Secondary smoke is annoying, nearly as annoying as the moldy, dried-sweat funk of the jogger in front of you at the Whole Foods checkout who can’t find the time to shower and change out of those camel-toed suction pants before popping in to pick up some carrot juice. Yes, smokers have their black teeth, raspy voices, and insistence on leaving their car windows cracked even in the dead of winter (don’t want the car filling up with … smoke), but at least you know that their idiotic, self-destructive behavior will result in a younger, if not necessarily prettier corpse – and just a little more breathing room for everyone else. Fitness freaks on the other hand, are clearly and disturbingly in it for the long haul. The closest they’re going to get to a dirt nap is getting t-boned by a drunk smoker in a whiskey-dented Suburban on their morning jog. Otherwise, they’re around forever, boring you to death with insufferable workout monologues and rambling self-absorbed soliloquies on low-carb diets and nutritional supplements. They don’t care how much of your precious time they suck into their conversational vortex because they plan on having plenty of time to burn. Crossing the event horizon of one of these black holes of boredom is the type of tolerance test that puts the whole issue of secondary smoke in stark perspective. Is it possible to die of secondary suck? Does anyone want to participate in the experiment? While nicotine whores certainly have no lock on wit or wisdom, their addiction at least necessitates an occasional merciful pause; a chance to break and run. No such luck with fitness freaks. Maybe an ordinance relegating them to outdoor decks and patios is in order: quiet, healthy places where they can fully indulge in their narcissism without imposing it on polite but uninterested suckers – without any deleterious effect on Austin’s vibrant live music scene. Talk about a win-win situation, eh? Maybe we can get that on the ballot by May 7? Until then, if you’re the type who likes to take the bull by the horns and proactively increase your chances for a slow, painful death, you’ll certainly want to head over to the Hole in the Wall this Friday for their triple band bill featuring Brooks Brannon, The Fire Marshals of Bethlehem, and the Fighting Brothers McCarthy. The Hole has been curing for better than thirty years in a staggering variety of secondary smokes, and before the anti-smoking ordinance gets voted in you’ll surely want to add yours to the mix. Not to mention the players in all of these bands are some of the finest in Austin: Brooks himself, John Croslin (ex-Reivers), Kevin Carney (ex-Wannabes), Hunter Darby (ex-everybody), and Kevin and Steve McCarthy, who will be scaling the fourth wall of their Dung Beatles/Diamond Smugglers act to showcase their exceptional songwriting talent. Yes, this show will be smoking.
