Coffee House

So I went to see him and he tried scare-smoker horror stories. I thought what am I an idiot. I had a class-mate in high-school, he an older guy mid-twenties, came back to school to get his diploma. Sat at our table in art class, six or so of us and told us one day when he had job in a hospital, he had seen smoker's lungs during operations and after death. He said that first time he went out-back and threw his cigarette pack away. Were not all stupid I said to my lecturer. But telling us what we know already, makes us think you are stupid.

The last time I saw John was when I took him up on Bernal Hill one night in the dark, and we had to climb down a cliff and jump down the last four feet to the road. I forgot to tell him there was a road-way drain with an elevated edge of a couple of inches. He jumped onto the edge and twisted his ankle and was due to go skying the next day up in Reno. I didn't do it on purpose, at least not consciously, but he probably thought I did so I never saw him again.

Another member of our group for awhile was a chiropractor. He was older near fifty, a bit heavy-set, jowly and worked out of his house some blocks away west. He liked to tell me to sit up straight like my grandparents used to. I said it hurts to sit straight. My theory was that when standing my back was inverse curved inward. So when I sat, it should be curved outward to sort of balance it out. I don't think I have been proven wrong. I am pain free, although I have a weak back and don't sit up.

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