Smoking

Boy! Am I lucky! As a teenager, we referred to cigarettes as “coffin nails” and, later, as “cancer sticks.” Still later I saw the warnings in the ads and on the packs. Of course, I went ahead and smoked for 50 years anyhow, until I found out last year that I had cancer. So, why am I lucky? I read that all I have to do is disclaim any personal responsibility, find an unethical lawyer (shouldn’t be difficult), get a naive jury (again, not difficult), and I can get millions of dollars from the tobacco companies.

Oh shucks. It just occurred to me that I’m probably going to have to look in a mirror occasionally. Oh well, it was a neat idea for a few minutes.

FRED LEDEBOER

Thousand Oaks