March 19, 2002
From the desk of Jane Galt:Stephen Green, a.k.a. the Vodkapundit,
Stephen Green, a.k.a. the Vodkapundit, has a moving tribute to the smokes of yesteryear on the occasion of Hawkgirl's decision to quit.
I miss that first morning smoke with a hot cup of coffee. That Camel after a big dinner, when there's still some Cabernet left in the glass. And did I mention those after-sex cigarettes? Do you know what non-smokers do after sex? We lay there and cuddle. Let me tell you, that is not all it's cracked up to be.
I think the hardest thing about quitting smoking was not the nicotine withdrawal (no more painful than a middling tough diet) -- it's that most of the best things that ever happened to me happened when I had a cigarette in my hand. It's not any particular time of day that I miss smoking, it's the moments: the perfect evening dress, waiting on a windy evening in autumn with your coat wrapped tight around you, and most of all the end of a hot summer afternoon as day trickles into dusk . . . they have lost some of their luster without that little piece of fire cupped in your hand. It's been three years since I had a cigarette and I still can't pass a certain kind of stoop on a certain kind of street without thinking, God, I'd like to stop there and smoke awhile.
It's a hard thing to quit after ten years. When you stop, you're not just bidding farewell to contemptuous sniffs and a dry hack; you're letting go of that Dash-and-Lilly claim on immortality. So before you quit, Emily, have a smoke for us. And for all those who have reluctantly relinquished their favorite vices, or perhaps didn't give vice enough of a chance, I hereby command you to go and read this most excellent book. It's a compilation of works by a number of damn fine writers, including Mark Twain, Charles Bukowski, Henry Miller, Vladimir Nabokov, Spalding Gray, and Dorothy Parker, that offers tribute to the peccadilloes we regret.
