"Cowardice asks the question...is it safe? Expediency asks the question...is it politic? Vanity asks the question...is it popular? But conscience asks the question...is it right? And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular but one must take it because it is right." ~Dr. Martin Luther King

Tuesday 11 November 2014

Whatever it takes

Once a resident complained about back yard fire pits. A family member had a rare allergy to smoke.

The resident also insisted it was her right to open all windows to circulate fresh air throughout the house.

A neighbour enjoyed his wood burning fire pit.

I never heard how the problem was resolved. I certainly could think of no satisfactory solution.

It seems to me any discussion on rights has to consider equal rights.

At what point does one person's rights infringe upon another.

Maybe options are the answer. One bar with a patio might be licensed for smokers  and another not; at the choice of the business operator.

Maybe space could be divvied up. A  legal definition of the word "public" could be written.

As in when public space is your space, my space,  air space, joint space, free space, private space or breathing space.

New York City recently decided to ban the sale of large size sugary soft drinks to solve the problem of obesity.

Right here, Sport Aurora  believes  more taxes are needed to provide more sports fields to solve the problem of obesity.

Then there would be more public space for bylaw patrols to ensure people are not polluting the planet by puffing on the dreaded lurgi or infamous weed known as tobacco.

The unemployment problem would soon  be solved.

I just remembered something. My grandfather smoked  Erinmore Tobacco. I loved  the smell. I liked it so much I tasted it once.

When the war started  Grampa switched to thick black plug.

He  also used to take a teaspoon of sugar after his meal. He stopped  that too when the war began.

It was like he  needed to sacrifice whatever small luxuries there were in his life.

Grampa was a coal miner.  Buried in the  black bowels of the earth

Walked  miles to and from work, wet clothes freezing on his body in the biting cold. Had to stand in front of the fire to thaw enough to remove them.

Come to think of it, a pipe of  tobacco was little enough reward.

Not unlike doctors and nurses dealing with sadness and sorrow every day of their lives. Needing whatever comfort comes  from a cigarette.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

My grandad used to have ashes on his vest from his pipe when we crawled up onto his lap. I love the smell still.

Anonymous said...

Outside Southlake, trying to keep an eye on their by-law parking enforcement team, I ran into a cardiac nurse having a cigarette. She hid it when a man came out & whispered that he was a surgeon. We both watched as he walked into the parking lot and lit a cigarette.

Anonymous said...

This new stuff about banning smoking is unenforceable and will be ignored. No by-law officers are going to approach a parent watching a soccer match from under a tree on a summer night.

Anonymous said...

You just jogged my memory of when I was a little girl and my grandfather. I loved the smell of his pipe tobacco smell. It was a very sweet smelling smoke. I was about 7yrs old when he taught me how to pack is pipe with his tobacco. While I was doing that he would be shinning up an apple for me. I loved doing that for him every night after dinner. He's been gone now for about 45 yrs. I still have that pipe of his. I so loved him. Thanks Evelyn.

Anonymous said...

Maybe KA-NON should try a relaxing pipe in the evenings. There is no need for him to inhale the stuff.

Anonymous said...

There was one Amphora blend that was fairly easy on the nose.

Anonymous said...

Perhaps we can all agree that there are more important matters that Ms Wynne could have spent some time on ?