Saturday, September 11, 2004

Dear Turlough

First off, a few clarifications:

I'm from Canada, not the States, and we do, in fact, have rollies here. We're even supposed to measure in kilograms, centimeters, that kind of thing, but for some reason I've converted to an imperial measurement type in my adulthood. Must bee the newspaper industry -- measuring everything in inches, picas, points, agate lines. Feh.

Secondly, for what it's worth, schizophrenia is spelled...well, schizophrenia.

Lastly, thanks for sharing the dark secret. I won't go so far as to say that I'm honoured that you chose to share that with me, but I am, at least, not noticeably creeped out by it.

Anyway, on to the smoking issue.

Believe it or, I'd rather hear that you're a smoker yourself (or a reformed smoker, as I was suspecting you -- or Doctor Pat -- were; there was that hint of 'holier-than-thou' that reformed smokers can get sometimes ;) because it means the advice is coming from someone who's been there. I'd much rather have that for encouragement then someone who's never smoked a day in his life saying, "Gee, that must be really tough for you."

I'm very aware of the overcompensating with the eating, and I have been watching it, even though I've been guilty of it now and then too. I'm glad you suggested filling my time with activities -- well, glad that *someone* mentioned it -- as an alternative to sitting around and thinking about how badly I want a cigarette. I'll be making an effort towards that...

...just as soon as kick this freaking cold that descended on me yesterday afternoon.

It's kind of a blessing in disguise, actually, as my appetite is toast, so even if I wanted to compensate for the smoking with food, there's no craving. On top of that, there's really not much of a craving for the cigarettes right now either. Perhaps if all goes well I'll be over the first smoking hurdle by the time I'm healthy again? One can only hope.

Thanks for touching bases with a complete stranger to offer advice and encouragement in what is, without a doubt, a difficult thing to overcome. And I wish you the best of luck in your struggles with the vile drug that is nicotine.

2 comments:

Todd said...

Donning my editor's cap for a moment, I should point out that it's "Betty Boop" and not "Betty Boo". Unless there's a ghostly Betty Boop knock-off -- that'd be kind of cool.

One of the greatest things about the Internet is the ability to have random chats with people from all over the world. I remember, years ago -- probably 10 years, now, come to think of it -- hanging out in IRC with a woman from Washington DC on the night that she spontaneously decided to propose to her boyfriend. I still in the chat room when he came home, and waited patiently as she left the keyboard, then came back to the computer long enough to tell me that he had said yes. I had never talked to her before, and never talked to her again, and yet I had the opportunity to share that special moment with her, albeit electronically. It was very, very cool.

I've heard of vegemite, but never tried the stuff. It's dreadful. What's it taste like?

Oh, and I'm familiar with the rhyming slang too -- I think I saw it in a movie somewhere, but can't think now of what movie that was. Either way, I love the notion of referring to Yanks as Septics. Wonderfully appropriate.

Your philosophy question has been simmering in the back of my brain all day. It's a great question, though the notion that there was a "right" answer kind of goes against what I would consider philosphy to be. In the most basic sense, though, if you were to break down the english language into either statements or questions, your example is clearly a question. On the other hand, trying to define something that can not be identified until it's defined...well, that just makes my head hurt.

What's your essay on, btw?

Todd said...

Dunno what "The Simpons" are -- "The Simpsons" maybe? I'm guess -- so I'm not 100% sure if the address you gave worked or not. Still, "Kim Yoo Suk" is pretty funny.

Love the subject of your essay. Maybe it sounds dull but, I dunno...I think it's the sort of thing that could be a lot of fun to do. A *lot* of stuff has shifted since the inception of television, particularly away from the public and into our living rooms. Television was sort of the first step in creating a very isolated lifestyle which, I think, many of us either accept for fight to get away from. Still not sure where I sit on it -- I haven't had cable TV in years, yet still remain mostly isolated thanks to the Internet replacing TV in my home. It's television 2.0, in some ways.

Whereabouts in Canada? Country boy, west coast, just about smack-dab in the center of the province. A little hole called Williams Lake. Small enough that you actually recognize the majority of the people that you pass on the street, but large enough that you have a handful of pubs to choose from on a Friday night. It's actually a nice enough place to call home, but I've been here for pretty much my whole life, so occasionally I do get struck with the desire to see something else one day. Someday. Eventually.

You haven't asked what I do yet, either, so I'll just pre-empt the question and say that I work at a newspaper and leave at that. If you want any more info, you can ask for it.

As for celebrities...well, I don't have much to compare with living next to Bono or e-mailing olympic pole-vaulters, and nothing particularly Canadian (though I'd be just as keen for lunch with Alanis as you would) but I did meet Tony Danza a couple of years back, outside of a Vancouver hotel where a newspaper convention was being held. It was late, and the bunch of us were drunk and outside smoking, when a limo pulls up and out comes -- TONY DANZA. As he walked past, my then wife shouts out, "We love you Tony!" in a wonderfully sarcastic-but-almost-sincere-which-somehow-makes-it-a-bit-more-sarcastic tone. He waves and smiles and...then continues on his way.

Ah, the brushes with fame.

Oh, and many, many years ago I saw Ray Bradbury try to bully his way into a movie at Expo 86 in Vancouver with the traditional "Don't you know who I am? I'm Ray Bradbury!"

That's pretty much it.

Not representing my country, really. Still, I argue that they're still good stories. C'mon, you can't go wrong with Tony-fricking-Danza.



Todd


PS: You're welcome to click the e-mail link on the right hand side of the blog and take this conversation out of the comments. Or not.

T.