Day Thirteen

Where did the time go? I was supposed to write my thoughts on smoking every day like a journal. I’ll try to get back on track now.

I went to see my dentist on day eight for my annual checkup and teeth cleaning. As usual, both the dentist and the hygienist said that my gums are receding due to smoking. As usual, that remark went in one and out the other. My dad quit smoking many years ago, and his gums continue to recede; so I figure it runs in the family.

From day eight to today, I did not quit nor did I wean. I smoked at will and thoroughly enjoyed my cigarettes. In writing this book, I have discovered the joy of smoking all over again. In fact, I have determined that all those antismoking commercials have been brainwashing me in a way that takes the fun out of smoking. Prior to the onslaught of antismoking ads, I smoked at will without worry. And that is exactly how I smoked these past five days.

What have I learned this week? The only way I shall ever quit smoking is if I decide to forgo the pleasure it gives me, which would probably make me feel like a martyr, like I was doing something noble and noteworthy. I would revel in my martyrdom, thinking that I had quit smoking for the betterment of this world and that my example should convince every smoker to quit. Eventually I would be canonized, “Saint Janet, the Cigarette Martyr.”  Smokers everywhere would pray to me for guidance and strength and the willpower necessary to quit poisoning their bodies by partaking of the evil weed.

Why did God put tobacco on this planet? What higher purpose was it supposed to serve? I’ve always thought that since tobacco is a natural substance on this planet, I have every right and reason to smoke it.  (Then I think: Did God intend for us to take this plant, dry it out, turn it into little sticks, light it up and inhale at will?) 

What higher purpose does tobacco serve? I've named one. It improves the cognitive functions of schizophrenics. That is definite, proven. So I do believe that tobacco exists for medicinal reasons. Maybe those of us who smoke, and can’t quit, need the tobacco for some unknown medicinal purpose. Maybe we are self-medicating in a positive way to achieve a positive end result. Maybe Janet is trying very hard to convince herself that smoking is a good and healthy habit.

It is time to address the advertising aspects of cigarettes—the packaging. Here in Canada our cigarette packages are now emblazoned with photographs of cancerous lungs and mouths, statistics on smoking-related deaths, a picture of a man coughing due to emphysema . . . And how has this new antismoking campaign affected me? I bought a beautiful silver cigarette case. I remarked to a friend that my silver case almost makes it look like smoking is a good—acceptable—habit.

Is the new packaging having any positive results? I don’t know. I did hear a report that teenagers are swapping photos from the packages to collect the series. They enjoy the gross-out factor. Everywhere I look, I still see young people smoking, same as always. Social smoking has been around for centuries now. Centuries! The antismoking clan is vying with centuries of cigarette smoking and therefore should not expect overnight results. 

I think, therefore I smoke. I thoroughly believe that nicotine is directly linked to my creativity—that it stimulates the brain’s creative capacity. Gotta go now. My guitar beckons.