Last night I attended my grandmother’s 85th birthday. The theme was “The Roaring 20’s” and let me tell you, it was the bomb.
And not just because my grandmother, at the age of eighty five, still has the stones not only to throw a party, but to dress up like a “flapper,” as well as throw back gin martinis like prohibition was starting on Monday.
And what about me….? Well, I was the cat’s meow.

Petty good for dropping $25 cash at the Goodwill the day before the event.
The were also other flapper girls there.

And of course there were angry, Irish-Vietnamese golfers.

But the thing that I loved about this party was the “F.U.” to political correctness. There was a “cigarette girl” going around “selling” cigarettes. Sure they were candy cigarettes….

Also there were a bunch of those extended cigarette holders with amazingly realistic cigarettes in them. When you blow into them, they glow red and emitted something that at least looked like smoke.

My six year old was running around with one in her mouth all night.
Nobody was worried that we were “sending a bad message” to the youth. Because guess what? That’s the way it was back in the 20’s…..people smoked their fucking ass off. Remember FDR? He smoked like a friggin’ chimney, and he kicked Hitler’s ass. Yes, I know he took office in the thirties, but you know he was smoking extra-long, unfiltered, double nicotine cigs in the 20’s.
As I have written about before, I have never smoked a cigarette in my life. It’s just not my thing. But I am not an anti-smoking Nazi. As long as it is not in an airplane or restaurant where I can’t get away from it, then go ahead, “smoke ,em up Johnny,” it’s your funeral, not mine. But I still feel that you have the right to make that decision without me or the government sticking our nose in it.
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