Smoking in the Boy's Room

[sailaway21]

Ok, I smoke. Today I choose to smoke a pipe as it offers considerable cost savings over cigars. Cigars remain my smoke of choice. Both I find far preferable, and much more enjoyable, than cigarette smoking an affection for which I've never developed. That ought to cover the disclosure end of things.

I smoke because I enjoy it. I am probably addicted to it but rarely get the nicotine pangs that some report when forced to abstain for a period of time. My enjoyment of smoking is better described by Kipling's poem "The Betrothed" than my own efforts. I'll endeavor to print it up for you as it's a part of what I regard as the essential Kipling.

I'm probably shortening my life by smoking but, so what? No one lives forever and, the case can be made, that few ever really live. Short experiences tend to be more intense, like automobile wrecks. I'll take intense over stupefication any day. I'm gratified to hear that smoker's have lower incidences of Parkinson's and Alzheimer's diseases. I'd prefer to go out younger, lucid, and steady handed at the helm. In the meantime, smoking provides an imposition of calmness and reflection, on a life lived in a manner where these are necessitated. I've got a lot to think about; past, present, and future. Sticking an instrument of pleasure in my mouth tends to focus me more on the reflection of those thoughts versus the mere engaging of more present events.

I live within a "drug-free school zone" and while this would be quite a damper on any prospective side-job in the medical marijuana business, I suspect that I am still in violation of some type of code on my own property. And that get's to the rub of the matter.

I grew up in a non-smoking household with a plethora of relatives who smoked. When they visited, they smoked. We regarded the allowing of the practise as a matter of hospitality in the same way that Aunt Junia got the bed, while cousin Jenny slept on the couch. All of my smoking relatives were invariably gracious and did not light up in the car or at any time that it might cause discomfort. My memories are one's of the quick extinction of the offending cigarette. The possible exception being a grandfather to whom no one spoke in restrictive tones. That individual, a former Chief of Police of Toledo and one of Ike's US Marshall's, was my first exposure to cigar smoking. I formed the impression that the bulls favored cigars while lesser mortals within law enforcement, like prosecutors and clerks, were cigarette smokers. State troopers were "bulls" while anyone local was a mere officer. Bulls would whack you to your knees as soon as talk to you. Grandfather was a bull, smoked his cigar as it pleased him, and thought's that he might still carry his ever-present sap were sufficient to quell any desire to see the raging aspect of his bullishness. Only later did one recall that, while he did not remove his cigar from his mouth when entering the newspaper shop, he did quit puffing.

A large measure of civility accompanied the smoking of my less than immediate family. Smoking was a social act, with an emphasis on the social. At larger gatherings, cigars would be consumed in an adjacent room from matters more childish. It was a polite way of not distressing while also not obviously displaying that adult themes would be the topic in that room.

All that is gone now. I like to think the start of it all came with those households that posted signs requesting the removal of footwear before entering. That practise continues to befuddle as much as those with prefabricated signs next to their entrance proclaiming "No Smoking" or "Smoke-Free Facility". To steal from Christopher Hitchens, I don't socialize in "facilities" and when did people lose the knowledge that white carpeting is considered decadent? Bordellos famously sport white carpeting in their operating theaters, but of course they continue to allow for the post-coital smoke.

What possesses a society to ban smoking in public places? Restaurant bans are particularly perplexing. Dining out is a luxury and should be treated as such. Anti-smokers flock as much to steak-houses with their smoking and flaming grills as much as the smoker does yet find one hydrocarbon the equivalent of typhoid and the other delicious. Surely there are a plethora of non-smoking restaurants to meet the needs of the non-smoking diner as well as the smoking-offended waiter. The only explanation that rings true to me is the combination of a highly prized and over-developed olifactory sense, and the joy in self-righteous sanctimony. These people were no doubt offended by the poor slob who actually wore the Hai-Karate cologne Aunt Bertha gave him for Christmas and eagerly look forward to their annual check-up where they can report to their physician their avoidance of all things toxic.

