Up In Smoke

I used to smoke cigarettes. For twenty-three years I was a pack-a-day smoker, and it wasn’t until I was nearing my fortieth birthday that I finally gave ‘em up. It wasn’t that turning forty was the compelling factor – it was a combination of life circumstances: marrying someone who didn’t smoke, the desire to raise a family and set the right example, a desire to increase my personal fitness and overall health, and let’s not dismiss the pressure that society has placed on the habit. Overall, it was a myriad of reasons, all good, that drove me to finally say goodbye to my old friend. And let’s be honest, cigarettes do become like friends to the smoker. They are always there to cheer us up when we are down. They are a constant companion – always with us. They may at times make us feel badly, but generally convince us everything is alright. And like most of our friends, they provide us the opportunity to meet other like-minded people. I used to enjoy taking my smoke break and interacting with the other smokers – every hour or two we’d gather outside and light up, discussing the current affairs or the game, or the office gossip, etc. Smokers do consider themselves a sort of private club – it’s always interesting to watch the non-smokers who elects to tag along. They always look so out of place to me.

Anyway, I quit smoking. It took 8 separate tries before I finally put them away. I’d say “for good” but like any addiction, this is a “one day at a time” deal. I can only state with some assurance that I will not smoke today; tomorrow will have to wait for tomorrow. I used a medication, Chantix, which really worked for me. But the factor that really made it possible was my desire to once and for all give it up. It’s a mind game, really. I would imagine holding my yet-to-be-born daughter and having her arch away from me because she didn’t like the way her daddy smelled. That image alone kept me focused. I’ll admit, there were (and are) times that I would really like to have a smoke, but I find it pretty easy to say no these days. And I’m grateful for that.

Barak Obama smokes. Well, publicly he’s discussed having quit, but he’s also on record saying he’s cheated a few times. I can speak from experience that when you say “cheated a few times “ you really haven’t quit yet. It just doesn’t work that way for an addicted smoker – of which he’s an admitted one. I know there are those people who can smoke socially, but I am not one of those, and neither is Barak Obama. In any case, he has taken some heat about his smoking habit, and there was an article discussing whether or not he’ll be “allowed” to smoke in the White House. I had to laugh. Hate to break it to you non-smokers, but if he’s still smoking come January 20th, he’ll be puffing in the White House, I can guarantee it.

Never-smokers (people who have never smoked) simply don’t get it when you talk about how hard it is to quit smoking. My wife is a fine example. She claims to have never tried smoking, and when we discuss the incredible will-power it takes to just say no, she seems to lump it together with denying oneself a favorite pair of shoes or television program. I try to explain it is as brutal as any addiction, but again, unless you have that life experience you just can’t understand. I’ve given up expecting her to, and really there’s no reason she has to. But when I was actively going through withdrawals and fighting it every inch of the way, it would drive me nuts when she (or anyone else for that matter) would say things like, “it can’t be that bad”, or “just chew some gum”.

I’m glad I quit. And I hope our new president can win his own battle eventually. It’s always sad to say goodbye to an old friend, but sometimes we just need to move on.