ACURA MDX CABIN AIR FILTER

Snug as a Bug (I Can Read!)

Level-one readers will enjoy reading this delightful rhyming bedtime story. They'll learn that God has given animals places they can sleep. And while God loves animals, he has a special love for children. Humorous and colorful illustrations make this a fun book to read over and over again.

Level-one readers will enjoy reading this delightful rhyming bedtime story. They'll learn that God has given animals places they can sleep. And while God loves animals, he has a special love for children. Humorous and colorful illustrations make this a fun book to read over and over again.

At some point early on in my eastward journey, I went in to a convenience store, or whatever passed for such in Canada back in the day, and asked to buy some rolling papers and some tobacco. I had it in my head that learning to roll cigarettes was a good talent to have. I had never smoked cigarettes up to that point, at least, not habitually. I can't say when or where I had ever smoked an individual cigarette before, but I suppose I had.
I must not have made myself clear, because the clerk handed me not rolling papers and tobacco, but a pack of cigarettes. She wasn't just handing me any cigarette either: she handed me a pack of McDonald's Export A's. Maybe I had asked for McDonald's rolling paper, or McDonald's tobacco. How I knew about this brand I couldn't tell you---had we already started, back at school in Philadelphia, our infatuation with foreign cigarettes that would take us to Players and Gitanes? I suppose so, but I don't remember. I do remember that the packaging for McDonald's Export A was particularly appealing----all green and red, with a picture of a fetching Scottish lassie in a kilt (this is my memory of it; the actuality may have been something different).
So now that I had a pack of cigarettes, I had to do something with it. Or them. The most logical thing seemed to be to smoke them. And truth be told---out on the highway, in one spot for hours on end, with no traffic coming or going, no company, the necessity to stand (it looked stupid to be sitting on the ground and then to get up when a car came by---I wouldn't pick that guy up either), a cigarette provided pretty decent company. You stayed awake, you had something to do, there was this ritual involved---it's not much justification for a bad habit, but it's one of the few I can think of.
A cigarette is a hitchhiker's best friend. And the other point that's notable is that a filtered McDonald's Export A was a fine cigarette. If I was going to try to get someone addicted to cigarettes, that might be a good place to start. They (the McDonald's in question) are firmly-packed, smooth, not too harsh, but full-bodied. If I was going to go back and start smoking cigarettes again (I'm not), I would go looking for that one.
So after I smoked the first pack, I bought another one. I didn't go back to the idea of buying rolling papers and loose tobacco. The acquisition of that skill would have to wait for another day.
Sadly, I did smoke for much of my adult life. Fortunately, I never smoked all that much. My smoking habit probably peaked out at about 1/2 a pack a day, and then declined to something in the range of 3 or 4 cigarettes, 6 or 8 at the max. If I had a girlfriend who smoked, I was likely to smoke. Most of them did. If I had a drink in my hand, or another illicit substance nearby, I was likely to combine all three deadly pleasures. Five years ago, at a nadir of existence, when I could have been excused from a Niagara of cigarette indulgence, I unexpectedly smoked my last cigarette. After that, I had a few cigars, but they left me zombie-headed and irritable, and I haven't even had one of those since.
Now if you could fix me up with a Belgian beer like the one I had in Cambridge in May, that, my friends, would get me excited.

“I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama don't take my Kodachrome away”
—Paul Simon “Kodachrome”



“Hey! Are you going to sell those photos to the National Enquirer?”

Thomas Gibson, ex of Darma & Greg, who plays Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner on the TV show Criminal Minds was yelling this question to me from down the alley behind the House of Hayden bar where he stood next to the series star, one of my actor heroes, Joe “Fat Tony" Mantegna.
I was standing in the back doorway of the House of Hayden shooting with my high-powered zoom lens and was surprised that he even noticed me from the distance that stood between us.
I shook my head side to side.
“Are you sure?” he yelled.
Damn. This guy has amazing eyesight, I thought to myself.
I shook my head up and down.
“Because they won’t buy them!” he informed me.
Nobody else seemed to notice me and Gibson just seemed to be having fun with me, so I kept shooting.

Until about 5 minutes later when some little piss-ant AD (assistant director), no doubt showing off for the crew, turned and asked if I was shooting the photos for personal use.
“Yes.” Then I thought, ah, why not be honest. “I’m shooting for the local paper,” I said.
“Well, can you not do it right now?” he asked.
I wasn’t making any noise or interfering with their production in any way. So, genuinely curious I asked, “Why?”
“Why not?” He echoed with his lame schoolyard taunt.
I was sorely tempted to say, “Make me!” and then do a little jig with my hand securely on the door handle ready to slam it shut in his creepy face should he decide to come charging at me across the playground where both our dignities had been suddenly transported.

While I was busy filtering through appropriate childhood era comebacks in my head, he brought out the big guns with, “You should call the production company and go through the chain of commands!”
The equivalent of: Because I said so and I’ll tell on you if you don’t stop it!
“But, I’m already here and you’ll be finished by the time I do that.” I said. Not to mention they were filming in a public place and like I said I wasn’t bothering anyone besides this little “giant.”

Thank God somebody who actually was in charge chose that moment to shout, “Quiet on the set!”
I was beginning to feel pretty silly engaging in this whiney little bitch fest in front of Joe Mantegna. What must he think of me! It wouldn’t matter that I didn’t start this fight or that Mantegna didn’t know me from Adam.
I was guilty by participation.