No Smoking in the Rain

Rainy, rainy day. I'm not sure that I actually enjoy rainy days, so much as I enjoy the fact that I don't seem to be nearly as affected by them as those arround me. I suppose I could wax on about my Swedish heritage and how hundreds of generations of living under gray skies in the "land of the midnight sun" have steeled the Swedes and those whose fathers scored Swedish girls against the depression induced by gray skies. But Sweden has one of the highest national suicide rates in the world, so that would not ring true. Swedes apparently react to rain and clouds by closing the garage door on their running Volvo... but, knowing Swedes, they probably wear their seatbelt for this operation.

I think part of what appeals to me about rain is the same as what appeals to me about snow. It sends everybody running for shelter. It clears the streets. For the most part, your biggest assholes, those obsessed with their appearance or too spoiled to risk a chill or any discomfort whatsoever, run for safe confines, and the world outside achieves a sort of asshole-less utopian feel. Yes, I know it's not perfect. Some assholes are water-proof or so relish the shittyness they dole out on a daily basis, even inclement weather won't keep them from their calling. But, there are less of them. (The preceding paragraph could have easily been replaced by quoting Robert Deniro's character in Taxi Driver, saying the famous line, "Someday a real rain will come and wash all this scum off the streets.")

I quit smoking two days ago. This began as an act of bravado following my girlfriend commenting that I smoke too much as we sat on the couch watching television. I immediately broke my last cigarette in half and said, "O.K. I quit." Very macho. If only quitting cocaine had involved jumping a motorcycle over flaming barrels, or a pond full of piranhas, I might have kicked it much sooner than I did. Unfortunately most positive change in the world is the work of un-romantic, fairly tedious drudgery... like Non-Governmental Organizations, public education and highway adoption.

Anyway, what my lungs need is a real rain to come and wash the scum out of them, but I suppose I'll just breath in and out for 20 years and see what happens.