Friday, January 24, 2003
One of Will's Roommates:"Kurt Vonnegut smokes unfiltered Lucky Strickes"Me:"Um, no, he doesn't. He smokes unfiltered Pall Mall's. Always has."
--- conversation on the connection of literary greatness and nicotine addiction
Through life we pick up tidbits of knowledge. Facts that we are sure we'll never actually need to know, but somehow we feel happier, more secure for knowing them. Take, for example, Kurt Vonnegut's smoke of choice. As an avid Vonnegut fan since discovering Welcome to the Monkey House at the age of fourteen, this is one of the choice tidbits of knowledge that I carry in my own very unique brain. He smokes unfiltered Pall Malls (like a chimney). In fact, I have actually seen him light an unfiltered Pall Mall in the middle of a decidedly non-smoking lecture hall to the delight of many adoring fans who had gathered to hear him speak. This is my area. This is something I know beyond a shadow of a doubt. And so, when someone says something lame, like to suggest that one of the greatest writers of our time smokes unfiltered Lucky Strikes (Do they even make those?), I must take it upon myself to correct said uninformed person.
However, in times of need for such valuable tidbits of knowledge, one must be careful of the company one keeps. At certain times, exposing yourself as the keeper of such knowledge can be uncomfortable. It usually becomes similar to a bad cartoon in which normal people arrive in a foreign land only to be crowned the Kings and Queens of a people they have never seen before in their lives.
I was a queen as I sat on the couch, admired by all for my love of Vonnegut and my indispensable use of trivia. Sometimes being queen is a glorious thing. And sometimes being queen takes you places that you really shouldn't go...
Heather at 11:48 AM
