The Purpose Of Vices

If you're a person reasonably compliant with social norms, you're going to have a romantic life, job, or both. For that vast majority of humankind, there is a very specific purpose to vices. They relieve the stress and anxiety encountered, albeit to varying degree, by every relationship and every job. What of those of us, like myself, who have neither a job nor a romantic relationship and have learned, through hard-won experience, that this will always, or, at any rate, ought to always be the case? Recent reflection brings me to the conclusion that vices serve a purpose that is entirely different. You see, I have no relationship to stress about and no job by which to be stressed. So my vices, here, by the way, meaning fun of which some disapprove, are not about destressing. It is rather the distraction or accomplishing of the passing of time in an enjoyable manner that is their purpose. Rather that drink or drugs, those ever-popular forms of self-destruction, my vices are things like cigars, the preparation of food generally considered bad for you, and writing for enjoyment (plenty would consider this a vice as compared to something more definitively productive). Having this occur to me got me thinking about vices and the role they have played and will continue to play in my life as it goes forward with the current status quo continuing to be the case.

Cigars are probably the most important of my vices. The local cigar shop is really a clubhouse, in its way. The place is a substitute for many of the functions of a workplace environment for me. There are a variety of gentlemen, and a smattering of ladies, who have known me very well for a very long time. They are counsel during difficulties, cheerleaders during triumph, and snarky critics when I get out of line. More than that though, the shop is a reason to get up in the morning and something to which to look forward every day. So many of the hours I have had and many of the however many I've left are spent there. If I have a joke, it is told there, if I have a grievance, it is aired there, and if I need help with something, it is there that I seek it. One could argue that I am setting myself up for mouth and/or throat cancer with this particular vice, but I have three specific response to this. 1. So what? It's a hole. They can get the tumor out. Maybe it'll disfigure me, but I ain't pretty. 2. Maybe it'll end up killing me, but you must keep in mind that I am not particularly attached to living. The road ahead is going to be a lonely one without a great deal of meaning to it and I would rather go through a road that will seem long to me, however long or short it actually is, having fun than not. 3. I've seen far too many old men in the shop who are cancer free to think of cancer's occurrence as any kind of inevitable outcome of my life.

I've written about writing and cooking enough that I have no desire to repeat myself on these topics here. Many people have responsibilities throughout their adult lives that mean they can't just have fun all the time. Instead, they build more meaningful things in their lives by postponing what they want to do for what they ought to do. Several times in my life, I was either doing precisely that or preparing to do precisely that. After all, a career can be rewarding, romance can be the spice of life, and children grow up to be a wonderful part of one's golden years if you raise them right. Absent all of that, what's the point? Well, the simple fact of the matter is that my own life is, in a very real sense, pointless. That isn't necessarily completely damning or anything. I still intend to thoroughly enjoy however many remaining days I have yet. The frivolity of the ways I intend to spend my time may seem empty and callow to most people, but that's only a problem if there is greater potential. Absent greater potential, the frivolous and callow become all there is for oneself to consider. As I write this, I can hear the objections rising in many a reader. What a boi exploring other options or believing in myself? To that, I can only say that I did my level best to leave no stone unturned and I believed in myself and my endeavors to a degree that probably was not entirely sane. A price was paid for it, both psychological and monetary, with each attempt. Those who quit never win, those who win never quit, but those who never win and never quit are idiots. I am done being an idiot. All I want is to enjoy my vices with my remaining time.

-Frank