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2002-12-18 - 11:55 a.m. My dratted @#$%@& computer has been down for days - leaving me adrift in the world with no contact to you all! Oh how I have missed you! And you all got to miss my ranting and raving about the transit strike that wasn't (probably good that you missed that-it wasn't pretty) Here's what I've been pondering in the long days without a computer... In light of the soon to be enforced smoking ban in NYC I find myself torn between my former and future selves. You see, I stopped smoking about four years ago. . . but I have on occasion indulged in that horribly nasty habit. I guess you could call me a social smoker. . .but yet the last few times I tried to smoke I became ill so that I stopped practically where I started. Most ex-smokers are sensitive to the smell of smoke. I was, even before I quit. My sense of smell has always been absurdly acute. Once on a bus I commented to my friend that I thought I smelled coconut macaroons and this large man came running up from the back of the bus and shoved his hands under my nose. Then he told me that he was a baker and the last thing he made that day was macaroons. I�m not sure what freaked me out more - the fact that I could smell the remnants of dough from his hands or the fact that he ran up to tell me about it. Ultimately that was the reason I quit smoking; I just couldn�t stand to smell myself. (Yeah I admit it, I�m more vain than health conscious) So you can imagine how acute my sense of smell is now. I can no longer bear being in smoky bars. I leave feeling queasy and cannot resist the urge to shower upon arriving home even if its three AM. This is a good thing I suppose. It means that my body is ready to identify as a Non-Smoker. Now I�m left to wonder, �Is my mind as ready?� On the one hand, I feel sympathetic to my nicotine-addicted neighbors. It seems rather unfair that government will continue to allow the selling of tobacco products for economic reasons but then blame the smoker for using it, citing how much smoking costs Americans in terms of health care and pollution. Now they say, �You can buy cigarettes (and please do because the tax will help our deficit) you just can�t smoke them pretty much anywhere other than the privacy of your own home.� On the flip side, I know that I�m looking forward to going to the bar and the bingo hall (yes, I�m that lame) without reeking of smoke when I leave. Is that so wrong? Of course, I know its not but how come I feel guilty about it? I think I fear the dreaded reprisal that is heaped on those of my ilk: That I�ve become a rabid anti-smoker; this is the epitome of uncool in smoking circles. Now, I know that smoking is not really cool but let�s face it, isn�t that what all of us thought when we started? There was a certain thrill to it. It was my first foray into the world of adults. Plus you�ve got to admit they�ve got the swankiest accessories: lighters, cigarette cases, ashtrays, and those long cigarette holders from the golden age of Hollywood. Watch any film from the forties (particularly detective stories) and tell me that it wasn�t cool. Or the beatniks of the fifties smoking those little clove cigarettes while reciting their anti-establishment poetry. Think of the Marlboro Man - my second crush (my first was Jesus but that�s another story) Just look at how many celebrities still smoke despite all those warning labels and frightening factoids. (Quick poll to the Ex-smokers: Did you ever look for the warning label about low birth-weight because it didn�t apply to you?) Now more than ever, though, the tide is turning. Its no coincidence that California was one of the first states to ban smoking. The trend-setters of the world are inhaling less smoke and more oxygen. Some of the brightest stars of sports are eschewing chewing tobacco in favor of protein bars. So maybe the cooler kids are the ones not covered by the cloud of smoke. Besides that, I don�t ever want to be beholden to anything other than myself. I can still remember how my Mom would look when she got to the last pack in her carton of Kent Golden Lights. How she allowed me to cross the street by myself only to buy her morning pack. How she�d light one up from the butt of another. It wasn�t pretty; I�ve got the photos to prove it. While I was never that heavy a smoker myself there were still times when my fingers didn�t work fast enough to open that pack, when I couldn�t have a conversation on the phone or a drink at the bar without one. I certainly feel better now that I don�t indulge in that voracious vice. I can walk up stairs without getting winded, I don�t get as many colds in the winter, and most importantly, I don�t stink of stale smoke. So while I don�t want to smoke anymore I also don�t want to be one of those militant ex-smokers who starts up with the fake hacking cough as soon as someone lights up. Besides that, a number of my friends still smoke and while I hate how my apartment/car/hair smells after a visit with them, I still love, and want to spend time with, them. So what�s a (dare I say it?) Non-Smoking girl like me to do? Well, I guess I just made the first step: admitting that I�m a Non-Smoker. The rest should be cake, right. Open the windows, light the candles, buy an air filter and a smokeless ashtray to entertain my smoking friends at home and enjoy the new smoke-free environment of the neighborhood bars with the cool kids. Drink of the Day: Smoked Martini � 
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