(Six Month Ramble) From Troutnut1 on 8/27/2001

STOP! DON`T TOUCH! LEAVE THE AREA! TELL AN ADULT!

These words from Eddie Eagle`s Gun Safety Program were the first words that popped into my head when I saw them.  I felt something square and familiar from a past life while cleaning out my travel trailer last week… I was handling a huge, black, goose down jacket that I keep there for emergencies...   and horrors...  in that very pocket was an unopened pack of my old favorite menthol 100 cigarettes!

STOP! DON`T TOUCH! LEAVE THE AREA! TELL AN ADULT! Rang in my head again as the true magnitude of the moment finally registered in my pea sized Troutnut1 brain...  So I followed my training and I ran into the cabin to tell Mrs. Troutnut...  who was the only suitable adult I could find in my remote corner of Montana, and was also my quit buddy having taken her last puff 6 months ago just like me.

Mrs. Troutnut`s eyes lit up upon hearing the news of my find, and you would think I discovered gold on our little property from the look on her face. I swear to you that the first words out of her mouth were `Regular or Menthol?  ‘ It occurred to me that I could be in big trouble.   It was beginning to appear that Mrs. Troutnut was no more of an adult than I am when it comes to nicotine addiction.  Fortunately, I was the one that smoked menthol and she was the one that smoked regulars.

Finding no suitable adult in the area, we made a plan.   I would sneak out to the trailer and bring back the unopened pack, while Mrs. Troutnut served as a witness.   It wasn`t the best plan in the world since she wasn`t exactly a disinterested third party, but it would have to do...   I approached the trailer and secured the dangerous cargo for the trip back to the house.  With all the care of a bomb-squad swat team member, I moved surely, swiftly, and carefully to retrieve the package and rushed it back to the waiting sink.  I carefully unfurled the little cellophane wrapper opener thingy, and pealed back just the corner of the shiny foil pack seal while Mrs. Troutnut wiped my brow for me.  One wrong move and KA-BLEW-WEE!!!  Two good quits could be blown to smithereens, and for us, the results would be far worse than any real bomb.  The death would be so much more slow and painful. TNT, Nitro, or C4 would certainly be more quick and merciful…   I let the water from the sink pour into the pack through the exposed corner.  I knew it wasn`t safe to pull any one of the little individual ciggies out of the pack...  Pulling any one of them would be much like pulling the rods on a nuclear reactor, and I knew it could easily set off one of the chain reaction thingies that would be completely unstoppable…  So Mrs. Troutnut and I took no chances and ran that water for a good two or three minutes without pulling a single one out just to make sure every individual reactor rod was completely soaked and neutralized.  Then I crushed the remains in my hand over and over again until the entire pack was unrecognizable and threw it in my trashcan.

Having narrowly escaped with our lives...  Mrs. Troutnut and I made plans to live happily ever after, and gave thanks to our Higher Power for having us to wake up sober, smober, healthy, and ALIVE for another day on this beautiful planet with so many friends that we love and care about, and so many that love and care about us…

So if you should find any of those little time bombs around your house, please remember my words, and those of our friend Eddie Eagle today:  STOP!  DON`T TOUCH!  LEAVE THE AREA!  TELL AN ADULT!

Your friend in Montana Troutnut1 (Dennis)