Kickass and Tobacco Spitting by Bill Stokes

Attribution: University of Texas at Arlington Photograph Collection, CC BY 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

By Bill Stokes

Kickass, the doorstop dog, tries to be helpful as the keeper goes off on a Monday morning tangent and wonders where the tobacco industry located the spittoons at the POTUS birthday party on the White House trash dumping area?

Given that the target-participants were mostly those men who carry in their mouths the tobacco industry’s addictive pill of subservience to utter stupidity, they do require a place to spit in order to freshen up their poison.

The keeper’s family, like most, has been victimized by the nicotine profiteers in multiped ways, and it continues to this day.

It is a fact of history that there was once a time when spittoons were as much a part of life as doorknobs. They were all over, including the hallowed governmental environs.

During his newspaper column writing days, the keeper remembers covering a “tobacco spitting contest” in a small Wisconsin town where tobacco growing had once reigned. The memory does not stand out and the keeper will not be freshening it up for Phyllis’s benefit.