@postaday 55; #postaday2011
Last night I grilled boneless pork chops while thunder rumbled in the Koolau mountains nearby. A rare show of lightning in Hawaii, and my Twitter friends who are Hawaii weathermen (@CurlyWeather and @firebomb56) assure me the unstable weather will continue today. I like it.
The new grill is taking some getting used to. It’s quite hot. The fat dripped down, the smoke rose and blew into the house. I opened the grill to flames, and tossed the chops with my long tongs. I shut the grill and turned it off, letting the residual heat finish the job. I worried that my garden umbrella would ignite from the flames. I worried it also might be a lightning rod, and somehow cause a fantastical explosion once the lightning reached the cast-iron umbrella stand so close to the grill that the propane tank and my pork chops would explode into ashen charred bits. Me, too.
But it didn’t. Here I am. Walking from the Keeaumoku Starbucks this morning I encountered cigarette smokers. This kind of smoke doesn’t seduce my culinary senses, it often sets my asthma on edge and triggers a coughing fit. Part of the reason I like to be on the water is because it soothes my lungs. The bicycle riding not only clears my head, but it also helps clear my lungs and sinuses. Smoking anything doesn’t fit in this picture. When I say ‘pass the doobie,’ I kid. I kid.
When I tweeted this morning that I was trying to avoid a cigarette, I learned how some people don’t know me very well. I wasn’t toying with a pack of cigarettes in my pocket. I don’t carry a lighter. I abhor the stink and I think people who smoke are unbearable to be around. Their skin exudes tobacco. Let’s not talk about their breath. I was trying to avoid three smokers who were walking along the same route as me toward work. One of those people works in the same Mothership as me. It’s hard for me to fathom how anyone can work in the health care industry and smoke. But, not having had the habit, I don’t know how hard it would be to break it.
Try asking me to get off my bicycle and maybe I can relate.
i smoked for 18 years, a pack a day.
i quit when i turned 18 and went away to college.
thanks, dad. but in all fairness, you didn’t know it would kill you until just before it did.