Bad Habits
About 15 years ago, a good friend of mine laughingly accused me of smoking out of defiance because the habit is viewed so negatively by the bulk of American Society. At least at the time, I suspect there was some truth to her claim. After all, I grew up around smoking–my parents, grandparents, and most aunts and uncles all smoked. What right did anyone have to tell me not to smoke!
Family Smoke Signals
When my brother married, his spouse wouldn’t tolerate being around smoking–or around our family because we smoked. She was allergic to tobacco smoke. I had horrendous allergies, particularly as a child, and had also tested positive for allergy to tobacco smoke–and I smoked. As a result, I was less than understanding of my sister-in-law’s extreme position. Heck, I could handle it, so she could too.
The day my younger brother got his Master’s Degree, my parents rented a large suite with a kitchen and lots of comfy seating for a celebration. Food was catered and all generations were having a great time. And almost everyone was smoking.
As the evening progressed , the smoke became a San Francisco fog to which most everyone was oblivious. Finally, my brother, a non-smoker, asked if I could do something.
I opened windows and doors and asked people I knew well if they could please not smoke in the suite any longer. (Imagine me asking people not to smoke!) The die-hard smokers pretty much ignored me.
I can remember looking into that suite at the bank of smoke. Yecch!
Mother
I’ve mentioned many times that Mother was a heavy smoker. She’s the only person I’ve ever known who carried an ashtray in her purse. It looked like a dollhouse-size silent butler that the manservant would empty ashtrays into as he tidied the manor house.
Being obsessively fastidious, Mother wouldn’t dream of leaving cigarette butts around. At home, she carried around a little red ashtray shaped like a frying pan. This went from room to room with her so other ashtrays wouldn’t be soiled unnecessarily.
Funny, I don’t ever remember Mother smelling like smoke–just Shalimar.
