Remember reading that in the early 1900s Coca-Cola contained actual cocaine? What a kick! Then came the public outcry about health risks, which ended that fun. Around the same time, babies were used as mannequins in department store windows, nicely drugged to keep them calm while they sat in their chairs, swinging contentedly. Later, came the allure of cigarettes: “Cigars, cigarettes, tiparillos” sang the long legged tobacco girl to her cosmopolitan male audience. Who could resist and why would anyone do so?
During World War II, American GIs were given cigarettes as part of their daily rations. It was thought that this would help them stay awake and alert for combat. What? I can't think of anything more likely to keep me awake than combat, but anyway, countless thousands of young American men came home from the war in the late 1940s with a heavy smoking habit well in place.
And just in time for the movie industry to perpetuate the cool-factor of cigarettes. Most important, the cigarette habit was legitimized, celebrated and glamorized on the Hollywood screen; transported to the rest of the world. Movie stars such as Edward G. Robinson, James Cagney, Spencer Tracy, Gary Cooper and especially Humphrey Bogart, raised the image of the cigarette to that of the iconic, ensuring it would never lose its sophisticated and loftily independent connotations. Movies and television shows often depicted men with cigarettes dangling from their lips as symbols of sangfroid and aplomb, further influencing public perception.
And then Marlene Dietrich arrived. She lit a cigarette without breaking a man’s stare, she had presence, glamor, elegance. Cigarettes were held delicately between her long manicured fingers. She wove an alluring mystery around smoke, the very air around her danced and bewitched mystically. We women watched, spellbound, speculating that the swirling smoke hid the real story that lived behind her hooded knowing eyes. This lady knew her way around the block and was not to be messed with. We wanted to be like her. Heck, we wanted to be her, but the best we could do was light up like her.
When Bette Davis said to Paul Henreid in Now Voyager “don’t let’s ask for the moon, we have the stars”; he suggests that they have a cigarette on their future. What could be more romantic than sharing a cigarette? The country yet again continued its love affair with cigarettes.
I never smoked during my teens, but when I finally left home and started on my world travels, I saw that everyone everywhere smoked cigarettes. All over the world, people smoked. Obviously, I should too. I began with a Gauloise; famously smoked by Pablo Picasso and, later, by Jim Morrison and John Lennon. Those cigarettes were short, wide, unfiltered, made with strong dark tobaccos from Syria and Turkey. They were sold and smoked everywhere. Puffing on my first Gauloise, my body couldn’t believe that I was trying to kill it. The strength of that tobacco almost knocked me out. I was light headed. I nearly fainted, but in short order I was a chain smoking libertine.
By the time I returned to ‘real life’, I was a virtuoso smoker, even possessed of a beautiful Swiss made gold plated lighter which I used with expert precision. I had lit up on five of the seven continents of the world; at sea level, from the alps to the desert, in trains, boats and airplanes, in every major capital. I could ask for a cigarette in more than half a dozen languages; no other words, just the word cigarette. Fortunately, but for an occasional ’s’ or a ‘z’ in lieu of the letter ‘c’ the rest of the word was pretty much universal. All I wanted each morning was a cigarette with my coffee. A few puffs from a cigarette to get the day started. The single defining gesture of the morning. I watched that blue flame flicker and as the smoke rose, the nicotine was absorbed into my lungs, the chemicals in my brain fired up, releasing endorphins before the day began. I was ready for the world. Today I have only coffee to accomplish the black and white version of that industrial kick.
Historically, the origin of tobacco use in North America is uncertain but tobacco clearly played a ceremonial and structured role. Tobacco was crucial in ritual and social ceremonies. Most famously, tobacco was used when agreements were made binding with the passing of the ubiquitous peace pipe (remember Broken Arrow or Little Big Man?). Tobacco as indigenous homeopathy was used as a cure for a toothache by the Iroquois, a remedy for earache by the central Mexicans, as a painkiller by the Cherokee and as an antiseptic in Guatemala.
It is likely those late 15th century sailors returning from the Americas to various ports in Europe brought the practice of smoking with them. By the mid-19th century, smoking had become an established ritual throughout their world. English novelists captured the paraphernalia of the smoking ritual—pipes, cleaners, holders, ashtrays, pouches, storage containers and lighters, as well as smoking jackets, club chairs and slippers—all of which, ideally, had to be collected in that sanctuary of manhood,“ the smoking room”. Cigarettes were originally sold as an expensive handmade luxury item for the urban elites of Europe. Then came the rolling Bonsack machine, the founding of the American Tobacco Company and the common man lit up.
The first half of the 20th century was the golden age of the cigarette. In 1950 around half of the population of industrialized countries smoked. Smoking was popular across all social classes and, increasingly, among women. This development had less to do with the efforts of advertisers and more to do with the impact of war and a direct confrontation with societal attitudes by so-called 'new age' women. Cigarettes were seen as a symbol of modernity and sophistication.
With post WWII came the television era in the US. Every family who could afford one watched as much TV as possible and most TV programs were sponsored, at least in part, by cigarette brands, reinforcing the idea that smoking was healthy, relaxing, refreshing, invigorating, cool, sexy, exciting and fun . . . just like TV! In the 1950s, popular cigarette brands included Camel, Lucky Strike, Chesterfield, and Philip Morris, all of which were unfiltered. “More doctors smoke Camel than any other cigarette”, “Winston takes good like a cigarette should” Then came the Marlboro Man. “Come to where the flavor is, come to Marlboro country”. My personal favorite: “Nico Time; the smooth taste more pregnant mothers crave.” Nothing more than the well placed slogan was required to cement the deal.
Then, alas, came firm evidence linking lung cancer with smoking. This information came as a considerable shock to smokers, who proved extremely reluctant to give up their habit. “Say it isn’t so, Joe.” We knew in our hearts that our smoking days were numbered. I, ignobly, milled around a small group of resolution makers one New Year’s Eve and, while listening to their lofty goals, of which I had none, I made the impetuous decision, out loud, to quit smoking. I can’t say that it was easy and there are people today who are still carrying the scars of my vehement harangues during my nicotine withdrawal days. If there is anyone to whom I’ve ever failed to apologize, I am apologizing now.
In earlier years, Scott and I had often commiserated about our very enjoyable smoking days and vowed that when our 70th birthdays arrived, we would take up the nasty habit again. But 70 came and went without so much as a puff. We weren't ready to die. We half heartedly revisited the decision when we each turned 75; still no great desire. However, we are adamant that on our 100th birthdays we will light up. And we will smoke genuine cigarettes. There is nothing more stupid looking than someone sucking on an e-cig or whatever those goofy vape instruments are called. No one ever looked good smoking a vape. Imagine Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn smoking a vape? Not happening. We may allow ourselves to fall to the siren’s lure of nicotine but we still have standards.
