Op-ed column: Kicking the habit? How about smoking till you can’t stand it

New Year’s Day is the day many people make resolutions: to diet, to learn another language, to give up smoking, . . . but most people break their resolutions shortly after. I stopped smoking, but it wasn’t on New Year’s Day.

I started smoking when I was in high school. At that time, there was no warning from the surgeon general on a pack of cigarettes that said “smoking is dangerous to your health,” and we went merrily on our way smoking on buses, in school bathrooms, on street corners — in other words, everywhere. It was “stylish” to smoke, and the sooner you started, the better. Of course, it took some doing before you got used to inhaling that noxious smoke into your lungs, but after a while you were accustomed to it. And there were no restrictions as to where you could smoke; the world was a smoker’s paradise, and almost everybody did it.

Everybody smoked when they drank, too. It seemed impossible to have a drink in your hand without having a cigarette there, too. It was hard to do when hors d’oeuvres were being passed, but we managed. There wasn’t a thing you could do without smoking.

Taking a break

A neighbor of mine told me that he didn’t smoke until he went into the Army and saw that his buddies got a “smoke break” every morning and afternoon, but he got none because he didn’t smoke. So he took up smoking in order to get a break like the others. Apparently, the sergeant whose power it was to grant breaks wasn’t bright enough to understand that even those who don’t smoke deserve a break from their work.

I finally quit, but it wasn’t by means of the patch, hypnotism, or any such method prescribed by those gurus you keep hearing on television. I organized a committee to plan a 30th reunion for our high school graduating class of 1952. We had it in the fall of 1982 and I had a party for the committee at my house in January 1983. I partied hearty, as they say, eating, smoking and drinking until the last guest left. When I awoke the next morning, I had a terrible taste in my mouth — I realized I had smoked the better part of four or five packs of cigarettes the previous night and the cigarettes left their taste in my mouth more than ever before.

That awful taste persisted all that day, keeping me from smoking, and when I woke up the next day, I was still suffering from the distaste of tobacco from the day before, so I didn’t smoke for another day. The next day I decided to quit altogether, and although I have bummed a cigarette occasionally since then to test my taste for nicotine-flavored products, I have essentially been off the weed ever since that party in 1983. And it wasn’t long after that, I realized how offensive the smell of smoke was to nonsmokers.

Radical but effective

For my wife, it was a much harder task; she suffered withdrawal pangs for months after she finally quit. I felt her pain, but I never fully appreciated it.

So that’s my story. I never would have started smoking if I had been born later or wasn’t so concerned about being like the rest of the crowd. We saw movies where smoking looked glamorous or romantic, like the one with Paul Muni lighting two cigarettes, one for himself and one for Bette Davis. I don’t recall any scenes in movies of toothless people or unattractive people smoking. Such pictures would not have been allowed, as they would have spoiled the glamorous images.

I don’t necessarily recommend my method of quitting, but it is one of many that can do the job. And if you have tried the others and they don’t work, there is no reason not to try mine. Of course, it will cost you $25 or $30, but what’s that to the cost of a lifetime of smoking?

K.C. Halloran lives in Melrose. The Gazette encourages readers to submit material on local issues for the Sunday Opinion section.