No Thank you. I’m a non smoker
I am a non-smoker.
Five simple words that are so easy to say, think, hell even type on this keyboard. Yet the consequences of such a phrase are parceled with that of Newton saying Eurika and ee cummings refusing to use punctuation… (which I shall refrain from doing otherwise we may lose the point that I am trying to make) which is that: I am a non-smoker.
Perhaps once this is finished it’ll even be published and discussed on Oprah, where we will sit and chat, sipping cool water out of a crystal cut glass, and laugh about the absurdist and unhealthiness of this “filthy and disgusting habit!” .By which time I’ll be well known, respected and rich. Or not.
I figure that it’s a good time to quit. This month marks my four year anniversary of being called a “smoker”. It only is four years mind, but it feels like I’ve known it forever. Like the tragedy Romeo and Juliet. U have a pair of star-crossed lovers, whose love is bright, passionate and surrounded by controversy that ultimately ends in death. And even though clever people argue that Romeo and Juliet is not a Shakespearean tragedy, as it was “written in the stars” and they have no inherent character flaw– its still bloody sad and u cry at the end, so my smoking I think at least deserves the title of “tragedy” in order for us to appreciate the fullness of what it is to part with it. That and metaphorically speaking I think it is written in the stars that I should quit and literally speaking I could end up dead…need I say more?
I think though, that I should at least give my cigarettes a name, title, or something. So at least when people ask me why I am sad I can at least say something along the lines of:
“ Chris and I broke up.” Or “Bob and I decided we should take a break and let things cool off for a while.” Better than, “Cigarettes are bad for you and I’ve only realized that now and I’ve given up.” Or worse, “I finally read the warnings on my box of smokes – did you know breastfeeding can harm your baby!”
People in general respond better to the names, although I’m sure that their response to the latter could be quite entertaining!
Now obviously cigarettes have different relationships with different people. Some people smoke because they’re stressed and need something to relax. Other people smoke for entertainment purposes and to “chill” out with their fellow dudes. Some because well, they’re bored. I wish I could use those things, but I smoke coz damn it looks cool! And no one can really deny it. Ok, take away all the health stuff and the controversy and u end up with someone who genuinely looks cool: Like a Partick Swazy – No-body puts Baby in the corner –kind of way. When I think of smoking I picture John Wayne/Clint Eastwood wearing a coyboy hat covered in dust standing in th blazing sun showing off his sherrif’s badge in the one have and lighting a cheroor in the other. GRRRR!
i did a show called "Hairspray" and was priveledged to play the incredible Tracy Turnblad, and with the added pressure of carrying the show and a management that one could equate with the Anceint Romans under the leadership of...casius, the tendency to smoke all the time, was rather, well strong. but as the universe and all health warnings would have it, management decided that i should quit...NOW! and no performances until i have a "clean lung filled with fresh air!" Ja well no fine, off to the candy store, bags of goo and a couple of expensive patches, off i go, leading my new life as a "non-smoker". But just like the stupid Capulets and the irritating Montecue families banning the 2 lovers to ever meet, so the the teenagers did what only was natural. They rebelled! And as my love affair with my smokes is one of passion and irrationaltiy (and still in our young years) my ego, super ego and id decided, bugga you i wont! So began a whole new phase of sneak chain smoking! (rebel!)
It was a disaster! after a good matinee performance, i would sneak to my car, grab smoke from cubby hole and go to the far corner on the roof parking lot, double clutching and dodging camers. (the theatre happened to be in a casino, so naturally there were cameras EVERYWHERE). But i succceed, to run back to my car to "fetch a jersey" only to realise that i had locked my keys in my car. And its an old little golf, so you know its off to go find a coathanger and break into my car. Cursing my stupid habit and the universe, muttering to myself that karma is a bitch! i have to go and get help. Problem is that the cubby hole is open and the box of my "vocal corrupter" is now in full view of anyone who walks past my car and i have managed to convince the unconvincible that i am now and have been a "non smoker". Thank god for fellow smokers, who eventually helped me and laughed, patting me on the back, whispering "welcome back!".
But i soon realised that sneak cain smoking was no way to live and since those ghastly 6 months i have made sure that everyone knows that i smoke and that i refuse to quit!
All good and well until now! I think i'm entering a whole new realm of considering quitting.
If Romeo had sneezed just before he took the poison and accidently spilt it, would the path of the star crossed lovers ended happily ever after? Do you think they were nervous telling their parents? Would they look back on their 50th wedding anneversary and laughed about the "younger days and how stupid their fears were"?
Will i do the same?
Will i one day be the person who gets to say, (whilst holding a big glass of red which i may have already drunk...) and say when offered, "oh, gosh no thanks, i'm a non smoker!"...
