photo: MrGluSniffer/ BY

A week and a half ago, I had an opportunity to try something that I have never really been anxious to do before: smoke my first and what probably will be my last cigarette-and-a-half. The experience definitely was nothing to have a street parade for, and I still firmly believe that smoking frequently is harmful to one's health. Besides, research conclusively has shown us why smokers can’t stop: because nicotine is an addictive substance. Still, it’s intriguing to me that, given what we know now, every American kid hasn't completely avoided those “death sticks.” Until recently, marketing had a lot to do with it. I can still remember the advertisements with the animated Joe Camel for Camel cigarettes when I was a little girl and watched the news as a nationwide uproar and court battles led to the removal of the character from billboards and magazines. And now, finally, after years of floating around in Congress, an anti-smoking bill severely restricting the marketing of cigarettes to youth has finally been signed into law by President Obama.

Until my recent indiscretion I wondered what first-time smokers found so exhilarating in huffing and puffing, and, to be honest, I didn’t get that famed rush or enveloping calm that smokers claim they experience. Perhaps it was because I didn’t take deep inhalations; much of the time, I just let the darned thing burn. When the cigarette paper started to burn closer to my fingers, I kept tapping the cigarette awkwardly against my friend’s kitchen sink, so that I wouldn’t burn myself. It’s funny that when I was a little girl, I used to be fascinated by the way the cigarette paper would recede into my older relatives’ fingertips. But I still would wonder, “Why do they love cigarettes so much?” Now, having felt the effects for myself, I still ask myself the same question.
Cigarettes have so long been a part of American culture, depicting different groups in the country’s population. The advertisements have represented every type of person: Marlboro’s brawny cowboy; Virginia Slim’s empowered, yet demure, feminist; and Salem’s fun and lively party guy. Not surprisingly, then, given such marketing tactics, most of my older relatives began smoking around the ages of ten to fifteen, and of course, their slightly older friends were their daily nicotine suppliers. Twenty to thirty years later, it was still the same old thing: they began the day with a cigarette, and smoked another cigarette on their way to bed (not even counting the number of packs smoked in between their first and last).
Some may argue that marketing and the education countering such advertisements don’t matter. But I think the assemblies I attended in elementary school that talked about the dangers of cigarettes and why young children should stay away from them helped me a lot. A number of my relatives used to smoke 2 and 3 packs of cigarettes a day when I was in elementary school. I was able to convince a strong few to quit the nasty habit, except for one person: a relative that ended up halting their smoking because of serious health problems. But that person was an education in herself. After having to use four inhalers and nearly ending up in the hospital as a result of the laryngitis, that family member never touched another cigarette again, after more than 50 years of smoking.

And seeing her suffer, I have no interest in becoming a full-time smoker. I think that I want to stop while I’m ahead; I don’t even want to risk smoking another cigarette for fear that the second cigarette will lead to another, and another, and another. And with skyrocketing cigarette taxes the norm now, I'd rather not burn a hole in my pocketbook. Not only that, have you ever had a strong gust of wind push the scent of a Marlboro cigarette back into your nose? Not pretty!