Friday, October 13, 2006  In which I rant for a reason  I don't
like smoking.  Anyone who knows me, knows that. Cigarette smoke
bothers me, and though I try not to be militant, I probably am.
The smell bothers me, and if I'm around it for long, it gives me
a headache.  I'm not as bothered by cigars and pipes, by the
way, partly because they remind me of my grandfathers, and
partly because there just aren't as many of them around (at
least, where I am).  But cigarettes? Yuck. Big yuck. I cuss at
cars in front of me with plumes of smoke blown out their windows
(I'm trying to breathe back here!), and really get peeved at the
smokers, driving or not, who throw their butts away like the
nasty things vanish on the ground.  So why rant now? Well, I'll
tell you. After spending the last month basing virtually my
every move upon my planned close day for the condo, it has to be
pushed into November. Why? Because there was a fire in the
building. Why was there a fire? Because another tenant was
smoking in bed.  It is rar