Holy Smoke

Humans like smoke, there’s no denying it. From the production of food to the performance of ceremony, smoke pervades nearly every aspect of our lives. Carbon is produced on a daily basis, that serves no other purpose than to smell good or taste good. In fact, I’m burning incense as I type. Not because it helps me type, but because I like the smell. It’s amazing that we still allow it, what with all the hue and cry about carbon emissions. But carbon based carcinogens are tasty, so don’t expect us to give them up anytime soon.

But given the relationship that humans have had with smoke over the millennia, especially when you consider the flavoursome aspects smoke can bring to a meal, I ask you, is it any wonder that Raleigh decided to roll up a leaf, stick it in his gob, light it and puff on it? I think not! And kudos to the man for doing so!

Yes, I smoke and I enjoy it. The funny thing about smoking though, is that although I enjoy a product that’s perfectly legal and sold in every milk bar and convenience store across this country, I’ve become a pariah in my own society, the modern day equivalent of a leper. I’m relegated to the back alley where I must join my fellow lepers to puff away in blissful denial of the dangers of our actions while we complain vociferously about new legislation that ostracises us even further.

Oh for the halcyon days. You know, there was a time that I could smoke inside a moving train, not just on the uncovered section of the station platform. We even had “smoking” and “non-smoking” carriages. On the old “W” class trams, the bit in the middle that was open to the weather was the smoking section, restaurants had ashtrays on the tables and every bar in every pub had a foot rail and ashtray that ran the full length of the bar and I could smoke with impunity. Bliss…

We had ads too. Who could forget “Join the Escort club” or “Marlborough Country” or “Anyhow, ‘ave a Winfield”, classics all of them. The cricket was sponsored by Benson and Hedges, the sailing by Rothmans while Marlborough took care of the cars. It was a smokers paradise that knew no bounds.

But no longer… Over time, the companies have been legislated out of advertising spaces, the smokers into the dark and uncomfortable places that society sees fit to provide, rather than just make the product itself illegal and be done with it. But that won’t happen because about 70% of the price of a packet of cigarettes is tax. Consequently, the government (any government) wants for me to smoke and for you, dear non-smoker, to suffer mercilessly because of it.

So if you are a non-smoker and happen to be languishing in a “smoking” area (say the uncovered part of a station platform) when I light up, don’t complain. Instead, remember who’s idea it was that I should only be allowed to smoke where you’re waiting for your train and suck it up like a good little princess.