The Day After

I attempted to restore my routine to the "norm." Yet, I had great difficulty forgetting the ordeal of yesterday. Anyway, I departed for town this morning even later than usual. Once there, I procured a cup of coffee at the fast food joint. After quickly completing my so-called "breakfast" (i.e., granola), I walked to Longs® to have my prescription filled for the beta blocker pills. Then, I purchased a $10 gift card at Subway®.

Typical Prescribed Hottie

My workout at the gym was somewhat lackluster. I completed a modified senior citizen version of my weight workout. Cardio was also light. Unfortunately, I had to cut the cardio session short because I noticed that the bruising from the two failed intravenous insertions was spreading. Oh well.

I returned Slob Manor (read: rental housing) about an hour earlier than usual. My greatest fear was being stuck in town and experiencing a repeat of the prolonged heart palpitations of yesterday. Or, Molech forbid, a real heart attack. With that said, I made sure to dose myself with the beta blocker medication prior to leaving the gym. Once back at the dump, I gave Alan the gift card as a token of my appreciation.

I am a little worried that I'll end up taking the medication for the rest of my life. Currently, my dosage is low. In normal applications, the dosage is up to three pills per day. In my case, the dosage is half of one pill per day.

The only people who noticed the bandages on my arm were fellow senior citizens Chip and Alex at the gym. I had interesting conversations with both of them about the ordeal. Of course, they know exactly what's what because they have had similar experiences. Yeah, I am truly a member of the senior citizen club.

At this time, I am remaining detached about the medical expenses that I incurred yesterday. If by some chance I am denied medical coverage by the State's Medicaid program, I may be liable for $5,000 or more. Becoming stressed over the situation now would probably provoke another prolonged episode of atrial fibrillation. We don't need that now, do we?

So, here I am, one day into my real initiation to senior citizenry. I have chalked up one chronic illness. I may have also received my first lifetime prescription drug. Oh, how can anyone not be depressed?

Ol' Lavahead Mini-Update®
As it turns out, the nightly glass of wine may be implicated in the puzzling heart palpitation mystery. The alcohol content causes vasodilation, increased heart rate, electrolyte loss, and dehydration. Although I only consume one small glass of wine every evening, my geriatric heart (after years of alcohol abuse) may be particularly sensitive to the alcohol. Last night, I did not consume any wine. There were no heart palpitations all day, as far as I could detect. Sadly, coffee could also be secondarily suspect.

Emergency Room

Usual Hawai'i Kai visit. Usual routine. Lunch with moms. Then, the usual workout at the gym. I felt fine afterward. Another hot afternoon made for a tortuous walk back to the Koko Marina parking structure. I thought of stopping off at the supermarket on the way back to Slob Manor (read: rental housing). Then, I thought better of the idea. Good thing.

Once back at Slob Manor, I unpacked my gym bag. Then, I put the fresh fruit that moms had given me into the fridge. Within seconds, my heart began fluttering. The palpitations would not cease. I walked back to my squalid room, then back into the common area. Alan had just walked in the door. Yes, Alan is fine. He arrived late Thursday afternoon. "I think I'm having a heart attack," I told him. Alan sat me down and attempted to track my pulse. It was all over the place. Then, he called for an ambulance.

I have no health insurance, I told him. He said that I would owe nothing if I did not accept the ride to the hospital. And, the paramedics would have the necessary medical equipment to determine the seriousness of the problem. I had thought of transporting myself to the hospital or clinic, but what if I experienced a severe cardiac event along the way? The ambulance was a safer bet.

The heart palpitations were still going strong when the ambulance arrived. I had no chest pains, no chills, no cold sweat. I wasn't dizzy. I could easily walk about. The EMTs (emergency medical technicians) strapped me onto a gurney and eased me into the back of the vehicle. They quickly hooked up a portable EKG (electrocardiogram) device to me. The EMTs were professional and friendly. They asked me a battery of questions, all the while monitoring my heart problem. The palpitations were registering a heart rate of about 150 beats per minute for a duration of over 20 minutes straight.

Oddly, after about ten minutes in the ambulance, the palpitations stopped. My heartbeats returned to normal. The EMTs advised me to ride to the emergency room. I confessed that I had no insurance. No problem, there would be a social worker available to sign me up for the State's Medicaid program.

The ride to the hospital was pleasant. The EMTs spent the time joking with me as well as discussing what would happen in the emergency room. The only downside was when one of the guys failed, not once, but twice to put an intravenous (IV) needle into my arm. The pain was horric.

Once at Queen's Hospital, everything went smoothly. The nurses, doctors, and support staff were all friendly and helpful. Quite a contrast to the solemn days of pops' passing in one of the critical care wards there. I was again hooked up to a variety of diagnostic devices. The attending nurse wanted to attempt another IV insertion. I refused, pointing to the two now swollen and bruised lumps on my arm from the two previous attempts.

The social worker, a young hottie, came by about 30 minutes later. She queried all of the information necessary to apply for health insurance. I will simply have to submit a copy of any picture identification and my birth certificate. I should have insurance coverage in 30 days after that.

Long story short, I spent nearly five hours in a private ward. There were two blood samples drawn four hour apart. The doctor assured me that I did not suffer from a heart attack. So, no heart damage. All "vitals" were normal. Strange thing. However, I was not given a clean bill of health. Instead, I was given a prescription for a beta blocker drug. And, I was advised to contact the health clinic in Waikiki for an appointment with my assigned physician. Unfortunately, I have heart problems. I will need a referal to a cardiologist. The palpitations (i.e., atrial fibrillations) will only get worse with age, I was told.

I was released from the emergency room at 9pm. I called my bro and asked him to give me a ride back to Slob Manor. He arrived about 20 minutes later. I was able to chat with my bro along the way. I advised him to be aware of any heart symptoms. I also learned that he suffers from high cholesterol, too. And, he hasn't had a physical check-up in years. I confided in him that I doubted that I would live past age 70 years, if even that.

When I arrived back at Slob Manor, both Tom and the "chef" were in the common area. I described the ordeal to them. Then, I drove my Nissan® Frontier truck to the fast food joint in Aina Haina. I don't know if anyone noticed that I was still wearing my hospital ID bracelet and both my arms were covered with assorted bandages. I ordered two greasy "value menu" items and a vanilla milk shake. Delicious! What the heck? Well, I may only have a few years left to live.

Surveillance Mini-Update®
Here I am, describing my near-death experience, but I cannot get a reprieve from the Google® surveillance robot. Is there no decency in the oligopolistic empire? Apparently not. I am an old codger, ready to die. Give me a break already!

Surveillance Bait

There's just no end to the intrusion by the Google® surveillance robot. It's programming keeps changing, but there are distinct patterns. It does not pop up if the interval between postings and updates is less than 24 hours. It waits about two minutes after a post or update, just in case I simply perform a fake update. Laughable, eh?

Typical Baited Hottie

Yet, there are two robots in different locations that are devoted to tracking the ol' lavahead's "blog." So, let's keep the robots busy now, shall we? I will simply append updates to this post to trigger the robots. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

No Time For Holidays Mini-Update®
Yes, that's correct. We have no time for holidays. The routine will remain the same even during holidays. The only exceptions are Saturnalia and New Year's Day if the latter and former fall on Monday or Friday.

Ol' Lavahead Mini-Update®
No real health improvements yet. My workouts at the gym are still below normal. I now estimate that I have experienced an abrupt ten percent reduction in muscle strength within the past month or so. In all likelihood, I may have suffered from a minor heart attack.

Tablet Computer Mini-Update®
The Nexus 7 remains the tablet computer of choice. Why? In one word, Vuze® (the bit-torrent client). Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Surveillance Mini-Update®
Sadly, no change in the behavior of the surveillance robot. I can only conclude that something serious is afoot. The fate of the "blog" is uncertain.

Movie Madness (Reprise)

The selection of decent flicks has diminished rapidly. So, I decided to view a few marginal releases. "Doomsday" wasn't too bad. Actually, hottie Rhona Mitra was the flick's only redemption.

Rhona Mitra in "Doomsday"

I also viewed the original 1978 flick, "I spit On Your Grave." Although the video quality was really poor, hottie Camille Keaton was looking mighty fine. I also viewed the 2010 remake of the flick with gorgeous Sarah Butler in the starring role. Baby is hot!

