

While lying in my fairly uncomfortable hospital bed one afternoon during the ordeal, I hear a commotion from the other side of the curtain. Arriving to make my day are an older couple in some sort of uniform, carrying a dog. I didn't want to see the mutt, I don't like dogs much and I was also very grumpy. However, Daisy wanted to see what the deal was, so into the room come the couple with their "Therapy" dog.

Turns out these people volunteer to walk the wards of hospitals and spread cheer with thier terrier-like mutt "Gabby the Therapy Dog". The animal was wearing one of those knitted sweaters that people put on dogs. I mentioned that I was a cat person and on que "Gabby" was prompted to growl a fake growl at the notion of cats.

I wasn't cheered up at all by the "Therapy Dog" that was until I thought about the opposite, what about a "Therapy" cat? No that wouldnt work. The cat would not like being carried around and they do not growl on command, or anything else for that matter. At best the cat would look at a sick person with total ambivalence, at worst the animal would wish you were dead so it could eat your liver.

So we must reject the notion of a therapy cat. If they really wanted to cheer me up during my stay in the hospital the could have sent around "Bambi the Therapy Stripper" now that would have been theraputic!