Light it Up

There are two kinds of dirty.

There's the camping kind. The grubbiness. The greasy hair, the woodsmoke smell. The sweatiness that comes from living outside. The general dirt that comes with swimming in a lake and sleeping in a tent and not showering for several days.

And then the Saturday morning post-bar dirtiness. The hair and the coat that smell like cigarette smoke. The tired skin, with a glaze of day-old makeup. The clothes you've been wearing for 24 hours and slept in, the bad taste in a dry mouth.

(Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything).

A couple of months ago, Mike and I were talking at work about smoking . . . he pointed out that years ago, people probably sat at their desks and smoked cigarettes, while in the office. Which seems ridiculously unhealthy and unfathomable now . . . the idea that the smokers at our office could sit in their cubicles and light up. What?! Ha! Nobody would ever expect that.

So . . . it seems like only a matter of time until no one will be smoking indoors anywhere. When it will seem just as ridiculous to smoke in bar as it does to smoke at work. If my kids go out on Friday nights, they might come home slightly less dirty than I do, and not reeking of cigarette smoke.

And if they do reek, I'll know what they've been up to. Bad future kids.