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…from a night at the company Christmas party and out afterwards.
First off, we almost had to leave the Christmas party from the amount of smoking there, however I didn’t want to lose face before my bosses. That’s my fault I guess for being born in Alabama, where smokers rule, education drools, men are men and the sheep are scared.
After three hours of the de facto smoking chamber, I had to go and take a breathing treatment for my emphysema. Had we the laws in effect here that are in Seattle, I wouldn’t have damaged my standing in the eyes of my bosses by showing my weakness. But that’s my fault, too, for having a rare genetic disorder (AAT deficiency, look it up) that made me extraordinarily susceptible to pulmonary damage.
Afterward, we went to a little bar I frequent on a weekly basis. It’s the only place in this little town that has jazz on a weekly basis. In fact, it’s THE ONLY bar that delivers quality music on a regular basis.
Problem is, the smokers normally match the non-smokers tit for tat and make the air in there unsuitable for for those without a Phillip Morris product dangling from their lips. We left after a while, our friends in the band nodded in understanding as we dipped out early.
Sure, we don’t have to frequent the joint. Regardless of the fact that it’s the only place in this little town with a slightly cosmopolitan atmosphere, that it’s the only place that I can go and get my musical fix and talk with people who aren’t of the typical Freeper variety. That’s my fault for having such standards or predilections. Of course, it wouldn’t matter at any of the other live music venues in town as they are all smog factories, too. But that’s our fault, too, for loving music and wanting to listen to something not on CD. How dare we.
And my friends, the musicians who are starting to turn up with respiratory problems in their 40s despite the fact that they aren’t smoking, that’s their fault, too, for having musical gifts, for telling themselves when they were young that they would follow that dream. Shouldn’t every musician expect to be asthmatic by the time they are 50? If not, what were they thinking? How dare they be musicians!
I smoked for a while. I quit when I felt it affecting me but the damage didn’t stop there. It continued on until I was forced to seek a pulmonologist’s advice.
How dare I!! How dare I ask that the air be clear when I go somewhere to hear music. And, yes, I’m affecting the purity of my health by imbibing in alcohol. Those four drinks a week I sip in order to try and support jazz in my town must mean for sure that I don’t care how well I breathe. That’s what you tell me anyway. Since when did the license to sell alcohol carry an implicit rider that anyone coming in to buy that product will have to be subjected to something else entirely?
Some would say, “if you don’t like it, then leave.” You would be correct in a way – although that doesn’t take the weight from your usage of a perspective voiced by umpteen xenophobes and hyper-conservatives – although my marital and financial situation doesn’t allow that option at the moment. But I guess that’s my fault for finding a woman I love.
As such, I don’t have the freedom of mobility I had when I was single. Due to several dynamics -- not the least of which being the passive-aggressive domination games my wife’s family deploys -- we can no more move away from here than we could buy the Sears Tower. When you live in a two-bit town with a perpetually depressed and closed economy, you can’t afford to save up to move anywhere.
So my choices are the lung damage, or sitting outside in the weather to listen and contracting pneumonia (which I’ve done twice) from the ever-damp conditions. But that’s my fault for loving music.
In short, I’VE GOT NO FREAKIN’ CHOICE!! I either have to subject myself closer to the reality of being on oxygen within the next few years or resign myself to never hearing live jazz again while maintaining social ties with longtime friends.
By the attitudes of some, my only choice is to sit in my house night after night remembering what it was like to be a member of a community. Boy howdy, THAT sure sounds like a top-notch life. And, yes, I think it ridiculous that cigar bars and hookah bars are outlawed in certain areas. Those establishments are founded FOR THE EXPRESS PURPOSE of promoting tobacco use. That’s a big g-damn difference than purchasing a license that gives you permission to sell alcohol. Nothing in that alcohol license states anything about tobacco.
And for all you uber-defensive smokers who proclaim that I release more noxious fumes from my car than you do from you cigarettes (and you’re right), then when I drive my car into a bar and force you to inhale the exhaust in a closed space, just let me know. I’ll gladly pull it back outside again when you agree to do all your cigarette smoking outdoors.
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