SOMEWHERE OUTSIDE OF WHICHITA

My morning routine is very simple: Coffee, pills, and out of the house for the first pipe of the day, with a walking stick to clobber nuts (never needed, the implied threat is sufficient). Those six or eight blocks walking with a smoke during the time of day when this city is quiet and beautiful in the early light are enough to make my disposition sunny and bright. My apartment mate, on the other hand, is a more complex creature. A hot beverage with honey, ginger, and milk mixed into caffeine-rich liquid, something edible (starchy or deepfried, often combining animal protein and cereal-based substances, plus grease), disputation with a stuffed turkey vulture as well as a one-legged monkey, and, this morning, episodes Tombstone Territory.
She calls it "breakfast".

What is this concept "breakfast", o small yellow woman?
This severe Caucky Protestant just doesn't "get" it.

That is to say, I've never needed food first thing.
Caffeine, refined white sugar, and nicotine.


This probably explains why she is STILL nine years younger than me, hale and hearty, and full of vigour. Whereas I am a dried-up old stick insect of middle-aged years.

Women, as is well known, wake up ravenous. And if food is unavailable, will wail and wave their front paws frantically, before going out to slaughter a wild animal. Which is why all those girls are walking their dogs before eight in the morning, I suppose, they just look innocent. The karmic aura of fresh kill and raw meats adheres to them, and trails in their wakes as they stroll along Larkin Street picking-up pooh.


Ah, that first smoke of the day, it smells like ... victory.

SILVER BANDED BILLIARD, JOHN'S LOS ANGELES

In many ways, I am glad we don't have a pet dog. Given that I am out of the house first, with my tobacco, undoubtedly I would be tasked with pooh duty. "Here. Go walk Spot, and pick up after him. You're already handling stinky stuff anyway ... " She'd hand me one or two little plastic bags, then settle down with her hot beverage in front of the teevee to watch strong trim clean shaven men in the Old West firing guns at each other, in between intervals with dangerous conniving women. Along with the turkey vulture.
And a plate of grease-rich edible substances.
Breakfast of champions.

I thoroughly enjoy that first walk of the day.
I'm kind of a health nut.

TOBACCO INDEX


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