For example, surveys by the American Council on Science and Health and others have revealed how cigarette manufacturers for decades used the clout of their advertising dollars to pressure magazine editors to steer clear of articles about the dangers of smoking.

Now, formerly secret industry documents offer a particularly vivid example of Big Tobacco’s direct manipulation of the truth — “airbrushing” information on the devastating health effects of cigarette smoking.

Philip Morris convinced one of the nation’s largest health insurers, Cigna, to “edit” the health content of its corporate newsletter so it would not be “offensive” to Philip Morris employees who received it. In other words, employees of the tobacco giant’s family of corporations, including Kraft Foods and Miller Brewing, received “cleaned up” health copy, in which references to cigarette smoking’s role in heart disease, cancer and pregnancy complications was removed. Incredibly, this editing process was in effect as recently as 1999.

The tobacco spokeswoman’s explanation for the changes is both lame and convoluted. Philip Morris’ Mary Carnovale basically argued that:

The health effects of smoking are well known, so the folks did not need this information; and
The editing was done to spare hurt feelings on the part of Philip Morris employees.

Referring to the effect of statements about smoking causing disease, Carnovale intoned, “Many who have worked here many, many years took those references very personally.”

Freely translated, it seems that Philip Morris felt obligated to protect its employees from the truth. Perhaps it did so out of concern that employees who regularly read that cigarette smoking causes premature death might not be enthusiastic about being part of that product’s family.

One can’t help wondering how many workers Philip Morris “protected” over the years by not telling them about the effects of smoking.

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He’s not the type of man who needs to get away by himself. No fishing camp for him. No hunting lodge. No weekend with The Guys. Tennis after work perhaps, but home for a late dinner. Will travel for business if he must, but as much as he hates hotel rooms far far away, what he hates more is coming home to an empty house.

While I decide if I should refer to my spouse from now on as MWH*, let me explore the phenomenon that he maintains is the absolute truth. *My Wonderful Husband

MWH THEORY OF EMPTY HOUSES AS IT RELATES TO HIM AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN HE IS LEFT ALONE

It’s like living in the middle of a Yeats’ poem, he says. “Things fall apart, the center cannot hold.” It doesn’t seem to matter if it’s an afternoon shopping extravaganza with friends or a longer journey I might make to a convention or a workshop.

If I’m gone, A Situation Arises. A Situation that must be dealt with by using lots of rags, ladders, a wet/dri vacuum, and phone calls to service people who of course won’t come on a weekend. Bills follow.

All of the following happened in New England before our move south.

The first time seemed like an isolated occurrence, not the start of a pattern. I came back from an afternoon of bargain hunting soon after we began sharing a home. When I drove in the basement/garage it registered somewhere in my brain that a heavy mist seemed to be rising from the cement floor. Odd, but I didn’t think much about it. A foggy basement seemed a rather nice and moody place. MWH ran down the stairs with The Look on his face.

“Hi!” I said. “How was your day?”

Picture hysterical husband with The Look starting to sputter. “Didn’t you notice the cellar?”

“What about it?”

“Steam? From the floor? You didn’t notice?”

“I guess. Huh. No pipes in the floor; I wonder what caused that?”

“Oh, I can tell you. Yep, I can tell you all right.”

Our elderly washing machine busted its hose, spewing water all over the place before it got noticed. Lots of mopping and draining followed. I gathered that my timing was perfect in that it had taken hours to clean up. He finished just as I arrived. Frankly, I like when that happens.

Since that time, while I was out and MWH was home, the following things occurred:

A spring thaw and rain on the ice jammed roof caused a melt down that showed itself by first trickles of water coming in around the fireplace/wood stove, then streams. He called a friend who came over with a ladder and MWH got on the roof with an ice pick. It was dark, raining, turning very cold and MWH is afraid of heights. Both Richard and MWH spent hours stuffing towels around the crevices inside, taking down heavy pictures and mirrors that might give way in the soaking wallboard, plus chipping away at the ice outside. I drove back into town a few hours later. This time MWH said, “You planned it. You must have known about the ice jam and gone out of town so you wouldn’t have to deal with it.” Suspicion squatted on his face.

THEN

An unexpected snow storm dumped so much wet stuff in our part of the state that trees buckled. The power went out. Which meant the heat was out. And a tree fell on the roof taking cable wires with it. None of this would have happened if I’d not gone to Boston for the weekend.

THEN

Appliances began committing suicide. The refrigerator died while I was at a conference. The dishwasher overflowed, hemorrhaging soapy water all over the kitchen. (Now that time, I think MWH might have used dishwashing liquid instead of dishwasher liquid, but he’d never admit it.) The microwave blew a fuse mid-lasagna one time. But even little things like the latter started to seem like a plot or certain proof that if I went away he should definitely come with me or find somewhere else to be for the duration.

If I was heading off somewhere, he would predict some kind of household revenge.

I just got back from a week away. First one since the move. We talked by phone every night and I listened carefully for disaster. Work related things happened that weren’t great. He’d run out of the food possibilities that I’d left and was sick of foraging.

But fire ants remained under control. Squirrels had not eaten their way into our attic. No mention of a plague of locusts. Hmn. I began to worry that my homecoming would not mean he could get respite from the Forces of Evil. I could be out of a job.

He met me at the Delta gate with a huge smile of general relief. What it all boils down to is the very lovely point he makes when ever I’m off some where. It’s the lyric of an old Bill Withers song you might recognize: “Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone (and this house just ain’t no home, anytime you go away.”

Which makes me ask myself, Why would I ever want to go away?

Because coming home is the best part.

Absolutely, a great item to have in your house is a first aid kit, just like Tylenol, which we all stock as a standby item in the medicine chest, in case we get a headache. You will need to have one in your home in case you have a requirement for it, however, this does not mean that you will use the first aid kit on a daily basis. So it is one of those things that is good to have on hand in the event you need it, but you hope you never will.

2. If You Have Children, You Need One.

If you are a parent, then you probably already realize how much you need a first aid kit at home. No matter what you do, or how careful you are, your kids are always going to wind up with various scrapes, bumps, and bruises. Dependent on how bad it is, you will want to clean it up, or apply a bandage. Whenever the grandkids pay a visit, or when you have children around, you need to have a first aid kit.

You need to look at the items in the first aid kit, if you don’t want to buy a pre-packed first aid kit, as it is always nice to own a first aid kit.