My dad used to smoke a pipe. Kept his pipe and all his pipe gear handy by his E-Z-Boy. Just about all the dads smoked in those days. Not many dads rocked a pipe like Jerry Lee Lewis.
When dad lit up everybody would gather 'round and breathe in the sweet smoke. It did not say so in the Bible but we were all sure God smoked a bowlful in the evening after dinner too. Jesus, on the other hand, was more of a mushroom man.
When I got to be a teenager and began trying out all the cool dope my town's many pushers had for sale I got to thinking I was following in my dad's smoking footsteps. Us Hockeys were born to smoke the way politicians are born to blow smoke out of their ass into your face.
It took a while but now I have an E-Z-Boy too. Lucky for me I did not get hooked on the bad shit you can put in a pipe like my dad did. But I do sit in my chair that is big enough for two of my asses with a beer yelling stuff like, "What the fuck are you doing?" at the Canucks when they do not play hockey like Riot Gods.
2 comments:
Rebellion down the generations.
Sorta
puts me in mind of my old man's heritage. He's been dead over ten years. and he wouldn't have died "young" at the age of 92 if he hadn't smoked two packs of cigarettes every day for over 60 years. In the end he disconnected his tubes, walked out, had a final smoke and came back to fall into a coma. He died within 12 hours, and I didn't make it for his death.The old man had his own ideas about cashing in his chips. I did for my mother who was a lot more confused about dying. She died im my arms.
Well, it's a great privilege to be present at the death of one's parents.I hit one and missed one. My father was always a left wing social democrat. My mother was the same until she got old, learned Russian ,(she came from Simferopal Crimia, but the family dialect was hardly Russian), read Kropotkin and became an anarchist(from the Russian readings no less). Strange thing to do in your 80s.
From the Irish side of me "God bless her and carry her to her reward". Lord knows she endured enouigh on Earth. My mother was also a smoker, and she, once more. died "early" at the age of 89", from, of course, something totally disconnected from smoking ie an aortic aneurism.
May both of us be as brave when our time comes.
Your mom was like my grandmother except my more conservative gran went Rhino instead of Anarchist. My dad smoked just about as long as yours before he quit. Some of those years, during the time he served in the mighty Canadian military, he smoked five packs a day.
His breathing is not great now but he can still club a baby seal with the best of them.
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