Over a glass of wine my octogenarian friend and I were discussing the habit of smoking and where people used to be able to smoke (back in the day). She is a former high school French teacher and remembered her high school students had a “smoking porch” where they could smoke on breaks. I remembered people smoking on airplanes. (Ew!) Where do you remember people smoking that seems SOOO off and odd to us today? And were you a smoker? Still? (No judgement!)
Yes, growing up, smoking was everywhere. Unlit tobacco actually smells good. After it’s lit? Not so much. I don’t know if my memory is skewed over time, but I don’t even think you had to be over 18 to buy cigarettes because it seems like I remember going to the store to get cigarettes for my dad.
But tobacco produces 2 strong memories for me. My dad, for a long time was a smoker—he probably started smoking back in his teens, not sure exactly. And I learned through him how addicting smoking can be — it took until he had a serious heart attack to get him to give it up.
Then there was phase 2: He went to chewing tobacco instead — until he developed patches in his mouth that put him at oral cancer risk and he finally gave that up too.
I don’t know if the brand still exists because I don’t pay attention to tobacco products, but my Dad smoked Salems so any time I hear that word I think of him.
Being exposed to the risks of addiction through smoking was a good teaching tool. Thankfully I never smoked or drank, but that’s not the only way you can become addicted to something—for me I’ve wrestled with food product addiction. The big one is chocolate. Moderation is great, but going overboard? Not so much. The other is Barq’s rootbeer–I really have to limit myself but boy I could drink that stuff all day. LOL! So whether it’s smoking or food, I can see how easily we can get stuck on it. We humans struggle with moderation. 😎
As it happens, I worked in the high school I attended. As a student we had a smoking lounge. When I worked there and got a tour I got strange looks calling the Senior Cafeteria the Smoking Lounge. It still had burn marks on the floor. Still does.
Northwest Airlines was the first air carrier to ban smoking. They saved millions. Planes were easier to clean and could get turned around faster. Seats and carpets didn’t get burns and lasted longer. The air filters lasted twice as long. It ads up.
Both of my parents smoked…Camels, as I recall. Both had an ashtray next to their dinner plates, so…we kiddos smoked, too. 🥴
Don’t remember a smoke place for students, but the teachers lounge always had curls floating out from under the door.
We like to say it’s a different world now, but it’s not, really. We’ve legalized some stuff that shouldn’t be. (IMHO) We’re the only species that invents ways of destroying ourselves.
Happy Friday! 🤓
Whenever I smell cigarette smoke, I hear the French language. My father was French. When he spoke to his sisters by telephone, he spoke to them in French and lit up a cigarette. I was around 4 years old when the ritual anchored in my brain.
Both my parents smoked, as did many of their friends. I’m the oldest of four kids, and the only one who didn’t pick up the habit. I was used to the smell but didn’t like it.
The oddest place for me now was the little windshield cleaner bottling plant I worked at back in 1980. I remember the chemical engineer standing at the top of one of the big chemical tanks when it was open, a lit cigarette dangling out of his mouth.
I started smoking freshman year in college (I made sure to do everything my parents forbid me to do in those four years of newfound freedom). By the time I quit 12 years later I was up a pack a day. My husband and I quit on the last day of our honeymoon because we wanted kids. Allegedly quit. About six months later I came home and saw Tim on the balcony of our apartment, smoking. He finally quit about 10 years later on Thanksgiving. I remember because my kids and I finally went outside and sat on the curb while he cussed and banged pots and pans around in the kitchen in his withdrawal stage. He quit because they became too expensive. He still has a letter my daughter wrote to him in grade school asking him to quit taped to the side of his desk. For me it was the worst withdrawal/addiction I’ve been through. That’s the only thing that keeps me from starting again. I still dream occasionally that I’m smoking and it’s been 38 years. Even the smell, the burned holes in clothing, the burnt upholstery in my car, even the cost, didn’t stop me. Yes, we do invent things that will kill us and we do it very well!
My father started smoking as a teenage in WW2, when cigarettes were part of rations. At home, he smoked Lucky Strikes — 2 to 4 packs a day. He would wake up at 6 every morning and start coughing. The coughing quickly turned into vomiting. Listening to him throw up in the bathroom was my morning wake-up. It killed all desire to smoke, and sadly, smoking killed him.
uh, teenager.
Clean the air! Mulch a tree with a smoker.
My mother smoked Salems. She would give me a dollar to buy her a pack and I got to keep the change. My dad occasionally smoked a cigar, but he told my brothers that if they promised to never start, he would quit, and he did. The smelly ashtray next to a cup of coffee is why I never touched either. We begged Mom to quit, but she didn’t, even after she got the lung cancer that killed her. She said she started because in movies and on billboards, smoking was depicted as being very glamorous. I remember seeing pictures of haggard women, sagging eyes and skin, deep wrinkles, with the caption, “Smoking is very glamorous.”
My mother used to send me to the corner store to buy cigarettes for her when I was a kid. I was allowed to buy a candy bar with the change. No one ever questioned my purchases.
C141s came with ash trays at every crew position (the flt eng’s was about 12 inches from the 02 mask, if I remember correctly) but the AF had banned smoking in the cockpit by the time I was flying because nicotine gummed up the venturis in the cabin pressure controllers.
Post-AF I spent a few months doing concrete inspection. One day a backhoes dug too deeply and found a gas line. In short order,there were a dozen people standing on the edge of the pit, listening to the pipe hiss. Thirty seconds later someone muttered, “I guess I’d better lose this,” and ground his cigarette out.
I was able to smoke in the hospital after having a baby! Nursing the baby and smoking! Imagine. I also used to go to the store and buy smokes for my dad. They were like, 35 cents a pack then. And when we lived in Quebec and I was 12 I could buy 3 quarts of beer for a dollar at the grocery store for my dad.