Third Cig-less Week

spr060837.JPGThursday, August 31, 2006

Well, I didn’t think I would keep a running tally like this, but what the heck? Tarnation, jethro! Am well into the third cig-less week, will start the fourth. I never thought this would be possible. My friends, I started smoking at the tender age of 15. My father, seeing that I would never stop stealing his cigarettes decided to just buy me a carton of L & M’s when he bought his weekly cartons of Raleigh straights and Bel Airs at the Cliff Brice gas station where they were cheap. Cigs in them days, chilluns, was about 35 cents a pack. Hell, gasoline was 24 cents a gallon. That’s GALLON, 4 plus litres. This is what happens, the world changes and you get older and you go on and on telling the young folks about stuff that bores ’em silly. Memories of a vanished world.

Way back when, my darlings, in High School in 1970 and on, we were allowed to smoke in the courtyard in the middle of our school. Somehow, then, as now, the more interesting people were smokers so I took up the habit with a vengeance.

And I have been lucky, my wee bairns, I have been to a doctor for a chest x-ray and all, and I don’t have cancer, and I don’t have emphysema or smoker’s leg or bladder cancer AND NOW IT LOOKS LIKE I WON’T HAVE TO GET THEM EITHER!

And the main thing is, the thing I despise about addiction, is not the poor suckers who have been exposed to toxic habit-forming chemicals and have been encouraged by the siren songs of omnipresent advertising to continue to consume those chemicals. Those on nicotine, heroin, cocaine, are so many hosts to the parasitical hell spawn men who seek to prolong their own lives at the expense of their fellows. And what does the man who continues to pursue material wealth long after his own needs are met for the next two million years want from his wealth but more time on earth? More life, suckers, and we’ll suck your souls from you like crawdad brains to get it.

Yes, testify, I’m talking about all the pushers in town, from tobacco to smack, to burgers, to missiles, western economics seems to have taken for its model not free or fair trade, no no, drug dealing seems to be the way forward for the capitalist dream machine, gang.

Well, I’m just happy that now, I don’t have to have a tracheotomy hole in my neck, I don’t have to walk around with an oxygen tank, I have been spared the gallows, my friends. That’s something to be a wee bit pleased with, no?

No smoking, First Week

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Nicotine patch on my thigh

No smoking, first week

Yes indeed, dear friends, it is now one week since last I lit a paper tube full of dry leaves, put it in my mouth and inhaled the vapours. Though I have been plastering my thigh with nicotine poltices, this week has marked the first period of any duration at all in the last thirty or so years that I have not marked the passing of each 5 minute interval with a cigarette.

I shall not keep a daily record of this activity, or non-activity, this cessation. That would get boring.

It is not so damn tough after all.
No smoking, 2 days in.
And so, and so, today marks the 2nd day of no cigarettes pour moi. Oh yes. For the first time in over 30 years I have made it through two whole days without a cigarette. Wearing that patch on my arm, drinking lots of roiibos tea, eating fruit. Not so damn bad. If it weren’t also so hot in athens. And if those wee green bugs with richard nixon’s face would stop lecturing me in trans temporal vibration language about semiotics and the steely flavor of musics.

more later