Sarah Butler in "I Spit On Your Grave"

Seems as though the quality of a flick is determined by the young hotties in the starring roles. What can I say?

Typical Film Buff Hottie

Alas, that's all there is for an old codger to do. Watch "mainstream" flicks with young hotties (or hurdy-gurdy video clips with young hotties) while physically degenerating to decrepitude. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Slob Manor (Read: Rental Housing) Mini-Update®
Over eleven weeks have passed, and Alan has still not returned to the dump. His leg or foot complications must be major (e.g., amputation). Or, he's dead.

Car Wash

I finally brought my Nissan® Frontier truck to the car wash located at the petrol station across the street from the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. For $13 and some change, the truck received a decent wash and wax job. I can't complain. There were still traces of bird dung, but I don't care. The dung is like hardened epoxy anyway.

Typical Car Wash Hottie

I parked the truck in the shaded structure in the mall. I liberally applied tire sheen, then walked to the coffee shop to procure an expensive cup of brew. Later, I returned to wipe off the tire sheen residue. Once done, I rode the bus to town and immediately headed for the gym.

I am still straining immensely to complete my workout. No, I have not returned to my usual level of rigor. I am seriously contempting a complete modification of my weight workout to that of "maintenance" only. My cardio workout has been restored, but there are some oddities. The most notable is that I no longer sweat as much. I am sweating about 75 percent less. Heart palpitations are also continuing.

When I returned to the mall, I found an incident report on the windshield of the truck. Apparently, someone had backed into the rear bumper of the truck. The driver was honest enough to call the police and file a report. There was a note requesting that I contact mall security.

Typical Smooth Hottie

I procured a delicious, albeit expensive, smoothie at the usual juice joint. I then spoke to one of the mall security guards. I told him that the damage on the rear bumper was already there. The bumper may have been pushed in a little more, but any new damage was irrelevant. If I was dishonest, I could have ended up with a new bumper. Oh well.

There's not much to report. The routine remains the same, with the exception that I have been viewing one "mainstream" flick (courtesy bit-torrent download) every evening. Frankly, I have pretty much exhausted the selection of acceptable flicks. I don't want to waste valuable time on mediocre crap.

Composing the "blog" has become a chore, what with the damned surveillance robot popping up with each new posting or revision. Surveillance always has a purpose. If and when I deem imminent danger, I am outta here.

Ol' Lavahead Mini-Update®
I have been experiencing general malaise. Almost my entire body is in pain (i.e., legs, lower back, chest, arms) every day. There is just no explanation. Physical degradation commenced about one month ago. Incidentally, the drunkard Tom has been consuming my medicinal wine. The entire $20 box (equivalent to about seven 750ml bottles) has been depleted in less than two weeks.

Senior Citizens

Have you been observing senior citizens as I suggested? Or, have you been observing young hotties? Be honest now. Yeah, I thought so. Why would anyone want to observe decrepit senior citizens?

Typical Angry Senior Citizen

Of course, I alone continue my observations of myriad senior citizens. I can't avoid seeing them. They are everywhere. And, many of them are angry. Why? Well, who really wants to be a senior citizen?

Typical Senior Citizen Problem Resolution

I am angry, too. I am commencing the long downhill slide to decrepitude. I am beginning to literally fall apart. I have run out of time. I no longer need to worry about trivial matters like young hotties or hurdy-gurdy video clips.

Typical Gorgeous Hottie

Well, maybe not. There are just too many young hotties around. Like senior citizens, they are everywhere. Who would you rather espy ... a gorgeous young hottie or an old codger? I rest my case.

Early Exit

Aside from my final demise, I have been overly concerned about my upcoming decrepitude. I'm afraid that I cannot fathom the idea of becoming a decrepit senior citizen. The physical degradation would be too much me. I would be completely demoralized.

Typical Perfect Young Hottie

Imagine yourself as a decrepit senior citizen ... wrinkled, hunched over, barely able to walk, failing vision, lost hearing. Add in illness and dementia, and that's the model senior citizen. The "Golden Years" ... what a crock of shit! Would you be able to tolerate such a life-style?

For me, that's just a few short years away. I'll be honest. I can't go out like that. It's best that I make my exit before decrepitude. Perhaps a heart attack within the next few years will do the trick. Anything is better than watching myself literally fall apart.

