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Grasping For A Gasp

May 29, 2014

“And I never, never, ever do a thing about the weather. For the weather never, ever does a thing for me!” A line quoted from “Sailor’s Hornpipe,” a minor song sung by the Dodo bird in the 1951 Disney film, Alice in Wonderland.

Discussions based on the subject of the weather are best reserved for and oft only referred to in three instances: 1. A pending or currently occurring severe weather condition. 2. How the weather will play into one’s plans in the immediate future. 3. When you have absolutely nothing else to talk about.

Well, since nothing is currently pending and we’ve made no plans (unless you’ve something in mind?) let’s go with number three and see where “nothing else” leads us.

In all actuality the topic of the weather may have more relevance and merit than one could imagine. Unless you’re totally oblivious to the world around you, you’ve had to have noticed the weather and that something is very wrong with it. In recent years the seasons seem to be clashing and colliding. Our winters keep getting longer, with a lingering cold and yet with decidedly less frozen precipitation. Summer seems to want to jump the gun, bursting through the winter winds so that we toggle back and forth—sweating, freezing; shorts, coats; boxers, briefs. All the while spring plays it coy, teasing us with its full arrival. It’s like someone took the meteorological deck of cards and decided to shuffle and re-deal in no particular order.

On a more ominous note, in biblical verse it is said that as the time of the end draws near man shall know not the seasons. For they shall become as one. That’s some pretty scary stuff but since for the moment we know that winter is over and summer is on the way we’ll leave that for the theologians to ponder.

Yes the cold is gone, the hot is on the way and spring has sprung all around us. Ah yes spring—the renewal of life; the hatching, the budding, the blooming, the growing, the f***ing pollen and allergens that fill the air and strangle us. Stupid spring with all its...its...umm...crap that clogs our sinuses. Eyes watering, itchy throat, sleepless nights spent hacking. Not to mention entire weekends lost because you were suffering the inability to breathe. Seriously, I’ve spent the last three days gasping for each shallow breath. It’s like having emphysema. It is so bad I can’t even smoke a cigarette...

We may have just stumbled upon the point of all of this...checking the title... yeah this would be it.

Regular readers know that I’ve been trying to, if not quit, at least cut back on smoking. This has gone on for years now with more failure than success. However now we reach a perplexingly critical juncture. If breathing itself has become a labored struggle why in hell would you do something that makes it even more difficult?

As I attempt time and time again to light up only to hack, gag and snuff out, the reality dawns. Smoking has not only become an addiction but has taken the next step into my subconscious. It has become a necessity to define normal; i.e., if I’m not able to smoke—something’s wrong. If I’m not smoking, I’m not me! I smoke...therefore I am? Not a slave to the habit but the definition of the habit.

OMG how pathetically sad that human beings can reach a point of defining our existence based on the habitual aspects of our nature. Something must be done! I would smoke it over and think it through but that seems counterproductive. Besides I can’t...well, unless I don’t mind not breathing.

Hmmm, is the lack of nicotine making me ramble or opening my eyes to a new path? Perhaps if I can redefine myself before my lungs clear out I will be free...but will I still be me? There is no immediate answer, only time will tell...I’ll keep you posted.

I welcome almost all questions and comments either through the Focus, or just E-mail me at Or you can FRIEND me on Facebook under Saw’s Brood!

Hope to hear from ya, until then try and stay focused. See ya!




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