around 1992, john cougar mellencamp (aka “the coug’”) performed on mtv unplugged. there he sat, gibson dove guitar in hand, engraved with the phrase “f*ck fascism”, dark sunglasses on, playing songs i loved, smoking camels. in a word, he was the epitome of cool.
thus began my love affair with smoking.
say what you will, but smoking looks cool. james dean, humphrey bogart, jack kerouac, keith richards, bruce willis in die hard, ryan adams on the cover of heartbreaker…the list goes on and on. c’mon, do you really think keef would look nearly as cool doing his 5 string thing in open g if there wasn’t a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips? i think not.
its strange, but i actually have a sense of loss by quitting. smoking was part of my demeanor, my style, my whatever-you’d-call-it. i’d make a point in conversation, stabbing the air with cigarette in hand. the thoughtful pause that went along with the draw of the smoke, opinions and eloquence billowing from my mouth in time with the blue-grey haze. there are so many important moments and decisions in my life where sitting at a waffle house or a back porch or in a car, smoking the answer out, was part of the solution finding process.
i used to walk on stage, cigarette in one hand, scotch (neat) or beer in the other. i’d take a drag, my back to the audience, exhale to slow it all down and collect my nerves; snuff it out firmly, face the crowd and do my thing.
nervous? smoke.
tired? smoke.
keyed up? smoke.
stressed out? smoke.
gradually, i cut back the smoking; only at bars and parties, and always at home before going to bed. when i say always, i mean ALWAYS. it’d be 5 degrees below stupid and there i’d be, bundled up, smoking my american spirits so i could fall asleep. i could get home at 3 from a show having smoked the better part of a pack, and still sit out on the porch and untangle my mind over a couple more.
i cut out the party smoking. cut out the bar smoking. and tried cutting out the front porch smoking. i’ve gone as many as 7 miserable days without a cigarette before bed. i tried sudoku and hot tea. that would just piss me off and make me want to smoke. i tried meditation. i’d get frustrated by sucking at it, so i’d go smoke. everything led to the porch and the cigarettes.
so, yeah, i’m a little sad that i’m not sitting here on the front porch smoking as i type this. i WANT to smoke. but i also WANT to quit. i’m not doing it to appease anyone other than myself. i know its bad for me, and i know that most of my friends and loved ones wish i would quit. i know that i can do many more things that are important to me more effectively if i never pick up another american spirit organic light (the orange pack, just in case you’re keeping score). so i’m not going to.
so i’m just gonna have to be sad for a few days until the reality of a healthier me kicks in.
now if you’ll excuse me, i gotta go listen to that tape…