Ol' Lavahead Mini-Update®
My workouts at the gym have stabilized at a lower level of exertion. I have attempted to return to the previous level, but my body is not cooperating. Sadly, I will have to make the downward adjustment. I am now experiencing pain in every part of my physique and some stiffness as well. As far as the possible heart problems, I do not know. I have not experienced any of the previously mentioned cardiac symptoms, at least not in severe intensity.

Old Codgers "R" Us

The original intention of this post was another redundant diatribe about the ills of being an old codger. I have already discussed the matter ad nauseum. I have already provided descriptions and chronology of the aging process. Heck, I observe senior citizens everywhere ... the bus, the various fast food joints, the gym, the various dens of consumerism (read: shopping malls), even homeless senior citizens. Most of them are decrepit. No surprise, eh?

Typical Junior Citizen Hottie

Anyone can witness the effects of old age by just looking around. Senior citizens are everywhere. Sadly, most people are in denial ... denial of death, that is. They are unable to visualize themselves as decrepit senior citizens. Tragic, isn't it?

Typical Active Hottie

The aging process for the ol' lavahead has already commenced. I don't need to visualize myself as an old codger. I already am one. Physical degeneration is already happening. I am attempting to remain active. However, my time is limited.

The Vienna Sausage is the first casualty, as I have mentioned many times previously. As an old codger, I don't need to use the Vienna Sausage except to excrete liquid waste matter. Babes aren't interested in old codgers unless the old fool has lots of money and assets.

Natasha Vega

Thus, I have already mummified the hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL) except for one priceless Natasha Vega video clip. What a hottie! In time, the latter video clip will be expunged.

So, what's ahead for the ol' lavahead? Well, aside from death, he has a few years of exponential decline. Nothing to look forward to, obviously. Well, I am an old codger.

Surveillance Hotties

That sneaky surveillance robot is still up to no good. So, let's feature a couple of surveillance hotties now, shall we?

Typical Surveillance Hottie

And, our next surveillance hottie is looking mighty fine. How would you like that babe to scrutinize your every move?

Another Typical Surveillance Hottie

Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa! Surveillance just couldn't get any better. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Slob Manor (Read: Rental Housing) Mini-Update®
Alan is supposedly due back at the dump any day now. So, he's not dead. He apparently suffered from some kind of foot problem. No other details forthcoming.

Movie Madness

I have been viewing a lot of flicks lately, courtesy bit-torrent downloading. Well, not as many as my homeless buddy. There isn't much for me to do anymore insofar as extracurricular activities are concerned. And, recent health issues have left me in a terrible state of melancholia. So, I have settled for more time with the poor man's home theater system. Anyway, a good flick in the evening supplements my mandatory glass of wine.

So far, there have been only two flicks which I found to be noteworthy. First, let me mention that I prefer the Science Fiction and Action & Adventure (read: "shoot 'em ups") genres.

Scene from "Lockout"

So, my two favorite flicks are "Lockout" and "Oblivion." Excellent choices, eh? I knew that you would agree. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Scene from "Oblivion"

With the Vienna Sausage on the decline, there's little need to acquire any hurdy-gurdy video clips. So, I am concentrating more on the "mainstream" fodder.

Typical Cinematic Hotties

In a sense, I am ultimately preparing for the geriatric life-style (i.e., sedentary), that is, if I live that long. Yeah, lots of sitting around and doing nothing.

Speak! Mini-Update®
Mista Bumpy pointed out in the comments that prostate enlargement could be another factor. That is true. In fact, nearly all guys have prostate problems at age 60 years and up.

Ol' Lavahead Mini-Update®
On Tuesday night, I may have experienced the most deadly symptom of heart problems to date. As I was standing and talking to Tom, the drunkard, in the Slob Manor (read: rental housing) common area, I felt a gradual dizziness coming upon me. My vision had a decreased contrast. I had to sit down momentarily. Otherwise, I would most likely have collapsed onto the floor.

Slob Manor Mini-Update®
The damned bedbugs are back in my squalid room. After 20 bites, I took the usual course of action. Yet, no bedbugs could be found. Where could the pests hide? There's nothing left in my squalid room.

