My parents ,much of my family, as well as most of their friends smoked indoors, in their cars, and even in restaurants. Despite living in near poverty for parts of my childhood, they chain smoked cartons of cigarettes a week. Must have been expensive.
I wish I could say that they stopped smoking, but no. The worst part for them isn’t even the fact that they know that it has taken at least a decade or more off their lives. It’s the realization at how much they are missing out on near the end of their lives and how difficult it is living with debilitating health issues from smoking. They simply cannot do what other people their age take for granted.
And to the title of the post: Yes, I was the kid in the car while my parents chain smoked cigarettes. Sometimes they rolled the windows down, though I’m not sure if that was better since it meant the ashes and red hot “cherry” would inevitably come flying back in and smack me in the face.
Where I live, the indoor smoking bans started in the early 2000s. Before then, people that went to bars and clubs ended the night smelling like cigarette smoke whether they themselves were smokers or not. Sometimes even eating out at a restaurant would leave you smelling like a smoker. Back in those days, though, I was still so used to it that dealing with it was second nature.
For most of my life the smell didn’t really bother me, but I’ve found that within the past 5 years or so it does.
As a child, I guess I just grew up with it, so it didn’t bug me much. I hated being teased about it at school, which was a regular thing. I also used to hate how the tar would build up on the walls of our house to the point where it would form tear-like patterns. My parents kept an otherwise reasonably clean and tidy house, but for some reason THAT didn’t bother them, so periodically I’d spend a few hours scrubbing our walls to get rid of the stains and cut down on the smell a bit.
My parents ,much of my family, as well as most of their friends smoked indoors, in their cars, and even in restaurants. Despite living in near poverty for parts of my childhood, they chain smoked cartons of cigarettes a week. Must have been expensive.
I wish I could say that they stopped smoking, but no. The worst part for them isn’t even the fact that they know that it has taken at least a decade or more off their lives. It’s the realization at how much they are missing out on near the end of their lives and how difficult it is living with debilitating health issues from smoking. They simply cannot do what other people their age take for granted.
And to the title of the post: Yes, I was the kid in the car while my parents chain smoked cigarettes. Sometimes they rolled the windows down, though I’m not sure if that was better since it meant the ashes and red hot “cherry” would inevitably come flying back in and smack me in the face.
Remember how everything smelled like cigarettes? Like that was the smell of the 80s.
Where I live, the indoor smoking bans started in the early 2000s. Before then, people that went to bars and clubs ended the night smelling like cigarette smoke whether they themselves were smokers or not. Sometimes even eating out at a restaurant would leave you smelling like a smoker. Back in those days, though, I was still so used to it that dealing with it was second nature.
For most of my life the smell didn’t really bother me, but I’ve found that within the past 5 years or so it does.
As a child, I guess I just grew up with it, so it didn’t bug me much. I hated being teased about it at school, which was a regular thing. I also used to hate how the tar would build up on the walls of our house to the point where it would form tear-like patterns. My parents kept an otherwise reasonably clean and tidy house, but for some reason THAT didn’t bother them, so periodically I’d spend a few hours scrubbing our walls to get rid of the stains and cut down on the smell a bit.