Friday, July 10, 2015

32,341 words & an observation

Peg & Puchinsky visit a mausoleum that holds 9,
but has only 8 occupants.
Marty Albrecht sits next to the Devil on a red-eye to Presque Isle.


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Not long ago, I saw a man smoking at the zoo. He was overweight, riding in a motorized chair, and breathing from an oxygen tank. A park attendant asked him to extinguish the cigarette, and he did.

What struck me wasn't the sad intersection of waning health and addiction (though that's what initially got my attention).

Instead it was how well preserved he was for his age. His cart appeared new and expensive (large, powerful, shiny bumpers and tires). He wore a crisp baseball jersey and matching shorts. And his skin was fair and nearly blemish-free, from his head to his toe, as though he'd rarely stepped out in the sun his whole life.

I used to smoke and understand the addiction well. I know why he was smoking when he couldn't walk or breath on his own.

But he struck me as someone who might still be alive because he could afford it, while those who suffered the same addiction in poverty were probably dead.

c0

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