Michele always gives us her unvarnished opinion and today is no exception. It turns out that she decided to kick the black lung habit and is keeping a diary of all the mood swings associated with quitting. Excerpt:

I don't blame big tobacco or the government or Joe Camel for my addiction. The blame rests solely with me. I willingly picked up a habit I knew was destructive, costly and disgusting. And not just once. I quit and went back a few times, knowing full well what I was doing.

I don't blame McDonald's for my weight gain. I don't blame the makers of M&M's for my cavities. I don't blame my parents for my shortcomings. I don't blame Judas Priest for my crappy hearing. And I don't blame RJ Reynolds for my expensive, lung destroying habit.

Doesn't she realize that she's a helpless pawn of Big Tobacco? I guess the fact that she doesn't notice is just more proof that the conspiracy is working.

Anyway, kudos to her for finally kicking the habit. I remember when my mother quit; I was about 8 years old. She told me that she had started smoking back when she was 15 years old. Apparently my great aunt Margaret had dared her: "I bet that you can't smoke this cigarette." Of all the reasons to pick up the habit, the Dog Dare seems the most pathetic. She didn't even try for the Triple Dog Dare, which is a complete breach in etiquette. Or something.

My mother had tried numerous times to quit. Eventually, she'd just have to have one, and that would be that. Finally, though, she developed an allergy to cigarette smoke. This gave her the impetus she needed to stop for good.

Before you say anything, yes, even some people with asthma smoke. No offense, but those people are freaking idiots. I've seen a severe asthma attack; it's pretty damned scary. And the idea that someone would willingly force something into their lungs that might trigger an attack is insane. But hey, it's your life.

Smoking has never appealed to me. Back when I was a teenager, I remember sneaking a puff of a butt that my grandmother had left smoldering. No inhalation, just a little puff. I also remember the burning in my eyes and nose, concurrent with a coughing fit that I had to suppress so that I would be discovered. Never again would the idea of lighting up have any appeal to me.

A couple of years later, a friend of mine started smoking a pipe. It smelled pretty good and he offered to let me take a couple of puffs to see how I'd like it. He offered me the following warning:

"Be careful, though. It will leave an off taste in your mouth."

::gag:: It tasted like a cat had used my mouth as a litterbox. I tried brushing my teeth and gargling with mouthwash. I drank a 6-pack of Coke. Nothing removed the disgusting coating from my tongue except the passage of time. That experience also queered me on the idea of ever trying cigars. Pot, too. I'm a member of the small minority of people born since 1960 who have never tried marijuana, not even once. Remember: I'd have to willingly take smoke into my mouth and lungs. Uh no. I don't think so.

To me, it's all about the personal responsibility. Make your own decisions and live with the consequences. Regretting your choices is also an option. What isn't, though, is blaming someone else.

Posted by: Physics Geek at 09:32 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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