2008 Woodie Awards
Quitting smoking is a troublesome fiasco
Joel Koplin
Issue date: 9/24/07 Section: Opinions
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Someone once told me a good sign of insanity is when one repeatedly follows the same pattern of actions expecting to find a different outcome than all of the previous attempts have produced.
If there's any truth to this, then I might as well be locked in a padded cell far, far away from the normal, healthy members of society so I can do them no harm.
A consistent pursuit in the comedy of errors that is my life is the desire to quit smoking altogether. Completely. As in I never have another smoldering bit of cancery goodness hanging from my lips again in all the remaining years of my sentience.
I would like this to be permanent. I'm tired of having to be aware of how ludicrous it feels to be standing around in 90 degree heat with something burning a few inches from my face.
I'm tired of being afflicted with relatively uncomfortable chest colds, only to find myself outside every hour or so irritating my lungs even further by my compulsive desire for a cigarette.
I find it even more hilarious when I roll these thoughts around my head as I'm smoking, or - even better - having this conversation with fellow smokers as we're both sucking down cigarettes. It always goes something like this:
"Yeah, (examining cigarette and shaking head) I should really quit these things. I saw this video on TV of this jar that was filled with tar that they'd taken out of this guy's lungs. (Shaking head again, taking another deep drag off cigarette.) "It was crazy."
"Yeah. (Lighting new cigarette with butt of previous cigarette.) That sounds crazy."
"Yeah." (Opening new pack of cigarettes).
Now, I find myself to be a fairly intelligent person. I am attending college after all. I maintain a decent grade point average. I manage my daily duties of class, job and leisure. I have informed opinions on a number of topics that interest me.
I'm not a genius, but I'm not a moron either. I usually find myself to be a thoughtful and competent human being.
If there's any truth to this, then I might as well be locked in a padded cell far, far away from the normal, healthy members of society so I can do them no harm.
A consistent pursuit in the comedy of errors that is my life is the desire to quit smoking altogether. Completely. As in I never have another smoldering bit of cancery goodness hanging from my lips again in all the remaining years of my sentience.
I would like this to be permanent. I'm tired of having to be aware of how ludicrous it feels to be standing around in 90 degree heat with something burning a few inches from my face.
I'm tired of being afflicted with relatively uncomfortable chest colds, only to find myself outside every hour or so irritating my lungs even further by my compulsive desire for a cigarette.
I find it even more hilarious when I roll these thoughts around my head as I'm smoking, or - even better - having this conversation with fellow smokers as we're both sucking down cigarettes. It always goes something like this:
"Yeah, (examining cigarette and shaking head) I should really quit these things. I saw this video on TV of this jar that was filled with tar that they'd taken out of this guy's lungs. (Shaking head again, taking another deep drag off cigarette.) "It was crazy."
"Yeah. (Lighting new cigarette with butt of previous cigarette.) That sounds crazy."
"Yeah." (Opening new pack of cigarettes).
Now, I find myself to be a fairly intelligent person. I am attending college after all. I maintain a decent grade point average. I manage my daily duties of class, job and leisure. I have informed opinions on a number of topics that interest me.
I'm not a genius, but I'm not a moron either. I usually find myself to be a thoughtful and competent human being.