September 22, 2013, around seven o’clock in the morning, I smoked my last Pall
Mall cigarette. It was the last one in my pack and the last one I ever intended
to inhale and exhale. I was going to give up tobacco for good.
In the midst of all of the harumphing
about this month’s chemical spill into a tributary of the Ohio River and
the nine-county ban on tap water for days, NPR recorded a West
Virginian saying, “Without water, we’re up a creek without a paddle.”