Workout Revisions

My workout at the gym today was completed without any incident. No modifications necessary. However, I followed a few new senior citizen precautions in the weight room:

• Never bend down to adjust weights, etc. Squat instead, so that the head never dips below the torso.
• Allow ample rest time between sets, just enough to prevent hyperventilation.
• Never stand up abruptly between sets.
• Take any additional rest time, if necessary.

And, during my cardio workout, I make sure to check my heart rate every few minutes. At my age, my target heart rate should not exceed 129 beats per minute. Yeah, that's really low. Currently, I operate within 127 and 142 beats per minute.

Typical Fit Hottie

I have also initiated the new rule concerning coffee: only one small cup in the morning per day. I have also invoked the mandatory daily consumption of one standard glass of wine in the evening.

Diet considerations have forced me to permanently mummify the Fast Food Sunday event. In addition, I have placed a limit on greasy "value menu" items to two per week. Although much more costly, I will be choosing healthier food items no matter where I dine.

Ol' Lavahead Mini-Update®
The premature dysfunction of the Vienna Sausage may also be an indicator of heart and blood circulation problems. I don't dare to "test" the Vienna Sausage. No explanation necessary. Well, at least I won't have to maintain the hurdy-gurdy video library (HGVL) anymore. Sheesh!

Health Issues at the Forefront

I was unable to complete more than half of my usual weight workout at the gym today. During the unintended final set, I felt completely winded. When I stood up, I felt dizzy and almost lost consciousness. I approached the cardio portion of the workout with caution. I was able to complete it without incident.

Typical Healthy Hottie

I have been observing a rapid decline in my weight workouts for the past three weeks. I have experienced increasing difficulty, but I was always able to finish. Now, I am at a loss. There are obvious health issues at play. And, I am no longer certain that I can survive into my seventies.

The probability that I have suffered one or more minor cardiac events (i.e., heart attacks) is relatively high. I am probably just days away from the "big one." Yet, I am not seeking any medical attention. Heck, I currently have no health insurance.

I will most likely have to seek out the Medicaid option, since I already qualify for coverage. There appears to be very little time left for me to ruminate on the "asset recovery" provision. In the meantime, I will have to consider a few revisions to the "master plan." I must:

• officially retire at age 62 years, if I live that long. I will be able to collect a modest monthly supplemental income.
• rapidly seek out ways to hide a substantial amount of my liquid assets. This will suffice as a " rainy day" fund.
• consider changes to my life-style with the realization that I may have less than 20 years of time remaining.

Life-style changes ... where to begin? What to do ... what to do ...

Ol ' Lavahead Mini-Update®
Effective immediately, I will be consuming a glass of wine daily in the evenings as part of my lifestyle changes. The wine is for medicinal purposes only. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Sick and Tired

Frankly, I am really getting sick and tired of the annoying Google® surveillance robot. So, I may mummify the "blog," or I may take a long hiatus.

Typical Extraordinary Hottie

Or, I could risk "extraordinary rendition" by posting fake "terrorist" mumbo-jumbo. Heck, I may just fabricate nonsensical fodder just to post pictures of young hotties. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Ol' Lavahead Mini-Update®
An attempt at mummifying my daily coffee consumption produced no promising results. All of the health issues (refer to the "blog" posting of May 2nd) were unaffected. In addition, I noticed increased grogginess and much more sensitivity to pain without my caffeine "fix." However, moderation will be required from this point forward. No more than one small cup of coffee will be allowed per day.

Requiem

Well, over nine weeks have passed and there has been no word about Alan of Slob Manor (read: rental housing) fame. He departed for Arizona during the first week of the month of March. Destination? His "McMansion," of course.

Typical "McMansion" Hottie

I am not suspecting foul play ... yet. However, as each day passes, I am more convinced that Alan is either totally incapacitated or dead. At his age, he would be a likely candidate for either a stroke or a heart attack. Of course, Alan would disagree. He has mentioned that longevity runs in his family, although both his parents, both cigarette smokers, passed on well before their time. Alan has no siblings either.

Typical Poolside Hottie

Alan believed that he was in the best of health. Thus, his diet was an abomination. Junk food, lots of red meat, desserts of all kinds, and carbonated beverages. Very little fruit or vegetables. His personal physician advised him to lose 20 pounds, so Alan embarked on a reduced calorie diet. The quality of food did not increase. His only exercise was an occasional jaunt to the nearby shopping center (wearing his dress clothes and dress shoes).