....:)
I am a non-smoker.
Five simple words that are so easy to say, think, hell even type on this keyboard. Yet the consequences of such a phrase are parceled with that of Newton saying Eurika and ee cummings refusing to use punctuation… (which I shall refrain from doing otherwise we may lose the point that I am trying to make) which is that: I am a non-smoker.
Perhaps once this is finished it’ll even be published and discussed on Oprah, where we will sit and chat, sipping cool water out of a crystal cut glass, and laugh about the absurdist and unhealthiness of this “filthy and disgusting habit!” .By which time I’ll be well known, respected and rich. Or not.
I figure that it’s a good time to quit. This month marks my four year anniversary of being called a “smoker”. It only is four years mind, but it feels like I’ve known it forever. Like the tragedy Romeo and Juliet. U have a pair of star-crossed lovers, whose love is bright, passionate and surrounded by controversy that ultimately ends in death. And even though clever people argue that Romeo and Juliet is not a Shakespearean tragedy, as it was “written in the stars” and they have no inherent character flaw– its still bloody sad and u cry at the end, so my smoking I think at least deserves the title of “tragedy” in order for us to appreciate the fullness of what it is to part with it. That and metaphorically speaking I think it is written in the stars that I should quit and literally speaking I could end up dead…need I say more?
I think though, that I should at least give my cigarettes a name, title, or something. So at least when people ask me why I am sad I can at least say something along the lines of:
“ Chris and I broke up.” Or “Bob and I decided we should take a break and let things cool off for a while.” Better than, “Cigarettes are bad for you and I’ve only realized that now and I’ve given up.” Or worse, “I finally read the warnings on my box of smokes – did you know breastfeeding can harm your baby!”
People in general respond better to the names, although I’m sure that their response to the latter could be quite entertaining!
Now obviously cigarettes have different relationships with different people. Some people smoke because they’re stressed and need something to relax. Other people smoke for entertainment purposes and to “chill” out with their fellow dudes. Some because well, they’re bored. I wish I could use those things, but I smoke coz damn it looks cool! And no one can really deny it. Ok, take away all the health stuff and the controversy and u end up with someone who genuinely looks cool: Like a Partick Swazy – No-body puts Baby in the corner –kind of way. When I think of smoking I picture John Wayne/Clint Eastwood wearing a coyboy hat covered in dust standing in th blazing sun showing off his sherrif’s badge in the one have and lighting a cheroor in the other. GRRRR!
i did a show called "Hairspray" and was priveledged to play the incredible Tracy Turnblad, and with the added pressure of carrying the show and a management that one could equate with the Anceint Romans under the leadership of...casius, the tendency to smoke all the time, was rather, well strong. but as the universe and all health warnings would have it, management decided that i should quit...NOW! and no performances until i have a "clean lung filled with fresh air!" Ja well no fine, off to the candy store, bags of goo and a couple of expensive patches, off i go, leading my new life as a "non-smoker". But just like the stupid Capulets and the irritating Montecue families banning the 2 lovers to ever meet, so the the teenagers did what only was natural. They rebelled! And as my love affair with my smokes is one of passion and irrationaltiy (and still in our young years) my ego, super ego and id decided, bugga you i wont! So began a whole new phase of sneak chain smoking! (rebel!)
It was a disaster! after a good matinee performance, i would sneak to my car, grab smoke from cubby hole and go to the far corner on the roof parking lot, double clutching and dodging camers. (the theatre happened to be in a casino, so naturally there were cameras EVERYWHERE). But i succceed, to run back to my car to "fetch a jersey" only to realise that i had locked my keys in my car. And its an old little golf, so you know its off to go find a coathanger and break into my car. Cursing my stupid habit and the universe, muttering to myself that karma is a bitch! i have to go and get help. Problem is that the cubby hole is open and the box of my "vocal corrupter" is now in full view of anyone who walks past my car and i have managed to convince the unconvincible that i am now and have been a "non smoker". Thank god for fellow smokers, who eventually helped me and laughed, patting me on the back, whispering "welcome back!".
But i soon realised that sneak cain smoking was no way to live and since those ghastly 6 months i have made sure that everyone knows that i smoke and that i refuse to quit!
All good and well until now! I think i'm entering a whole new realm of considering quitting.
If Romeo had sneezed just before he took the poison and accidently spilt it, would the path of the star crossed lovers ended happily ever after? Do you think they were nervous telling their parents? Would they look back on their 50th wedding anneversary and laughed about the "younger days and how stupid their fears were"?
Will i do the same?
Will i one day be the person who gets to say, (whilst holding a big glass of red which i may have already drunk...) and say when offered, "oh, gosh no thanks, i'm a non smoker!"...
....:)
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