Yet many of them continue to enjoy their open fireplaces in much the same way that young females remark approvingly of the odor of my pipe. That those females follow that comment with a further remark that it reminds them of their grandfather, does only little to dampen my affection for them. And, what's more interesting, is that those who pursue the matter a bit further always ask if it is a cherry blend I'm smoking. Since I smoke a blend scented with vanilla, this calls into question the olifactory awareness of the human nose. Blind taste tests confirm that most cannot determine the difference in that between lima beans and cauliflower. they know what they're tasting they just cannot put their finger on it without the visual or tactile stimuli. thus smokers, many yards away, receive disapproving glares.

Even non-smokers have had their sense of morality challenged. It was not all that long ago that non-smoking men would make the annual trek to the baseball game, luxuriating in a day off from work in the middle of summer and their annual cigar with not seen enough comrades. A victory of most any sort was call for a fine cigar. I'm struck by all those photos, now expunged by a politically-correct media, of victorious battle tank crews enjoying a proud after-action cigar. The grizzled Marine sergeant with a cigar clamped between his teeth is almost synonymous. The image of the general handing the sergeant a better brand than he's accustomed to is similarly engrained. the unspoken word is that he's earned it, as much as the general has, and is likely a more lasting tribute than any medal. The instances of celebratory cigar smoking are legion. Handing the new father a stick of Big Red chewing gum doesn't quite have the same panache or sensitivity to the uniqueness of the moment.

Like all matters taken to excess, the scourge of the smoker from our midst has resulted in a loss of civility. Polite deference to the non-smoker goes by the boards when said offended treks one hundred feet across open outdoor space to make his grievance known. Still he usually relies on the age-old dictums of civility, "it's bothering my wife", when making his case. In the smoking wars, such inane ideas that someone could be effected at such distance, are no longer met with a simple, "Oh, I'm sorry" and extinguishment, but rather a, "tough xxxx". And it was not smoker's intransigence that led to this. It was simple old-fashioned busy-bodyism and intolerance of behalf of the self-annoited arbiters of the public good.

Smoking is hardly the most pressing medical issue confronting us. Smoking kills old people, reducing the overall burden on the medical industry long before they are able to rack up really large costs. Were we concerned about the health of our citizens, we'd ban obesity. Of course, they are trying that in NYC to mixed results. Childhood obesity results in a lifetime of involvement with the medical community. Smoking or passive smoking cannot compare.

Here's to a life worth celebrating. Have a cigar.

[sailaway21]

Here are the studies on second-hand or passive smoke. You'll find that the EPA has ignored the actual results of it's own study in deference to it's pre-determined conclusions. In short, there are no statistically significant cancer or heart-lung death correlaries between inhalation of second-hand smoke and longevity. Other studies have shown that children exposed to such things as environmental smoke, be it wood burning or tobacco smoke, have lower incidences of lung disorders later in life. The first link, before the study's link, is of an article by Michael Fumento, who has made a career out of demolishing medical shibboleths.

http://www.spectator.org/dsp_article.asp?art_id=7808


http://www.bmj.com/cgi/content/full/...ype=1,2,3,4,10

http://www.epa.gov/ebtpages/airindoo...accosmoke.html

[PBzeer]

Though this is only supposistion, I can easily imagine that smoking would not be near the problem it is considered to be, if it just didn't smell so bad. And that's irrespective of any health claims.

The idea of banning a legal act though, in any venue, solely of choice (ie: bars, resturaunts, nightclubs) is most definitely, an abridgement of my right to freely associate with others.

I smoke a pipe, and in all my time of so doing, I've only ever had one person say they didn't like the smell of it. They weren't concerned about any possible medical effects, only the effect on their olafactory sense.

[rennisaint]

From an epicurean standpoint, I totally understand not wanting smoking in restaurants. If I spend a few hundred dollars on a meal, I want to taste that meal, not the guy's robusto across the way. That is why quality establishments have separate smoking lounges with strong air handlers. Now bars on the other hand, should be smoking facilities in my humble opinion.

