Friday, November 15, 2013

Thanks for Smoking?

Hello kiddies, this is your pilot speaking. We've achieved our cruising altitude, so feel free to remove your seat belts, use your trays, and roam about the cabin freely. Oh, and thank you for not smoking. Oh hell, who am I kidding? Smoke em if you got em. And without further ado, today's special is changes in smoking.

So last night my wife asked me how long did I smoke cigarettes for. The answer she got was surprising none the less. What she thought was just one or two years, was actually much longer than that. It's a habit that followed me all the way back to middle school. And that's probably why it was the most shocking. The fact that I was so young when I started sneaking my first few heaters. 

Today it's much harder to get a smoke. Unless you're bumming off someone, or sneaking them away from a family member, you have to get a store clerk to get them for you. Thus, most underage smokers have to find a work around if their folks won't buy for them. But people forget, that this wasn't the case many moons ago. Years ago it was easy to get your hands on some death sticks. You could walk into a store or gas station and just say, "My old man wants a pack of Luckies." And off you went to enjoy a carcinogenic apparatus. To make matters worse, you didn't even have to go that far. There was many a building with a cigarette vending machine by the door. 

This brings me to where I got a hold my first lung fillers. Right down the street from where I lived at the time, was the county courthouse. To add insult to injury, I had a friend whose mom worked there. So people were used to seeing us in, out, and all around there anyways. Well just inside the main entrance was a slew of vending machines. Food, drinks, and of course cigarettes. It was an older machine at that, so for 75 cents, you had clouded lungs in minutes. But of course, the courthouse isn't always open, and you wanted to keep your options just in case it was, but the machine was out of your brand. So for a while, gas stations where that back up. But then came the day when all of that ended. A new smoke shop went up, with a drive up window. If an adult was in the store you needed to back away and act like you were being turned away, and if someone was at the drive up, just be really quite. Simple rules. Follow them, and you could walk out with a carton of death. But of course most of us didn't have that money often. So I did was every other kid would do. I ran sacked the house looking for loose change. Couches, chairs, counters, you name it. Because for just 99 cents, I was going to be enjoying my smoke. 

As if that wasn't enough, when I did start high school, they had finally banned smoking on all parts of campus to include the shop. So what did we do? We held our protest smoke directly across the street from the front of the school every morning before class, and every day at lunch. Of course, we always felt accomplished on the occasions a teacher would come out and smoke with us. We weren't exactly smart enough to realize, they didn't care if we smoked or not. That would happen a couple years later when we'd smoke in the parking lot. Ah yes, life was good.

Then came my years when I went to military school. I always got a laugh out of the idiots that would get in trouble for smoking. They had no idea how to hide it. You couldn't mask the smell in your room, and hanging out the back window would get you caught eventually. But they never learned. I kept my burners in my soap dish. Nobody ever noticed I had two there instead of one. And being that we had community showers, with a forever open window, that also housed where we did our laundry, and the toilets, it made sense to me. People were always coming and going, the place already smelt like crap, so who would notice? So every morning, and every evening I'd take a shower, leaning just out of the water and enjoying a smoke. Nobody ever caught on, and I never got caught. 

I stopped smoking, or more like changed my smoking while still in the USMC. I had found new ways of dealing with stress like SCUBA diving. It wasn't until then that I truly noticed how bad smoking really sticks out. For a non-smoker is gross. For a former smoker, it's heinous. You can smell and taste a cigarette from a mile away. Yes, you can actually taste it. And if you had smoked enough, and were familiar with certain brands, you can actually tell what someone is smoking based on that smell and/or taste. It's that bad. 

Fortunately for me, my wife is known to occasionally smoke as well so I don't have to worry about getting bitched at for my current smoking habits. So even to this day, I'm still known and seen with a cigar. And for those of you that truly know me, or have followed my blog for any length of time, know that I love my cigars. Plus, I occasionally pull out my hookah. Normally this is during the colder times of the year when I don't want to step outside for my stogie. Rarely am I seen with a cigarette. One day, I'll probably try a good old fashioned pipe. But for me I found cigars really are the best match. 

Do I recommend smoking? No. It really is a bad habit. It's truly not for everyone.  And I'm sure it's contributed to my recent development of asthma. But unlike most smokers who stick with it because of the addiction to tobacco, I'm one of the few that can say I smoke because I truly enjoy it. And I limit myself. For instance I haven't had a smoke in well over a month, and it's not a big deal. I know at some point in the near future I'll put my trigger finger to use on a nice fat cigar. It's probably best labeled as a hobby today. 

My advice is if you're going to do it, just be responsible. Be considerate of others, especially the non-smokers. And if you aren't a smoker I'll say this..... thanks for not smoking. 

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