Smoke

Maybe it’s a false memory, but I remember when I was six years old, my dad decided to impress the socks off of me by showing me a trick. What he did was he inhaled a cigarette, and then somehow blew smoke rings out of his small nostrils.

I think it was then that I realized I would never pry this man away from his obvious talent and passion: cigarette smoking.

My dad smoked so much while I was growing up that I pretty much always just picture him with an eternal halo of smoke above his head. Smoking, it’s all I ever saw him do. Taking a shit, mowing the lawn, doing his taxes. Having a bowl of cereal. It didn’t matter where or when or why. As far as I was concerned, my dad smoked while taking a shower. I figured he even went to bed with the butt of a Marlboro Lights 100 sticking out of his mouth.

I’ve always hated my dad’s smoking but for some reason, I could never bring myself to tell him to quit. In fact, I supported his addiction. Every Christmas present he ever got from me since I turned 18 was a box of Camels. For Father’s Day, it would be cigarette lighters. For his birthday, he’d untangle the ribbon from his box to find a brand new glass ashtray.

My mom and sister have always thought this was totally bizarre and illogical behavior on my part, to continue to encourage him even though I hate it so much. My only explanation to them was that I’ve always done it with sort of a wink. As if, when I’m giving him that box of cigarettes, I’m saying, These aren’t very good for you, but I want you to be happy, so just go ahead and indulge yourself, Dad.

And ultimately, I think that’s what love is: sometimes allowing that person to be weak and imperfect and human.

Tonight, however, tonight I felt a little different. I decided to have a little talk with him about it. I said, “Dad, you know, if you use a combination of nicotine patches and the gum, it can really make a difference in helping you beat your addiction. ”

I ignored the glare my dad gave me and said, “You know, the reason I say all this is because Peter Jennings just passed away from lung cancer. He was 67. ”

“That’s old, ” my dad said, balancing a cigarette between his fingers.

And I said, “Not old enough. Don’t you want to live to be 100? ”

My dad replied by blowing a round puff of smoke into my face. Then he said, “Jennings, not even that good. Brokaw, good. Koppel, very good. Rather, liberal son of bitch! HE LIE ABOUT BUSH! Jennings not as poor as Rather, but I still dislike. ”

“C’mon Dad, be serious here. Now I’m telling you, if you don’t cut down on your smoking, you’re going to most likely get either lung cancer or emphysema.”

“What is emphy... emph... emphys... What that word mean? What happen when you get it?”

“It means, dad, that after years of smoking your testicles start to develop ingrown hairs, which have the potential to bleed or become infected to the point of unrecognition. That’s of course, right after your urethra painfully spits out kidney stone after the kidney stone the size of golf balls. Accordingly, the lips on your mouth will have rapidly growing rashes which eventually degenerate into white puss. You will experience several emphysemic episodes a day... you know, like violent seizures where your eyeballs roll helplessly to the back of your rotting head and your tongue is in danger of being swallowed. These emphysemic episodes are followed by aftershocks, which consist of you losing all control of your bowels. And when I say bowels, I mean dirty, wet, yellow diarrhea. After that, your nipples will explode and your skin will start to decay. Most likely by the later stages of emphysema, all four of your limbs will have to be amputated, but since the emphysema causes considerable damage to your body chemistry, you will not be allowed any anesthesia at all, which means you will be awake while the trusted surgeons cut you with a chainsaw. Your eyeballs will turn yellow and ultimately deflate and become useless. Blisters will appear all over the gums of your teeth, but those can be easily punctured with a sharp enough scalpel. However there will in fact be some preventative measures taken, so that the emphysema doesn’t take over your whole body too quickly. Maggots will be introduced into your anus so that any fecal residue is eliminated. Additionally, someone will have to stick a shishkabob skewer into your left nostril in order to stimulate brain activity. This will only work for a couple years, however, because you will most certainly die a regrettably painful death.”

My dad put out his cigarette.