Plucky Letters to US soldiers in Iraq

Saturday, February 4, 2006

Dear Army Guys,

I apologize in advance if this ends up being somewhat less than inspiring, but I am a little distracted by the very real possibility that I might run out of cigarettes before I’m tired enough to go to bed. That would be a small catastrophe.

I’ve already taken a bath and put on my comfy pajamas and so I don’t really want to go through all the getting dressed again and going out in the cold, dark night to buy new cigarettes hassle. However, I may be driven to do so by addiction, which in my opinion should be evidence enough that I deserve an insurance-funded 28 day vacation in a nicotine rehab program where I will be allowed to talk about my “issues” and feel sorry for myself 24/7.

If cigarettes were illegal (and therefore non-taxable) I would be allowed to whine about my “disease” on the Oprah Winfrey show and people would line up to give me a high-five and a group hug. If tobacco addicts were afforded the same compassionate psycho-babbly coddling given to crack whores and meth-mouthed rednecks, I would be encouraged to call myself a “survivor” and my fellow taxpayers would cheerfully hand over their hard-earned dollars to keep my cheeks stuffed with government-funded Nicorette gum. Instead, I and my fellow tobacco addicts are socially shunned and subjected to outlandish sin tax schemes that make the Boston Tea Party seem churlishly unreasonable.

The smokers of America generously provide an enormous amount of tax revenue to local, state and federal greedy people. And we are model citizens. Despite what you may have been led to believe, we are not a costly burden on society. Far be it from us to retire healthy and then hang around for forty years picking the pockets of younger generations. No sir, we smokers do our civic duty and die on time.

There is a brouhaha going on right here in Bloomington-Normal regarding a proposed ban on smoking in restaurants and bars. Personally I don’t really care one way or the other, since I hardly ever smoke in restaurants and I rarely find myself in a bar these days. Perhaps this is hypocritical, but I don’t like it when people are allowed to smoke while I’m eating.

Smoking sections in restaurants just don’t work for me. They’ve got the concept all wrong- they’re totally disorganized. In the civilized smoking section of my imaginings nobody would be allowed to smoke until everyone finished eating. This could easily be accomplished by switching on a NO SMOKING signal light every thirty minutes or so to allow new arrivals time to enjoy their meals. Diners would be reminded to watch for the signal and to then wave their menus around in an effort to both clear the air and alert their less observant fellow customers.

As for concern about the unhealthy effects of second-hand smoke on employees, I’ve got a simple solution for that too. Smoking restaurants should employ only smokers. I’ve even thought of a catchy slogan managers could post in the employee break room:
IF YOU QUIT, YOU’RE FIRED.

As for bars, I so rarely frequent them I don’t care if people smoke in them or not.
I see both sides of the issue and, if pressed to give an opinion, I think the smoking/non-smoking decision is best left to the proprietor of the business. I can appreciate that non-smokers don’t like cigarette smoke or its lingering effects. After all, I could stand in a roomful of guzzling alcoholics for hours on end and I would not smell like booze when I walked out of the place unless somebody spilled something on me. Stand in a smoky bar for an hour and your clothing will smell smoky for a while afterward, no doubt about it.

My non-smoking friends who otherwise enjoy spending time in bars often complain of having to shampoo their hair and wash their clothing. I’d like to ask them if they wouldn’t be doing that anyway but, as a member of a reviled minority, I’m trying to keep a low profile.

Still, there is something comical about these righteous non-smoking bar patrons. I don’t think they have any idea how ridiculous they seem to people who don’t find bars (or the people who frequent them) socially stimulating. They’re saying that their desire is to publicly intoxicate themselves in a place designated for just such an obnoxious purpose, which intoxication is quite likely to be followed by illegal operation of a motor vehicle. And, damn it, they want to be able to do this without getting dirty.

I find that funny in an “Only in America” sort of way.

I guess I’d better get to bed now. I need to get up early to wash my hair, launder my clothing, and go buy a pack of fags. Speaking of which, it’s been said that French people smoke like mad and rarely bathe. Pardonnez-moi ami puant, vous s'avèrent justement avoir une cigarette ?*

Much Love,

--An Army Mom in Paris

*Hey Stinky, can I bum a smoke?