Farewell to Cigarettes

Dear Capri Menthol 120's,

I never had a cute nickname for cigarettes. I never called them cigs or 'rettes, cancer sticks or -- as Britney Spears says -- "Mommy's lollipops." So to call you something cute now seems ridiculous, especially since I'm writing this to say goodbye.

I started smoking when I was 18 years old, a freshman at Hollins. Strangest thing -- at my high school, only the rednecks smoked. When arrived at Hollins, the most expensive women's college in Virginia, loaded with rich girls and daddys' girls and scholarship girls, I was surprised to find out that not smoking was weird. The girls and professors would bring their own ashtrays to class, light up, and smoke throughout the lectures and poetry readings.

I resisted for several months, but as spring began turning the world green, I gave in. I bought a pack of clove cigarettes -- yes, cloves! -- and sat on the lawn in front of the music building with my friend Shelley, and I taught myself to smoke. Finally, I had something in common with all those self-assured, confident rich girls.

The switch to Marlboros was easy and logical -- they were less expensive than clove cigarettes.

That summer, I went to work at camp and one night on a counselors boat trip, one of my co-workers said, "Oh, try a menthol! They're so coooooool going down your throat. You've got to try it!" And I tried it, and honestly, that's when I became well and truly hooked. I tried smoking a Marlboro after that and it tasted stale and icky. I threw away half a pack and walked a mile or two to the nearest store to get a couple of packs of menthol cigarettes. I'm trying to remember the brand. I did like the flip-top box, so I think I started smoking Virginia Slims Lights Menthols. It was either that or Benson & Hedges Deluxe Ultra Light Menthols. Try buying a pack of those when you've been to a sorority party. I dare ya.

I'm a writer, so I could go on forever with these nostalgic memories. I remember that during those early years, when smoking was still allowed in most public places, strangers would actually walk up to me and compliment me on the *way* I smoked. They said I held the cigarette so elegantly. I think that was my theatre background -- I did tend to treat a cigarette like a prop.

When I started dating my husband, he would light my cigarettes for me as if he were a gentleman, until we had been dating for about two months. One night he picked up my lighter and started to reach across the table, stopped, and said, "Nope. I'm not going to help you kill yourself." I thought it was cute.

I taught myself to blow smoke rings one summer by smoking in front of the mirror a lot. I can still do it. I did it just last night for old time's sake. And because I might not ever do it again.

And that brings me to today -- and why I'm quitting smoking. It isn't because I don't like it. I do. I like taking a break now and then to smell the roses, watch the hummingbirds, drink a cup of coffee, and have a cigarette. And I absolutely adore smokers themselves. Judgmental non-smokers are a bane on the face of the earth, and if I become one of them, my sister has my permission to run over me with one of her cute little cars.

No, I'm quitting because it's getting too expensive. And while I like tobacco and love smokers, I have to admit, I can't climb a flight of stairs the way I used to. My teeth aren't as white and perfect as some people'e are. And I really resent the way the non-smokers are making tons of money off my cigarette taxes. They totally don't deserve that money. *I* do. I deserve my money. I can use it for all sorts of fun stuff for me, instead of letting the judgmental, un-fun, non-smoking governments (state AND federal) use my money for un-fun stuff.

It may not be the kind of reason that works for everyone, but it's my reason. And that's why I'm saying goodbye to cigarettes.

G'bye, little Capris.

Smooches,
Bay