Wednesday, January 29, 2014

addictive


I might not look like it, but I'm a natural-born smoker. Okay, I've smoked an occasional cigarillo ... just one or two ... but I don't smoke. From an early age, I've been enamored with the whole process of smoking; the look of the pack, the lighter, the exhale, the cigarette in my hand, poised between drags.

I had it down perfectly at age four. Uncle would take me to Chew's Grocery, in rural Burlington, Indiana, on the handlebars of his bicycle. My choice was always candy cigarettes. They used to sell them in little packs that looked similar to the real thing. I didn't actually eat the chalky candy, just pretended to smoke it, tap the ash with an expert flick of my little fingers. It all came very naturally to me, even exhaling up, so the smoke wouldn't blow in my imaginary friend's face.

When Grandma caught me in my favorite pastime, she, like Queen Victoria, was not amused. The sandy scuff of her house shoes on the hardwood floor signaled me to extinguish the cigarette in the tea set saucer I used as an ashtray. She frowned on the notion of a little thing like me pretending to smoke, even though it felt so very right.

It's a good thing I didn't start, because it would be a habit too hard to shake. These days I make do with nibbling my nails. It's part of my addictive personality, and certainly not as satisfying as smoking. I keep them coated in Black Cherry polish to remind me not to chew, but it doesn't keep me from craving a glamorous smoke from one of those curious finger holders Gloria Swanson used in Sunset Blvd.


One-cigarette poems

hang sexy and impatient,
hand-rolled thought-bubbles
combust smooth and easy.

Pluck them fast ―
inhale before they sprout nervous wings
and take flight.

Pen them down, taste,
capture the essence as it smolders,
circles the ashtray,

spellbound in the mouth,
taking a chance,
bulletproof, addictive.



tk/December 2012



* Candy Cigarette, 1989, by Sally Mann


28 comments:

  1. My smoking song: http://www.simmers1.webspace.virginmedia.com/192smoke.html

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Charming poem, Danish...thanks for sharing!

      Delete
  2. Back in the '60s, watching the Beatles smoke their American Marlboros, I tried oh so hard to be a smoker. It should have come easy to me--my entire family were smokers--but I just couldn't be bothered to remember to light up and drag away so often. I couldn't get in the habit. Instead, after I turned 21, I smoked only in night clubs, where I thought I looked so very cool with my brown paper Shermans. Like you, I'm a nail nibbler, but I always wanted to look like John Lennon smoking a ciggie.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. SK, I suppose we should be glad it didn't take...but it is hard on the nails...

      Delete
  3. 33 years of chain smoking for me. But I quit 22 years ago so maybe I'm safe. It was fun, though, and oh so cool.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Good for you, Bruce...yeah I think you're safe...

      Delete
  4. Oh gee Tess, you've brought to light two of my favorite things. Riding on the handlebars and eating those candy cigarettes. I used them too for just pretend, but they were so delicious very quickly the red tip gone first and then ever so slowly the rest!

    ReplyDelete
  5. That photo is priceless too!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sally Mann one of my favorite photographers...

      Delete
  6. my parents used to have bridge parties when I was young, under age 5. one night my mom's brother, Uncle Richard, fresh from serving his Army stint (in Germany during the Vietnam War), was my target: can I have a smoke? He chuckled, handed me the lit cig, and intoned, 'be sure to inhale really hard, like this', pantomiming a chest filling inhaled. So I did, and immediately felt like I was going to die. Everyone laughed. 'good', he said, 'now you know not to smoke.' well, not cigarettes, yeah ~

    ReplyDelete
  7. You do look like a natural born smoker, Tess. You are going against nature by not doing it.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I only ever wanted to smoke to look cool. Now, being near 50, and not a smoker, I very much wish I had a pipe in the fashion of Bilbo Baggins, and a pouch of sweet scented tobacco to light up while checking out the night sky before bed. My wife and kids and friends want to slap me every time I bring it up. So, I make do with a glass of wine instead. Hmph.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You're giving me a powerful craving for a pipe, Casey...

      Delete
    2. A none smoker after my own heart Casey....a nice long clay pipe held gently to one side eh?

      Delete
    3. I didn't buy my first pipe until I was in my 30s... I now have a lovely collection. I don't smoke often, but when I do it's always in memory of my dear Dad. No reason you couldn't pick up a nice pipe and some smooth tobacco and have an occasional puff...

      Delete
  9. I can soooo relate to this Tess....I to have always been fascinated by the whole aura of smoking....actually I have been working on a piece somewhat similar but different still about that very thing. I have always smoked in my dreams.....:-)

    ReplyDelete
  10. I was so glad to learn you don't smoke, Tess. Who was it who said, "Kissing a girl who smokes is like licking a dirty ashtray"? @-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Kissing me is not like that...good to see you back, Mr. B...

      Delete
  11. I dedicated about 30 years of my life to un-tipped Gauloises, then one day I decided that enough was enough. I still miss that wonderful aroma, but not the smoking.

    ReplyDelete
  12. I miss it too...and I never even started...

    ReplyDelete
  13. I was a smoker for 20 years and a lifelong nail biter. I kicked the cigarette habit, but will never be able to stop biting my nails.

    ReplyDelete
  14. A hen do can be great fun for all the girls involved. Planning a hen party is fun and exciting too. Thanks for sharing.

    hen do london & hen parties in london

    ReplyDelete
  15. You too? Thought I might be alone on this one. I tried to be a smoker, loving everything you so beautifully described about 'the cig.' I ended up being horribly awkward, burning my fingers with lighters, dropping ash all over the place. A total disaster. Glad now it was.

    (Oh, those Dunhills did taste good)

    ReplyDelete

Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)