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Saturday July 15th 2017Tim Candler9

 

    There's going to be yet another valiant effort by your correspondent to end an old and very favorite habit. I will of course be heroic, there'll be no tantrums, no throwing things, no wishing death upon anything or anyone that even looks cheerful and the last time I attempted to be heroic I had what I begin to believe was a psychosomatic reaction. I blew up like a balloon with an itchiness that has been described as Hives. A paltry and wholly inadequate description for an experience that lasted at least three days. It was all over the place, didn't sleep, became unbearable to live with, gave serious consideration to grave digging until finally I crawled into town to negotiate for a pack of cigarettes.

 

Past

    The thing about it was, as soon as I saw the OPEN sign flashing a welcome from the Tobacco Shed all balloon like symptoms evaporated, my mind was clear, I heard the angelic choir and I answered with a calm "Carton of Berley in Box, please." The question, what possible reason could there be to desert an old and faithful friend, a reliable comrade in time of stress who has been a provider of solace since something like 1965. The answer has a technical term, Chremato-Dento-Phobia, which is basically the common fear of wasting money on dentists. Yes indeed, the top teeth are shot, they're all coming out, the bottom teeth are more likely to be saved if I could give up cigarettes through the healing process. It'll be a Balancing Act which is a technical legal expression for those of us who may well have a Straight Jacket in their future.

 

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