We all have them.
What are they really but moments full of regret, otherwise we’d all be bragging, right?
I have a few.
Most will go with me to the grave. No one knows everything. Thank God.
But when you’re blogging, and you realize that the uniweb LOVES a secret, you tend to reconsider the value of a secret- like, is it something you can reveal that you won’t regret? What will be the reaction? Should it be told? Who will it hurt? Can it get you traction? (let’s be serious- that’s the real question)
The hell with all that- I smoke.
As a matter of fact, I’m smoking right now! And I’m loving it!
I may be the last person on Earth. Certainly the last highly educated 21st century American left with a death wish.
I know. I know. It’s bad for me.
Like overloading on Cable News and drinking too much wine (oops- other secrets).
How I miss the days of olde when my doctor actually fired-up a cowboy whilst examining my bone x-ray and offered up a lady-like menthol as a congratulatory measure for only a fracture instead of a break.
How I miss those shiny brass ashtrays in elevators when the lift operator offered to take your coat and light your Chesterfield as the door retracted and you exited in a fog machine of your own making- like a music video- but before music videos.
How I miss the soft blue plum of exhale after a fine meal where the ashtrays were heavy Baccarat and emptied on cue. I always felt better in blue light and heavy perfume.
True Story: I actually lobbied my High School Board and the Principal into allowing us students a special place to smoke- in school. How I did this, I don’t have a God damn clue, but I did it. It was the 70’s, and I clearly should be negotiating for peace in the Middle East.
So you can imagine my delight, when upon a stroll down Royal St. in the French Quarter, I happened upon an artist’s studio where he had paid homage to the glorious days of rugged Vice Admiral Marlboro and his Camel non-filters.
I dropped to my knees and spoke to the Lucky God’s of Strike for not forgetting me and my lot.
“We Love The Virginians and we like ’em Slim“, I cried.
“All Hail the great leaders of our time, for it is the Winston Churchill’s and Clark Kent‘s that have saved us from tyranny and the people who feel the need to save us from ourselves,”shouted another.
And the crowd, that was building with each strike of sand upon sulfur, bellowed, “We demand a new seating of Parliament, to be held in Newport Beach, to show our American Spirit and preview Ralph Lauren’s Fall collection!”
What? We’re a bit off track here.
At this point, I knew I had incited a riot of Bourbon Faced on Shit Street leftovers that did not hold in high esteem, or personal sobriety, the gravity of the artists statement and the forgotten meaning it conveyed. I suddenly wanted the Kool quiet space of my oak paneled library with a scotch rocks and the soft feel of my jacket- my smoking jacket.
Finding a group of like minded compatriots has always been… a Lark.
|Ya gotta love NOLA!|