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My co-worker came in smelling like my grandfather, the mix of cologne and male and cigarette smoke. Mostly the latter, I'm sure. Sometimes the smell of village thrift store smells like him and the enclosed back area of my old apartment was reminiscent of his screened in porch, though I could never quite put my finger on why. Probably something to do with the mix of wood and must.
As a child, I detested how many of my family members smoked and my inability to breathe in their presence and how I could wash all the clothes in my suitcase and they would smell fresh and clean but then I'd pack them and cart them home where I'd open the case to find the fibers reeked of stale tobacco, with no trace of detergent in the scent.
Nowadays any number of memories or associations can be triggered by cigarettes. I can feel comforted, turned on, indulgent, nauseous, familiar, or disgusted. Sometimes in a bar, as soon as I'm done with my own smoke, I can't stand to be next to someone else who's still blowing. Sometimes I enter someone's home and enjoy the simmer of tobacco that permeates their furniture, but I'm happy my own home doesn't have it. I like how it smells on my coat but not my clothes. Heavy clothing seems to work better in absorbing and distributing without just straight up reeking.
It's a dirty nasty filthy habit. Most habits inherently are, by their very nature, and I would like to avoid them all, even the good ones. I would prefer if all my actions were extremely intentional and I was present for them, even when I'm just brushing my teeth. But it fascinates me. As most habits and cultural phenomenons do. I don't think writing about smoking romanticizes it. In fact, I think our tendency to be dismissive without analysis or examination hurts any efforts to eliminate it from our existence, if that's even possible, since it's been around for centuries. I wonder if it could ever go away anymore than alcohol could.
As a kid I swore I'd never even try a cigarette as an adult. I also swore I'd never drink coffee. And I think I even considered waiting until marriage for sex or the age of 30, whichever came first. Not that sex is really in the same category mild mood-altering addictive drugs, but it's just amusing to me how perceptions of adulthood change.
As a child, I detested how many of my family members smoked and my inability to breathe in their presence and how I could wash all the clothes in my suitcase and they would smell fresh and clean but then I'd pack them and cart them home where I'd open the case to find the fibers reeked of stale tobacco, with no trace of detergent in the scent.
Nowadays any number of memories or associations can be triggered by cigarettes. I can feel comforted, turned on, indulgent, nauseous, familiar, or disgusted. Sometimes in a bar, as soon as I'm done with my own smoke, I can't stand to be next to someone else who's still blowing. Sometimes I enter someone's home and enjoy the simmer of tobacco that permeates their furniture, but I'm happy my own home doesn't have it. I like how it smells on my coat but not my clothes. Heavy clothing seems to work better in absorbing and distributing without just straight up reeking.
It's a dirty nasty filthy habit. Most habits inherently are, by their very nature, and I would like to avoid them all, even the good ones. I would prefer if all my actions were extremely intentional and I was present for them, even when I'm just brushing my teeth. But it fascinates me. As most habits and cultural phenomenons do. I don't think writing about smoking romanticizes it. In fact, I think our tendency to be dismissive without analysis or examination hurts any efforts to eliminate it from our existence, if that's even possible, since it's been around for centuries. I wonder if it could ever go away anymore than alcohol could.
As a kid I swore I'd never even try a cigarette as an adult. I also swore I'd never drink coffee. And I think I even considered waiting until marriage for sex or the age of 30, whichever came first. Not that sex is really in the same category mild mood-altering addictive drugs, but it's just amusing to me how perceptions of adulthood change.
