Wednesday, March 19, 2008

In driving back to Kansas. . .

. . .preparations have to be made.

Without an iPod, CD-R's need to be made. Snacks must be acquired. And Sonic Drive Thru's along the interstate, mapped.

The most demanding is having to re-learn how to smoke. I've reached the age where my body and I are as polarized as ice caps. Before, I could drive the entire stretch of I-70 in one sitting, arriving at my destination with Gatorade bottles of urine packed in the backseat. Now, weariness sets in after a few hours. The vehicle tends to flirt with the shoulder of the road. Smoking counter-acts this. More than a stimulant, it's an activity that keeps the head whirring, and the hands active.

I drop the habit as soon as I return home. Re-filling the zippo only days before the next venture. But it gets harder and harder each time to pick the habit back up. . .

. . . and not enjoy it.

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