Dear Tobacco,
One thing you've got going for you is that you seem to treat everyone equally.
Going to a private High School on Vancouver Island gave me a wealth of opportunity to observe how you impact everyone with the same non-bias we all wish we had for the world. Be it the wise old instructor, the young 8th Grader, to the girl on the Greyhound bus in Vancouver - they all had relationships with you and all taught me things about you I hadn't thought about before. We'll talk about each of them in time.
The girl on the Greyhound wasn't anyone I knew, but she embodied everything I wanted to be at 16. I couldn't even tell you now what she was wearing then, but the sense I get when I remember her is one of patchoulie and hemp, cotton, leather, and earth. I think she had a hat, like a berrett, and had at least a sling bag (the big droopy kind that sways against your hip when you walk) if not a back-pack too. She was probably 18, and she was alone.
I've always admired solitary travellers. They know what they want, they are solely responsible for attending to their own needs, and they must be the ones to ask to make anything happen. It's an empowering thing to be able to walk confidently when travelling - even if you're totally lost :-)
The Greyhound had a 15 minute stop at the ferry terminal in which people could get out to stretch their legs before the ferry boarded. The hippie girl got out for a smoke. It was from her that I learned how to 'save a smoke' for next time, how to conserve you so that she could get another moment with you and that cigarette.
I observed her cherishing those moments with you, and then as we were called onto the bus she took one final romantic drag and then carefully pinched the tip (also known as the Cherry, as I learned later) so that the burning ember at the end fell to the pavement leaving only ready-to-burn tobacco left in her hand. She then popped the smoke back into the pack and brought herself and the scent of her satisfaction (you) back onto the bus.
This, to me and my 16 year old eyes - the ones that had only began to flirt with you - this was brilliant. Ingenious. It meant that there were no ashes, less stink in the pack, no squishing the end of the smoke, and no risk of the ember keeping burning. What a great trick!
I couldn't tell you if I ever employed this trick, but I did learn something about conservation and human nature that day. Humans savour their vices, and like to prolong them. If this means learning a new trick or developing a new tool we will! That girl was actually thinking ahead as to how to conserve her smokes either for reasons of money, addiction, availability, or whatnot... that mentality is impossible to ingrain in most kids most of the time, yet once you get them hooked on something they will find ways of keeping it around.
Pokemon might be addictive, but at least it doesn't coat everything it comes near in a haze of toxicity.
One thing you've got going for you is that you seem to treat everyone equally.
Going to a private High School on Vancouver Island gave me a wealth of opportunity to observe how you impact everyone with the same non-bias we all wish we had for the world. Be it the wise old instructor, the young 8th Grader, to the girl on the Greyhound bus in Vancouver - they all had relationships with you and all taught me things about you I hadn't thought about before. We'll talk about each of them in time.
The girl on the Greyhound wasn't anyone I knew, but she embodied everything I wanted to be at 16. I couldn't even tell you now what she was wearing then, but the sense I get when I remember her is one of patchoulie and hemp, cotton, leather, and earth. I think she had a hat, like a berrett, and had at least a sling bag (the big droopy kind that sways against your hip when you walk) if not a back-pack too. She was probably 18, and she was alone.
I've always admired solitary travellers. They know what they want, they are solely responsible for attending to their own needs, and they must be the ones to ask to make anything happen. It's an empowering thing to be able to walk confidently when travelling - even if you're totally lost :-)
The Greyhound had a 15 minute stop at the ferry terminal in which people could get out to stretch their legs before the ferry boarded. The hippie girl got out for a smoke. It was from her that I learned how to 'save a smoke' for next time, how to conserve you so that she could get another moment with you and that cigarette.
I observed her cherishing those moments with you, and then as we were called onto the bus she took one final romantic drag and then carefully pinched the tip (also known as the Cherry, as I learned later) so that the burning ember at the end fell to the pavement leaving only ready-to-burn tobacco left in her hand. She then popped the smoke back into the pack and brought herself and the scent of her satisfaction (you) back onto the bus.
This, to me and my 16 year old eyes - the ones that had only began to flirt with you - this was brilliant. Ingenious. It meant that there were no ashes, less stink in the pack, no squishing the end of the smoke, and no risk of the ember keeping burning. What a great trick!
I couldn't tell you if I ever employed this trick, but I did learn something about conservation and human nature that day. Humans savour their vices, and like to prolong them. If this means learning a new trick or developing a new tool we will! That girl was actually thinking ahead as to how to conserve her smokes either for reasons of money, addiction, availability, or whatnot... that mentality is impossible to ingrain in most kids most of the time, yet once you get them hooked on something they will find ways of keeping it around.
Pokemon might be addictive, but at least it doesn't coat everything it comes near in a haze of toxicity.
posted by Rea at
8:38 p.m.
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