This piece will wrap up the story about the early days of my new life as a non-smoker. I figure five weeks (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4) is probably enough. Thank you all for following along. If you haven’t read last week’s yet, I’ll bring you up to speed. It was day one, I was about seven hours without a cigarette; I was home alone with a toddler and an infant about to watch the Ravens’ playoff game. The weather outside was absolutely miserable and yet, I was contemplating taking my two little girls out in it just so I could get an emergency pack of smokes. I’ll now pick up right where we left off.
Amidst my very brief lapse in sanity, I had a thought process that was so outlandish and ridiculous that I have to share it with you, even if it means my potentially ending up in a room with padded walls. I’ll now tell you the thoughts that kept me from taking my kids out in the rain just so I could get one last smoke. I started thinking to myself: what if there is really intelligent life on other planets? This is something I usually don’t think about because I haven’t seen much evidence of intelligent life on this planet. But just suppose there was life out there, and they had the ability to watch and observe us from a safe distance through a magical crystal ball type of thing like something from a sixties sci-fi movie. I then visualized this race of superior beings in their ship or headquarters of some sort, safely, light years away. For some reason, completely at random, their magic, all seeing orb chose me as the Earthling to focus on for their studies. Because, of course, who on either side would not want me to be Earth’s emissary during time of potential inter-galactic conflict?
So I imagined that the moronic fictitious event that I described a few paragraphs ago actually took place. I pretended that I did take my kids out in the rain so that I could get smokes. But when I did, my every move during the process was being filmed from a great distance and observed by the space dudes. The following is a conversation that I imagined would have taken place between the commander and the officer observing the live video feed of my actions reporting them to him.
COMM. “What is the subject doing?”
OFF. “He appears to be preparing for a journey. It must be one of vital importance for he is preparing the miniature ones for transport as well. To take them along in such poor conditions, his mission must be of dire urgency.”
COMM. “Keep me informed of his every step.”
OFF. “He’s loaded the miniature beings into the transport and is preparing for departure. All of his systems are set to high. This must be an urgent mission, sir. They are traveling through very unfavorable conditions.”
COMM. “Let me know when they’ve reached their destination.”
OFF. “They are arriving now, sir. He’s docking in front of a very important building. It’s the only one I’ve seen with a numeric code across the front. I can only assume it’s the building which houses their ministries and governing bodies.”
COMM. “Indeed. And just what is the numeric code encrypted on the façade of this sacred structure?”
OFF. “7/11 sir.”
COMM. “Ah yes. I’ve heard tell of such a sacred numeric pattern. 7/11 must indeed be the backbone of their society. Monitor the building for its security measures and defense systems. What is he doing now?”
OFF. “He’s entered the structure carrying the two small ones. I assume they are his protection. He’s now addressing a uniformed officer over a checkpoint counter. They seem to be communicating sir. The edges of the officer’s lowest facial opening are curving upwards. I’m not sure what that means.”
COMM. “This sounds like an urgent rendezvous. Make sure to tell me everything you see.”
OFF. “The officer has turned and retrieved a small rectangular item. She’s now pointing a laser gun at it. Sir this must be the battery that powers the main generator that keeps their planet rotating! Her laser beam must have just recharged it!”
COMM. “Fascinating! This is all of the utmost importance. What do you see now?”
OFF. “He’s handing her a grouping of small green documents in exchange for the battery. This must contain the secrets of their society. He’s now returning to the transport with his two small guards. They appear to now be returning to the original fortress sir.”
COMM. “Tell me what happens once they’re back inside the fortress.”
OFF. “He’s removing the armor from the small ones. The fortress must be impenetrable sir. He’s placed the mini ones in small cages and he has gone to another section of the fortress.”
COMM. “Watch his every move. This is crucial and I don’t want to miss anything.”
OFF. “Yes sir. He has taken the battery out of his uniform. He is now removing a seal from around the rectangle. Sir, he’s opening the top of the battery! “
COMM. “Can you see what’s inside?”
OFF. “Yes sir. It’s possible that this is not a battery after all. I believe the rectangle was just a container for transport. It appears to contain approximately twenty tiny scrolls. Each scroll must contain the arming and launch codes for their entire defense mechanisms should we decide to attack!”
COMM. “What is he doing now?”
OFF. “He’s removing one of the scrolls.”
