I too am bummed I missed the old days. I was the only writer on Guam who became the walking incarnation of the mythic chain-smoking, hard-drinking journalist. Fortunately there was another photographer who shared in my habits, so we were our own little press club.

These days, even journalism is touched by the whole "L.A. fitness and beauty" style of living.

I've stopped since moving to Hawaii. But when I was on Guam, I would go to the seediest bars right after work, and finish up my pack of cigarettes. These were small, back-alley bars where the bartenders were missing teeth, the beer is cheap and the karaoke machines were well stocked with Merle Haggard songs. I also often hit the swankier clubs too, whenever I want to ponder how life would be like if I went to law school instead.

I even kept a makeshift minibar in my file cabinets, with Jack, Jim and Johnny all stored away for that one extremely stressful, "the plane has hit the goddamn mountain" day. Those days never came, fortunately.

I've quit smoking, but I can't help but think I would start again if newsrooms allowed smoking indoors.