Proud Friend
I just thought I'd take a moment to write about how proud of Scott I am for quittting smoking. I know what it's like; a year ago almost to the day I quit smoking after about 11 years of it. My decision was in part inspired by September 11, in that I was in Sacramento that week and my plane back was on September 12. So, I instead rented one of the last cars in northern California and drove home to Oklahoma because I had to teach on Friday and was already playing hookey a little bit to be in California in the first place (with a friend who was having surgery).

If you have ever driven Hwy 99 from the top of California down to the bottom, you know there ain't much to look at. But that day there was: about 800 other cars on the highway all zooming south at 90 mph. That highway *looked* like it was all stopped traffic sitting on the road, waiting for movement to resume--that's how close together the cars were--but in actuality they were moo-hoo-ving.

I knew that if I got off of this highway, merging back onto it would be nearly impossible or at least insanely frustrating. And I'd already been in several near-wrecks just from so many cars going so fast and packed in so tightly. I was out of cigarettes and a little panicked by several factors:
1. Is life in America going to go back to normal? I don't want Alas, Babylon to come true (my fave book from high school--oh heck, one of my faves now),
2. My god, is that crazy bitch over there next to me in that Durango going to try to get in front of me again? I mean, what is so enticing about this lane?
3. I am playing hookey from college, and not just as an attendant but as a teacher,
4. My parents have no clue where I am and if we all blow up before I get back to Oklahoma I am going to be in trouble even though I am 26 years old (I had not told them about my friend's surgery because it was female-oriented and they would have made me feel really stupid for going out there to see her because it seemed unnecessary...but really, she was so upset the whole time).

Anyway, it was on this long cigaretteless drive through the California desert that I decided to quit smoking. Not for any patriotic or sentimental reason...I just figured that this was a good time because everyone in the nation was preoccupied and so nobody would notice if I was in a foul mood. It was four days later, after gradual cutting down, that I had my last cigarette.

It's funny, you get a little older and suddenly it's wrong for you to put pressure on anyone to do much of anything that involves their own personal self. Do you know what I mean? When we were little, moms said things like, "Dress more nicely when we visit Grandma" and you did it. Or friends said, "Change your hair because it looks dumb" and you did it. Now that we're all grown-ups the commands have become requests because we're all respecting each other and stuff. Sheesh.

Well, I'm gonna just command Scott to do something, the way I'm not supposed to since I'm a grown-up. The command is: Don't quit quitting. Quitting smoking is an adventure and challenge that you need to experience because you will really and truly live longer for it. And once you get done quitting, then you will be able to say "I quat smoking" and you and your students can examine the age-old question of Why is it Sit/Sat but not Quit/Quat?

I am proud of you. If you screw up and smoke that's okay, but don't let it happen much and don't quit quitting. If you decide to lay low for a few weeks because you're afraid of biting someone's head off, I understand. But know that I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!!! (pinches cheek).