Caveat emptor: I love a fine cigar, and when I cannot get one, I enjoy a pipe almost as much. So my views may be tainted.

[Sailormon6]

I smoked cigarettes, cigars and pipes at one time or another, but not now. I confess that smoking now disgusts me, because for many years before the CEOs of tobacco companies admitted it publicly, I knew that tobacco was addictive and that it could kill me. We smokers didn't need the Congress to tell us that.

Smoking disgusts me, because it's the only substance that ever had such a hold on me that it deprived me of my free will, and I resented the fact that any chemical could do that to me. In fact, when I finally realized that it had such a hold over me, that's the one thing that finally gave me the strength to break free of it.

Despite the fact that my senses rebel at the smell of tobacco, I would never criticise a smoker or offend him for his habit, because now, my son is a smoker, and it hurts me to see him standing alone, outside, in the cold or rain, smoking a cigarette, as if he was an outcast, unable to break the habit.

[max-on]

Sailaway, I just arrived home, after reading your post I think I will get a Don Carlos out of the humi and enjoy the snowfall and my early retreat from the office!

[sailaway21]

Kipling proves, yet again, that there is little new under the sun. My definitive edition of his poetry prefaces the poem with the following: "You must choose between me and your cigar"-Breach of Promise Case, circa 1885.

Herewith the famous poem:

"Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.

We quarrelled about Havanas-we fought o'er a good cheroot,
And I know she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.

Open the old cigar-box--let me consider a space;
In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie's face.

Maggie is pretty to look at-Maggie's a loving lass,
But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.

There's peace in a Larranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay;
But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away--

Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown-
But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town!

Maggie, my wife at fifty-grey and dour and old-
With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold!

And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are,
And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar--

The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket--
With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket!

Open the old cigar-box-let me consider a while.
Here is a mild Manila-there is a wifely smile.

Which is the better portion-bondage bought with a ring,
Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string?

Counsellors cunning and silent--comforters true and tried,
And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride?

Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes,
Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close,

This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return,
With only a Suttee's passion--to do their duty and burn.

This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead,
Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead.

The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,
When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again.

I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal,
So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall.

I will scent 'em of best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides,
And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides.

For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between
The wee whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen.

And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear,
But I have been a Priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year;

And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light
Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight.

And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,
But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love.

Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire?
Since a puff of smoke can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire?

Open the old cigar-box--let me consider anew--
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?

A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke.

Light me another Cuba--I hold to my first-sworn vows.
If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for Spouse!

[Giulietta]

My humble Cuban cigar collection...a bonus of living in Portugal...easy to find good ones, it's legal

Nothing like a good sail and a cigar to match....the only box I never remove off the boat is the humidor..























From Churchils by Romeo Y Julieta, to Robustos, even a Gran Vitola...I've got some real rare stuff----you'll find a lot of variety in my living room...SA come on over....get a taste....

PS
Don't want smell?? don't want second hand smoke?? Don't come near me...I promisse I will not come near you...

I don't smoke in the house and in closed environments or near the kids.

[bubb2]

I am a smoker also. Pipes and cigs (if I don't have time for the pipe)

A few years ago, New York was one of the first places to pass bans on smoking in public places. The powers to be championed the cause based on the idea that the second hand smoke was unhealthy for the employee's of the restaurant or bar where ban would take effect. Lets remember the people took these jobs knowing that there would be smoking in these establishments before the ban.

After the ban , I stopped at my boat club's bar for a beer after work one day. I took a seat and waited for several minutes and then I asked the guy next to me where is all the help. He told me they were outside smoking and they would be back in minute.

[max-on]

UUUGGGGHHHHHH!!!

Ok, that is it, I have had it. It is bad enough I have to watch Giu sail day after day while I am here with the snow and freezing rain!!! But a 'multiple drawer' humidor with cubans - cohiba, R&J, . . ., Giu you really kill me, and you just ruined my AF Don Carlos. The only thing I have close to that is Opus X or Davidoff Limited Edition Puro, and now, I'm just not in the mood!

Thanks for sharing.

Max