ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Wednesday, December 11, 1996 TAG: 9612110074
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: BEN BEAGLE
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE
I recently finished my daily grueling workout, which would make Richard Simmons run home to his mother, when an old temptation returned.
I won't get into how this pack of unfiltered Camels happened to be on the desk beside the partially done jigsaw puzzle - Joe Camel right there inviting a puff - but there it was, tempting me.
I started humming that old jingle about walking a mile for a mild, mild Camel. I also started looking for something to light up with.
The above behavior was particularly disgusting because I never was a Camels person. I puffed Lucky Strikes and Chesterfields for years and closed out a lung-destroying career with Winston Light 100s. After chewing two tons of Nicorette gum and dislodging $2,000 worth of fillings, I was free of the habit.
I smelled the pack of Camels. And I saw Humphrey Bogart with an unfiltered job hanging off his lip, and I saw Ingrid Bergman's eyes. I could have sworn somebody was playing "As Time Goes By" on the piano.
We don't have a piano, and I will never be forgiven for that - despite the fact that we've never had a house big enough for us and a piano, too.
I always say give me enough room for a queen-size bed and I'm happy. I don't need somebody playing "Claire de Lune" and stuff like that.
I think the guilt about the lack of a piano was the reason I smoked so much - that I was ashamed my children would never become whole men or women.
I mean, what kind of a man sends his children out into the world without knowing how to play "Rhapsody in Blue''? Or "Chopsticks" at least.
Anyway, my morals were giving, and I thought about taking the pack down in the woods and lighting up. Sure. One puff of smoke, and Happy Highfields Road would know about it. I'd be blackballed at the next homeowners' association meeting. Before the hot dogs were ready.
My dog Millie looked at me with sad eyes, and I didn't know whether she was worried about me smoking again or was having a reaction to her latest antibiotic.
I put the pack down and vacuumed up the peanut debris around the chair I usually sit in. I don't know about you, but vacuuming things up de-stresses me.
"Look," a devoted family member, whose life has been blighted because of an inability to play the piano, said later. "He didn't open the pack of Camels."
"Camels?" I said. "What pack of Camels would that be?"
LENGTH: Short : 50 linesby CNB