Cigarette

Cigarette: (n) a thin cylinder of finely cut tobacco rolled in paper for smoking.

If you live long enough you will see nearly everything in your life go through the natural Earth cycle.

It begins with “interesting.”

Then it becomes “cool.”

It passes through a phase of being “plagued with some difficulty.”

Following that comes “seems dangerous.”

And of course, the final step is “lethal.”

It doesn’t matter what you’re talking about. Why don’t we take something that would seem unlikely to apply to this category–like politics?

When the idea of starting a democracy in the New World was tossed on the table for discussion, it was deemed very interesting–so much so that we wrote several documents and put together a club.

After the club got together for a few meetings over some “brews and snuff,” we were enamored with the possibility–just jazzed with its coolness.

So we started political parties. The consensus was there should be at least two so there could be discussion. But immediately each party desired to be the predominant one, which led to some nasty exchanges, false accusations, and the introduction of cheating. Election after election began to prove out that winning was more important than truth, justice and the American Way. Difficulty arrived like a “plague of congress.”

So laws had to be passed because we were in danger of losing the freedom we had hoped to achieve because we allowed the politics to steer policy.

And then, all at once, with one cracky voice, the people proclaimed, “Politics is damn lethal.”

I bring this up because the same thing happened in my lifetime–and yours–with cigarettes.

At first they were interesting. Then cool. Next, plagued with some difficulty, proclaimed dangerous, and now seen as a nasty piece of our social sappiness, murdering people with tar and nicotine.

I often wonder if it’s possible to stop, while musing over something being interesting–and jump ahead to find out if it’s deadly.

 

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Chain Smoke

Chain smoke: (v) to smoke continually, especially by lighting a new cigarette from the butt of the last one smoked

I never saw my dad smoke a chain. Yet this is what my nine-year-old mind tried to envision when my mother yelled at him and told him he
was nothing but a “damn chain smoker.”

I was aware that my father smoked cigarettes. Actually, he rolled his own. I think he saw it in a movie Western and thought it was cool, manly, and decided to take it up as a practice.

So he bought the tobacco, the papers and pretended he was the Marlboro Man.

He smoked continually. After the passing of time, he mainly smoked so he could keep from coughing. Yes–the absence of the smoke filling his lungs was such a shock to his system that he desperately needed to inhale the tobacco to make him feel normal again. For every morning in our home began with a coughing fit, lasting about twenty minutes.

I knew it was over when the smell of cigarette came floating through the house and I arose from my bed, and walked to stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, around the little speckles of my papa’s spittle.

I was the son of a smoker who decided never to smoke.

I was the son of a mother who spent a lot of time bitching, only driving her husband to more rolling and lighting.

 

Smoking is a vice.

Chain smoking is committing suicide–one drag at a time.

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Appetizer

dictionary with letter A

Ap·pe·tiz·er (n.): a small dish of food or a drink taken before a meal or the main course of a meal to stimulate one’s appetite.

Wow.

I know that’s not a very good beginning to an essay, but I did not realize that the purpose of an appetizer was to get me interested in food.

Even with Webster’s often-bizarre definitions, that one is way off the mark.

Everyone knows what an appetizer is: to give you something to eat while you’re impatiently waiting for the food you want to eat.

It’s why, when you’re impatiently standing over your pot of spaghetti, you open up a package of potato chips lying on the counter and indulge. After all, the spaghetti has taken too long, right?

Once you have a certain amount of passion for a project, because we are infested with impatience, time passes very slowly.

Even in the world of romance, we have kissing to keep us hot while we pursue fondling and end with the main course.

I guess kissing is an appetizer. What appetizer would you compare it to?

  • Certainly not nachos. Too spicy.
  • Since there’s some “frenching” involved with it, maybe some fries.
  • I don’t know–you can insert your choice. Wait! I think I’ve arrived at it: mozzarella sticks with a little mariana sauce.

There you go. End of discussion.

I always get tickled when we come up with such dainty descriptions and definitions for our more animalistic appetites.

Back to the subject of romance–we often tell people that we were “making love” instead of “grinding and humping.” Sounds more appetizing.

So appetizers are devoured sometimes even without recognition of content, simply to pass the time while the waitress fails to bring our food because, unknown to us, she went on break and was really interested in this one particular cigarette.

 

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix