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"I'm 62 as of 2017, and vividly remember my dear Grandpa going thru his Asthmador ritual on his northeast Nebraska farm. He'd rise before sunup, and I would too just to be with him. They had an old corn-cob-burning iron stove in the front room where he kept his bib overalls and work boots, etc. He's fire up some cobs, then place an much-used old Folger's coffee tin can without it's lid onto the heated stove. Then he'd shovel a bit of Asthmador into the coffee tin, and quickly put the lid on. After a few seconds, he'd removed the lid and bend wayyy down and put his face into the coffee tin....inhaling as deep as he could all the thick, brackish blue-white smoke that roiled up from inside. He'd hold his breath as long as he could, exhale...then do this a few times. Now, Gramps was a guy raised very religiously, and rarely used even a light cuss-word or spoke in dirty fashion. But an amazing transformation soon overcame him once that Asthmador kicked that I'm an adult I'm sure it was the BellaDonna (loco-weed as per Indians) that did it. Anyways, Gramps would soon get this s--t eating grin on his face...and sometimes begin to tell "racy " jokes to me (depending if Grandma was around or not)...and have the best time "corrupting " me with the jokes he surely heard as a young soldier in ww1. They were never very bad. In fact...I remember one thing in particular he told me when I was in high school, as we drove around his corn field. Pretty tame by today's standards, and I still get the grins when I hear and picture it all in my mind once again. OK...if you're not into these type of things.....quit reading NOW. So, Gramps is on his Asthmador "high "...and as we're driving along...just the two of us....he has his normal Asthmador-grin going on and looks at me as says "Kid.....have you got a girlfriend yet? " And I look back and say No, not really, Gramps....not yet anyway. " And he blurts out "well....when you finally DO....I'll bet she'll have a SORE P---Y for awhile ".....and he just ROARED with laughter. It was So out of character for him to say anything like that, and I turned beet red I suppose, but loved it.....and still cherish the memory. Just Gramps and me.....driving around the farm on an early, foggy, humid Nebraska August morning. THAT.....was what Asthmador did for Grandpa. Obviously, it allowed him to forget the misery of the emphysema that was close to killing him within a couple of years, and allowed him to breathe well enough to blurt out a few racy jokes to his adoring, loving Grandkid. Apologies to anybody that was offended. Love you, Gramps. joel in az. "