Read time: 5 min.

Out of a lifetime of bad decisions, probably the worst one I ever made was to start smoking fifteen years ago. Smoking sucks! Fortunately, I think I’ve come to the end of the era. As I write this, I’m trying to suck down my last pack of cigarettes while on vacation in Tennessee.

By all accounts, I probably shouldn’t have ended up a cigarette smoker. My dad and stepmom both lit up inside, and no matter how hard they tried to contain it, the house always reeked. The place was thick with the sharp, stale haze from Misty Light 120s, and it stung my eyes. It clung to my clothes. At times, it felt difficult to breathe.

Dad also smoked a pipe, though, and that was different: aside from the pleasing aroma, there was something about the ritual -tamping the tobacco, guiding the flame through its false light, and the hour or so of bookish contemplation- that pulled me in. When I turned eighteen, Dad welcomed me into the club with a match, a tin of Carter Hall, and a set of hand-me-down pipes all my own. 

Smoking a pipe isn’t anything like tearing through a pack of cigarettes. Ask ten people, and nine will tell you it smells better, for starters. The aromatic blends I smoked, like Boswell Christmas Cookie, Bear Blend, and Piper’s Pleasure, even tasted great! Unfortunately, pipes take time. Even the tiniest ones, like my little Turkish meerschaum, needed patience, and patience was hard to come by in five minutes behind the Subway where I worked. 

One day, though, my friend Ashley came out back with a pack of American Spirit Blacks from the Low Bob’s down the way. A few days after that, I found out one of my best friends swore by Camel Turkish Silvers. I bummed one of each and, just like that, I was a cigarette smoker. 

I really liked those American Spirit Blacks. They were made with perique, a distinctive type of spicy tobacco grown in St. James Parish, Louisiana, that sometimes made it into my grandpa’s old “Floor Sweepings” blend I used to get at Riegel’s Pipe and Tobacco. Unfortunately, American Spirits cost something exorbitant: $7 a pack! No amount of low-rent ramen, hot dogs, and frozen pizza could fit those into my budget with regularity, so I stuck with the Camels. 

After my dad died in 2011, I put the pipe down for a long time. I still smoked, but I started chasing cigarettes instead. Over the years, I cycled through almost every brand on the shelf.

I started with the ultra-light Camel Turkish Silvers, then stepped up to Camel Blue 99s and the extra-wide versions after that. There was a brief dalliance with Newport Reds when they were $4 a pack, but then Marlboro launched their “Special Blend” Light 100s with a can’t-miss introductory price. I jumped ship. 

Prices climbed, of course. When Marlboros got too steep, I dropped down a tier to Eagle 20 Blue 100s at just $3.32 a pack. Those rose too, eventually, and I ended up on Lucky Strike Gold 100s that hovered around $5.18. Each switch came with the math of addiction: what’s the most smoke I can get for the least money? 

The Luckies tasted and smoked better than all the other budget brands, so I stuck with them. That is, until two years ago, when surgery for an umbilical hernia changed everything. After the operation, the softball-sized hole where my belly button used to be just wouldn’t heal. Weeks went by with little progress until my surgeon leveled with me. “You’ve got to quit smoking,” he said, “at least for now. Switch to a vape if you have to.” 

Vapes were probably nearly as bad, he implored, but they also probably didn’t come with all the carcinogens and byproducts of combustion. I made the switch and, just like that, the healing kicked in. I got hooked on disposable vapes with weird names like Mr. Fog and Geek Bar. They kept me off the cigarettes, but then they ran out. Just like that, I was back to the cancer sticks. 

Lately, a few things have pushed me back toward the vape. First off, most of my friends have ditched cigarettes for good. Second, I’ve developed an occasional smoker’s hack that sounds like I’m auditioning for a tuberculosis documentary. Third was a brutal new state tax that turned cigarettes into luxury items. Fourteen bucks for a pack of Marlboros or eight for my trusty Lucky Strikes is unsustainable! Smokes from Kentucky or Tennessee aren’t exactly cheap, either, and neither are trips down there.

I haven’t really smoked a pipe since my surgery, but a couple of days ago, I did something I’ve done a hundred times before- I bought two more packs of Lucky Strikes. It wasn’t because I needed them right away, but so I could stash them away for emergencies. The idea of being without cigarettes still makes me anxious, but this time, I also grabbed two disposable vapes- Mr. Fogs in the Rainbow SKT and Watermelon Bubble Gang Ice flavors. Once the Luckies are gone, I don’t plan on buying another pack. If I can hold the line this time, it’ll be the first time in fifteen years I’ve gone without keeping a pack of cigarettes within arm’s reach.

Quitting something that’s been part of your life for so long isn’t easy. Cigarettes were always there, through stress, boredom, celebration, depression, and grief. Along with Diet Mountain Dew and artesian spring water, they’ve helped fuel this blog! I’m not pretending a vape is some kind of perfect solution, but they’re a step toward breaking free. Here’s to the end of an era! 

At least, I hope it will be. I’m trying!