Monday, October 1, 2012

Risky business

Full disclosure: I smoked for 3 weeks in 9th grade, back when a pack of smokes cost 35 cents and anyone was welcome to purchase them.  It seemed like a rite of passage I had to try and I'm often grateful that I didn't become hooked.  Actually, it's nothing shy of a miracle, given that my childhood airspace contained enough second hand smoke to rival China's skies.  

The dogs and I have a favorite route for our afternoon walk that takes us through a narrow side street where high school students gather at day's end.  Most are puffing away with great gusto when we make our way through.  Those I know by name look away from me and I wonder if they hope I might not recognize them if they turn their faces.

School's been in session for 4 weeks.  I guess they've got me beat.

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