Of Vice and Men
I've been thinking a lot about vices lately. I have many--alcohol, sleeping pills (though some would argue this is a medical necessity and they were, after all, prescribed to me by my physician), cigarettes, and food, glorious food. I've been trying to diet lately--meaning, restrict myself to 1200 calories a day. And given my current health situation, I've given serious thought to trying to give up the smokes.
But it isn't even easy to think about.
Today I went home for my 200 calorie lunch. I decided to have a few chips and salsa while I waited for it to cook (approx. 150 calories). When I was finished, that bitch Giada was making cinnamon rolls (Food Network) so I needed something sweet. I went for the last Ding Dong in the cupboard, but now that Hostess wraps everything in plastic (not the foil of yore), it was painfully stale--so I ate half of it (approx. 150 calories) and made myself a Toaster Strudel. Strawberry. No icing (approx. 100 calories).
Now I'm back in my office noshing on a bag of Quaker Baked Cheddar Snack Mix (230 calories).
Why can't I stop eating? Why can't I stop smoking? Why did people start smoking in the first place if they knew it was bad for them?
Answer: they didn't know. Back in the day people drank and smoked and ate and screwed with reckless abandon. Pregnant women posed for pictures with a fag in one hand and a martini in the other. (Somehow, their children lived to see the pictures and be driven to therapy by the shock.) People kept cigarettes and booze prominently displayed on the coffee table for the enjoyment of their guests. It was all good, baby, all good.
Until people started dying.
But wouldn't we all have died anyway?
Maybe those things became vices because people decided somewhere along the line that mortality was for pussies. The desire to live longer and longer made it necessary to rid one's life of all those short-term pleasures that might hinder longevity. And if you can't do it, you damn sure don't want to have to watch someone else do it--right?
Oh, how I look forward to the day when someone discovers Top 40 music is a health hazard...
But it isn't even easy to think about.
Today I went home for my 200 calorie lunch. I decided to have a few chips and salsa while I waited for it to cook (approx. 150 calories). When I was finished, that bitch Giada was making cinnamon rolls (Food Network) so I needed something sweet. I went for the last Ding Dong in the cupboard, but now that Hostess wraps everything in plastic (not the foil of yore), it was painfully stale--so I ate half of it (approx. 150 calories) and made myself a Toaster Strudel. Strawberry. No icing (approx. 100 calories).
Now I'm back in my office noshing on a bag of Quaker Baked Cheddar Snack Mix (230 calories).
Why can't I stop eating? Why can't I stop smoking? Why did people start smoking in the first place if they knew it was bad for them?
Answer: they didn't know. Back in the day people drank and smoked and ate and screwed with reckless abandon. Pregnant women posed for pictures with a fag in one hand and a martini in the other. (Somehow, their children lived to see the pictures and be driven to therapy by the shock.) People kept cigarettes and booze prominently displayed on the coffee table for the enjoyment of their guests. It was all good, baby, all good.
Until people started dying.
But wouldn't we all have died anyway?
Maybe those things became vices because people decided somewhere along the line that mortality was for pussies. The desire to live longer and longer made it necessary to rid one's life of all those short-term pleasures that might hinder longevity. And if you can't do it, you damn sure don't want to have to watch someone else do it--right?
Oh, how I look forward to the day when someone discovers Top 40 music is a health hazard...
posted by Mitzi Green at 1:27 PM
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