Breakfast Buzz: My smoking breakup letter

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 21/01/2012 (5189 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Today is the final day of National Non-Smoking Week in Westman. The theme this year is “Breaking up is hard to do”.

Experts say it takes the average smoker eight to 10 times before he is able to quit successfully.

A recent survey focused on just how damaging a smoking habit can be on a romantic relationship. Thirteen per cent of smokers said the side effects of smoking, like bad breath and yellow teeth, had prevented them from kissing someone they love. Nine per cent of men admit smoking stops them being affectionate with their children.

Ten per cent of smokers tend to back away from coworkers. Fifteen per cent of smokers said they were more concerned about having smelly clothes compared to bad breath (eight per cent), yellow teeth (nine per cent) and gum disease (five per cent).

A third of respondents don’t want any advice when it comes to quitting and would rather use their own willpower. Seven per cent said they’d turn to family and friends for support. Five per cent would try nicotine gum or the patch.

The lung association has a creative way to encourage people to quit smoking, since nearly all smokers “love” their cigarettes. The association has asked smokers to consider “breaking up” with their smokes.

If your New Year’s resolution was to quit smoking and you’ve been successful so far, way to go! I recommend posting your “break-up letter” on the Manitoba Lung Association Facebook page, telling your cigarettes why you have to end the relationship. A $50 gift card will be awarded for the best letter.

I didn’t enter the contest, but I did write a letter. I used to smoke — and smoke quite a bit. And while I smoked for almost 10 years, quitting it was one of the toughest things I’ve ever done. In fact it took me nearly half a dozen times, so if you fall off the wagon, don’t beat yourself up. The important thing is to celebrate your accomplishment, and then try again sooner rather than later.

Here’s my breakup letter to my smokes:

Dear Ms. Cig Garette,

Dearest Cig. I never did get a chance to say goodbye, so please accept this letter as my heartfelt explanation to why it just didn’t work for us.

I remember that cold day in September of 1991, you came into my life. I was young and an aspiring radio broadcaster. While I was the first to chastise those who you seduced in my high school days, college was different. I was a big kid now, and you were so sexy. Your companionship filled the gap of friends and family who were a province away, and you were soon with me everywhere.

I would enjoy your company with a cup of coffee, after a meal, after adult “fun time” and after a good meal. You would come to me with every party and would be the first thing I would reach for to begin another.

Later, I would marry, but you would be part of our marriage too. In fact, our marriage was the three of us. Tracy, me and you Cig. Oh how we would dance in open fields, lie in the sun together, and go everywhere with each other.

Life was great, but all this time you were secretly hurting me. You were taking my money and making me sick. This was not love, but addiction, and I needed you.

You did not need me. I remember in the mid ’90s, saying goodbye and saying we could not go on. You took it hard and kept showing up at parties, socials, barbecues and other events, but this time with friends. You’d flaunt your cheating ways as if to say “I could still have you” but I knew that could not last.

However, one night after too much celebration, I admit, I came running back to you if just for a short while. But once our children came, there was no room in the destructive bigamy that was my nicotine addiction. My choice was clear. If I wanted to see my young son grow to be a man, I could not continue my other flings with cheeseburgers, beer and you too and live to see 50.

I had to say goodbye to one of you, and since cheeseburgers smelled good, beer did not turn my teeth yellow and kicking you out of my life meant more money in my pocket, you had to hit the street kid.

Don’t cry Cig. We’ll always have the good times. Your effect as a natural laxative will not be forgotten. How you were with me at work every time I was stressed, shivering in the cold, will be memories I will treasure.

What’s that? You want to be friends?

Oh…no Cig, I’m sorry I don’t believe in FABU, or friends after breakup. You’ll be sad for a while, but life goes on. Spend some time with your friends “Chew”, or “Pipe”. Maybe call “Mary J”. Have you talked to her lately? Go to a movie. Maybe see Up in Smoke, or Holy Smoke, or watch some TV. Classic Gunsmoke is always good for some fun. Load your iPod with some tunes. You always liked Weezer, and Filter, and you should hear the remix of “Smokin’ in the boy’s room”.

You’ll land back on your feet, Cig. So this is goodbye. Please don’t send me pictures of the “little mini pack” anymore. It’s not mine. It doesn’t even look like me.

Don’t touch my kids, don’t come near me or my wife, and may you find another way to exist without destroying people’s lives and taking their money.

Yours, “breathing easy”

Tyler

PS: I always thought your butt was big.

Joke this Week

A young woman confides to a friend that she wants to quit smoking, but nothing she does seems to work.

"Have you tried the patch?" her friend asks.

"No, that’s one thing I haven’t tried," the woman says, "because I’m not sure it works."

Says her friend, "I’m sure it would if you put it over your mouth."