COMM. “Zoom in on it and run one of your chemical analysis break downs on it. I need to know what the scroll is comprised of.”
OFF. “ Yes sir. I’m getting a reading sir. It appears the outer layer of the scroll is made of something called paper. It’s obtained by severing one of those green structures that grow out of their planet that provide them with shade and oxygen.”
COMM. “ Ah yes, I believe they call them trees. Can you see what is in the scrolls yet?”
OFF. “ No sir, but I’m starting to think they are not in fact scrolls. I’m getting back a reading on the chemical makeup of the interior portion of the cylinders. They seem to contain tar, nicotine, tobacco, fiberglass, and several other chemicals I can’t yet identify. In fact, it contains the exact same overall chemical makeup as the interior of that construction site dumpster we ran on our last visit. Remember, the one where they had just imploded the old tenement building that was built in the early sixties? “
COMM. “Yes, I do remember that. If not scrolls of vital information, then what are these tiny cylinders?”
OFF. “Sir I now believe they may be a special breathing apparatus to help the Earthlings adapt should their atmosphere be compromised.”
COMM. “What makes you think that?”
OFF. “He’s placed one end of it into his lower facial orifice and appears to be attempting to breathe through it.”
COMM. “ Very interesting. Even with all of those horrible chemicals in it? What is he doing now?”
OFF. “Uh, well…he just lit the other end of it on fire.”
COMM. “No, seriously, what is he really doing? This is important and not a time to be Morking with me.”
OFF. “I’m not Morking with you, sir. He has set one end of it on fire. He’s burning the chemicals inside of the cylinder and producing a cloud which he is drawing through his lower facial orifice and into his life bags.”
COMM. “I don’t believe it! It can’t be! I thought they had been extinct!”
OFF. “What sir, what is it?!”
COMM. “We visited and observed this planet several years ago. They had these things—I believe they were called cigarettes. But they should have been obsolete long ago. When we were last there, each and every single person who used them swore a solemn oath that if they ever went up to $4.00 a pack, they would quit immediately and never smoke again. If my readings are correct, the price has now doubled that. How could that many Earthlings have lied?”
OFF. “I don’t know sir. It appears they’re not such an intelligent breed after all.”
COMM. “Ya think? These creatures are a mess. We’ll come back later after they’ve destroyed themselves. Let’s get the ‘Sun’ outta here. What do you say we go check out Uranus?”
So anyway, in just a few brief seconds, this entire psychotic exchange went on in my head. And as crazy as it sounds, it helped keep me from going out in the freezing rain with my two little ones to buy a pack of cigarettes. Hey, whatever works. Now my paranoia about how stupid I must look to beings from other galaxies has given me another impetus to not smoke again.
Well that about wraps up the highlights from the lengthy piece I wrote around day five after quitting. I was still in the jaws of withdrawal at the time. To finish with a quick update, I’m about six weeks in now and sticking to it. I haven’t cheated once, not a single puff. And still, to date I’ve recruited no aids or assistance whatsoever other than my own borderline insanity, and my newfound love of cookies.
As this column posts, I’ve so far put on twenty-four pounds in that six weeks. So I’m rapidly morphing from a skinny smoker to a fat non-smoker. I don’t cough much anymore, but I still have some shortness of breath. Only now, it’s “fat guy” breath, not “smoker” breath. I’ll take that trade. I’m looking at a bright future of cleaner lungs, and slip on shoes. (I have trouble getting down to tie them now. I’m still kind of new to this fat thing.) I don’t quite understand why weight gain can’t be more evenly dispersed. If it subtly took over all points of my body at the same rate, then fine, no problem. But no; it’s nowhere except for my gut and my face. I still have a pencil neck, and stick figure extremities, only now I have a fat face and a huge gut. I look like a caricature drawing of the unfortunate love child of Mr. Potato Head, and a bobble head doll.
As much as I’ve poked fun at myself, and this process, the truth is, I feel great and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I had to make some changes because I now have so much to live for. The actual driving force behind my spur of the moment decision to quit was a promise I’ve made to all three of my daughters. I’ve promised them each that I will walk them down the aisle, and dance with them at their weddings. Considering that two of them are still in diapers, it’s a bold promise. But one I intend to keep. I hope you’ve enjoyed this five part series. It was fun and therapeutic for me to write. Thanks for playing along.
Until next week,
Syd Nichols
