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Harry gives up the weed
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Ray King column
Kevin Keegan takes over. "We all eagerly await" |
Confessions of an English tobacco addict*
My name is Harry and I am an addict. At the age of 74, with an addiction that has lasted for six decades, I really ought to know better.
My drug of choice is tobacco, or rather, tobacco with the carefully selected additives chosen by health-conscious manufacturers and their scientific advisers.
In 1947, at the age of 14, I first savoured the delights of cigarette smoking that I’d seen so often in buses, trains, shops and other workplaces, on the streets, but especially on the silver screen. I’d seen local footballers revive themselves at half time with a slice of orange and a swiftly-smoked Woodbine. Cork tips were known but rarely used. Like condoms, they weren’t for real men.
My progress as a cigarette smoker continued through a range of products: Players, Capstan (even Capstan Full Strength, heaven forfend!) Passing Cloud, Balkan Sobranie (including the multi-coloured version known as Cocktail cigarettes) were only some of the noxious mix.
During National Service and very low pay, I descended to rolling my own and Ansties Black Beauty. In a Canadian gold mine I rolled up neat cylinders of stuff that could be used as fumigation for lice. A Sherlock Holmes phase brought pipe, slippers and a variety of smoking mixtures. Admittedly, the mixtures were all tobacco products.
During 30 years of teaching, 35 years of running and 40 years of playing tennis, my addiction continued. I smoked mainly in the evening, and never in front of kids if I could help it. In fact, for decades now I’ve only smoked in the evening (something Freudian here), with B and H as my brand of choice.
I’ve always known that my addiction is dangerous, unhealthy for others and pretty damned SILLY! I’ve ‘given up’ many times, and reneged an equal number of times. A week ago, I got a cold and my sniffles drove me away from the noxious weed. I could no more face a cigarette than play football for England.
The next few days, weeks, months will be interesting. Anybody care to join me?
* With apologies to Thomas de Quincey and his “Confessions of an English Opium Eater”
Harry McQuillen
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