When I think of the so many things I did in my life out of ignorance and reckless behavior, I don't blush but stll feel bad. The worst, coming up to this number one as years have gone by was smoking tobacco. First, because it damaged my health. Second, it exposed others to health damages.
I started smoking like most youngsters do. A casual cigarette while going over chem notes with a student I admired who smoked Benson and Hedges, an imported brand. Is it coincidence I wheeze at the recollection? In 1969 we could smoke at school , a bizarre concept, I know.
My father was a heavy smoker, and so was my Russian-American grandma. I had hated cigarettes until I began to like them and then not to be able to live without them. For I wouldn't go to bed without smoking a last one. i wouldn't go to bed knowing I had run out of them. I couldn't engage in serious thinking without lighting one. Actually, without wanting to defend tobacco use, I must tell you cigarettes do enhance thinking skills, which might be why people with mental illnesses light up or students cramming light up.
Mark Twain lived a long life trying to quit. I finally quit on February 22, 2006, after many times having quit. February 22 was my grandma's birthday. The thought of having to carry oxygen with me finally sank in. I am at a point iwhere I can't go out and be exposed to smoke and pollutants. Whn that happens I get a dry cough. No, I don't know what it means.
When I was a teacher of English as a foreign language in Brazil, I smoked in class. And I did it at USC, too. Until very recently I didn't believe in second-hand smoking damage. (Every time I use italics in a sentence I remember Poe's emphasis when telling his madman stories.)
I follow with a lot of interest Nora Volkow's research on neurotransmitters and addiction. She hopes to find a cure for addiction based on their behavior. I do, too. Addiction is a malady. Let's hope the USA government changes its policies regarding addiction from punishment to treatment. That would be a nice thought to entertain while puffing on a cig. Did I say that? Ooops!
The title of this post is a remembrance of sorts of the secretary of the last school I worked at, in which the secretary would kinda sing, "el viiicio!" every time I passed by her to go outside to smoke.
mmeorabilia straight out of the fifties. !El viiiicio!