Guilty Pleasure

            There are many things I enjoy in life. Few of theses things come with mixed feelings of embarrassment or guilt. However, one thing that I sincerely enjoy and feel both guilt and embarrassment about is the occasional smoking of cigars.  I feel that the “why I feel guilty” is fairly obvious considering the health risks of smoking any tobacco product. I try to stay healthy in almost every other aspect in life such as diet and exercise, so to sit down and enjoy a cigar seems completely contradictory and hypocritical. I don’t lie to myself and pretend that being healthy somehow off sets the risk or that because I do it very seldom it isn’t as bad. I am fully aware of the risks I take when choosing to smoke, thus the feeling of guilt. My parents, whom I highly respect, would also be quite disappointed. Not only at the fact that I smoke cigars but also that I willing shell out 10 or more dollars for a rare cigar. This is why I am still embarrassed to talk about it with them. All of this considered, what is it about cigars that makes it worth while and so pleasurable? For me cigar smoking is pleasurable for two reasons. The first reason isn’t about the act of smoking at all. It is more about good conversation, spending time with friends and relaxing as the smoke curls in the air. I even have begun to associate the sweet cigar aroma with good times. Now, every time I catch a whisp of cigar smoke, I am reminded of the time spent among friends sharing a cigar. Secondly, I sincerely enjoy a complex blending of flavors that you can only find in a quality smoke. I don’t do it to satisfy an addiction and I have yet to see a cigar smoker huddled in a corner getting a “fix” on break, which I frequently see with cigarette smokers. The flavors seem to soothe your tongue and enhance the meditative process. Feeling the hearty smoke roll onto your tongue and that interestingly distinct sweet spice flavor tingles in your mouth. All in all cigar smoking is as much about the experience as the enjoyment of the cigar itself. I am not proud of the fact that I have chosen this to be my guilty pleasure in life but I cannot say that I am entirely ashamed of it either.

Summary

Ben Saunders Skis Across the North Pole

www.ted.com

The feeling of being alone is one that almost all humans can relate to. However, one man may have a better understanding than most. Ben Saunders spent nearly three months on top of the world in a desolate, frozen landscape completely alone. Ben Saunders’ story is one of hardship, endurance and pure inspiration.

            It is hard to imagine the sheer vastness of being the only human being in an area almost one and a half times larger than the United States. However that’s where the journey began for Saunders. He set off with a sled of gear dragging behind; containing only the equipment necessary for survival. The one-man “dog” sled team embarked. He would travel a distance equivalent to 31 marathons back to back. The passage tested Saunders physically and mentally. The thought of his family, his girlfriend and the glamour of success drove him forward. Reaching the North Pole alone is something that only four people in the world can boast and many explorers claim that the feat is greater than climbing Mt. Everest. Saunders came to “test his limits.” He didn’t want to be one of those people “who go through life only scratching the surface of true potential.” At age twenty-three he had done something truly amazing.

            Finally he reached ninety degrees north latitude. Unfortunately a journey to the North Pole finishes somewhat anti-climactically. The view from the top of the world is not much different from what Saunders had experienced over the past month of his journey. Yet, after coming all that way he couldn’t help but “ponder the weirdness of the moment that the entire planet was rotating beneath” him. The return journey went faster. He new that he had accomplished what he set out to do and this gave him peace of mind.

~”Ben lacks impetus to achieve anything worthwhile.”  The Teacher’s Comments of

Saunders 4^th Grade Report Card

Mundane Act

As I stepped down from the final step of the stairwell leading to the basement a heavy cloak of darkness was draped over me. The realization that this is where I would spend the next two hours of my life brought a terrible sinking feeling along with it. The intense heat suffocated me for an instant almost sending me into a panic. My eyes were locked on two white rectangular objects on the far wall of the room. I walked over to them and unloaded the contents of the basket I had been carrying into one of them. As the blur of colors fell into the rectangular machine a smell of tangy sweat stung my nose. I repulsed slightly at the pungent odor and quickly started the machine.  I took a step back and sat in a chair that faced the white rectangles as if a job interview was about to begin. When the blank machine began to vibrate in a low hum a completely different mood slowly creped upon me.  As I sat there listening to the reverberating vibrations bellowing throughout the room I couldn’t help but find myself becoming increasingly more relaxed, despite the unfamiliar environment I had just entered. My mind slowly began to drift further away as the tides of consciousness receded with every warm vibration that entered my ears. I soon was imagining myself on beaches and in fields of green grasses and then Christmas with my family smiling around a fire. I could almost feel the loving lick of my dog’s tongue on my cheek as she greeted me at the door. Suddenly my body jerked as consciousness returned in a tidal wave. The white rectangular machine began buzzing loudly as if it had grown jealous of my relaxation as it toiled away. I got up, not realizing that almost an hours time has elapsed, and put an end to the annoying sound. Almost immediately the discomforting silence returned to me. I removed the rainbow of wet clothing from the first machine and placed it into the second. I sat down again and waited for the journeys to begin.

Thursday Sep. 8

My ambition to write is sporadic and often totally random. It usually hits me in “urges” when the ideas seem to be flowing in my head. Therefore choosing my ideal writing place is difficult because it is almost totally dependent upon when my mind shifts into the right gear. Most frequently I am able to produce my best work about an hour before bed when I am alone. I am quite active during the day so to sit down at noon and think about a piece of writing is hard for me. If I have to tackle a major writing assignment it is sometimes helpful to put on some relaxing music to help me reach my optimal writing mindset. Then once the ideas kick in I’m ready to throw them onto paper.  When ideas do spring up I usually just vomit all of them onto the page and sort through the chunks later. If I take time to pick through every grammatical detail the first time I will burden the flow of ideas and the work will quickly become tedious. Often times I don’t even write in consecutive order. Usually whatever is on my mind at the time is what I approach first and my arguments sort of puzzle-piece themselves together. As far as revision goes I often need help seeing things from different angles than my own. I will usually recognize that something is wrong but where I will struggle is in fixing that specific idea without losing its original meaning. Using correct grammar is not a strong suit of mine and I try to spend time working with a partner or someone who does understand all of the grammatical intricacies of writing. Personally, if the message is clear the grammar is less important, but unfortunately that policy doesn’t work in school.