A History Of Smoking Fags
Posted on August 27, 2010
I am approaching my fourth week without a cigarette, I feel better, though my biggest battle in the weeks ahead will be with self righteousness rather that nicotine. I have stopped smoking before, sometimes for a day, or a week, and once for 6 years, before I stupidly smoked a Cafe Creme cigar on a boys weekend in Bulgaria which kicked off the whole downward spiral once again.
I firmly believe that smoking is a battle of will power over creature habits, rather than a false belief that we become addicted to nicotine. Patches, pills, and false cigarettes are in my opinion a load of old bollocks, and a marketing con to extract money out of people desperate to break the habit. Smoking is a comfort blanket, or a dummy for grown ups, children go for their comfort rags or dummies when they are stressed, or upset, adults do the same with fags. How many times have you seen someone fresh out of an argument, a car prang, or a sudden shock, reach for the comfort of fags. I often did it as my son was going out to bat at cricket, which is a bit pathetic really, but stressful all the same, though it would be a bit churlish to blame him for lung cancer.
What got me to quit this time was an all of the wall comment from my friend Nick Mabey in Broughton. After we had done a four mile fun run in Swanage, Nick was really impressed with my efforts, especially as I had been in the holiday smoking mode of at least 20 a day. He basically said this:
“Bob for someone who likes running, and who is good at it, I can’t believe you smoke. That makes you a bit of cunt really.”