The "McMansion" was Alan's dream home. Heck, it even has a huge swimming pool. After years of wage slavery, he decided that he had nothing to show for himself. So, he bought the huge domicile in Arizona. Strangely, he has a chick named Layla, about 30 years his junior, listed as a one-percent owner. She also acts in the capacity of resident manager, of which she done a poor job of finding tenants. Hence, Alan has seen a negative cash flow since he acquired the property.

Layla is allegedly attending a local college. She also allegedly is or was some other guy's "squeeze." However, Alan's generosity in providing ownership of the property and a rent-free residence is suspect. I would not be surprised if Alan also has her listed as the sole beneficiary of his life insurance and pension. In other words, Alan is Layla's "sugar daddy," although he's apparently not getting any "play."

Alan only purchased the property about a handful of years ago. He's got a 30-year mortgage, so he would be in his nineties when the place is finally paid off. His pension is currently locked into primarily equities. At this moment, he should have just enough to pay of the place if he cashes out. Thus, if Alan is either totally incapacited or dead, I would assume that Layla would have power-of-attorney or sole beneficiary status, respectively.

What more can be said? I'm not going to deliver a premature eulogy. No one at Slob Manor really "gives a shit" about anyone else, myself included. We live at the base (read: animal) level. If indeed Alan did meet his demise, then nobody will care. His possessions will be disposed of, if no one claims them. Then, another "nutjob" tenant will move in. Same ol' shit.

Vendetta

I happened to view the flick, "V for Vendetta," courtesy a bit-torrent download. Very good flick, by the way. And, most enjoyable when viewed on the poor man's home theater. I was, of course, reminded of the idiotic Google® surveillance robot that pops up every time I post an entry to the "blog."

Scene from "V for Vendetta"

What is the purpose of the surveillance? There has been no answer forthcoming. What are we to make of the nonsense? Who is "behind the curtain"?

Typical Surreptitious Hottie

Perhaps the sole purpose of the surveillance is to discover if and when the hottie pictures "cross the line." What else could make sense of the stupidity? There are no coded words to trigger "terrorist" cells into action. There are no "terrorist" discussions. All there is, quite simply, the ramblings of an old codger in the making.

Slob Manor (Read: Rental Housing) Mini-Update®
My squalid room has retained the disgusting barbeque odor even though I attempted to air it out. All I got in return was an invasion of mosquitoes. I also had to waste precious time with the laundry chores. Yes, everything had to be washed. Of course, the inconvenience resulted in more clothes being donated to charity. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa!

Ol' Lavahead Mini-Update®
Even with major health issues at the forefront, I have decided to relax the moratorium on coffee and the greasy "value menu" items at the usual fast food joints. The key is moderation. I have only a few years of life remaining. I cannot be imprisoned by unreasonable constraints.

Health Issues Arising

For the last week, I have been experiencing a few unusual symptoms: base heart rate at 70 to 80 beats per minutes, poor sleep, night sweats, fatigue, muscle soreness, frequent urination, and mental fogginess. I have been unable to complete my 50-minute cardio workouts at the gym for two weeks, and I have been sweating profusely throughout the ordeal. One additional symptom, albeit strange, has been noticeable for a while. At times, I can smell an odd odor similar to burning electrical insulation.

Typical Healthy Hottie

Clearly, there is some kind of health issue at play. I know that I have blood circulation problems and heart palpitations, as well as high cholesterol. My desire is to avoid medication. And, I currently have no health insurance. What will I do?

For now, I plan to invoke an emergency revision to my diet. I will be curbing my intake of "value menu" fast food items, if not completely eliminating them. I will consider the elimination of coffee. And, I will most likely reinstate the consumption of seven ounces of cheap boxed wine every evening. Alas, old age is no fun.

Slob Manor (Read: Rental Housing) Mini-Update®
An unidentified asswipe (most likely at the Chinaman house next door) was cooking on a barbeque at 3am in the morning. All of the smoke filled my squalid room, the stench of which is continuing to linger. All of my clothes, towel, and bedding were saturated with the disgusting odor of smoke.