When in Rome

I am in Europe so rule number one, I should be smoking, right? I mean seriously, when in Rome, do as the Roman’s do. I should just light one of those sticks of style up and blow the smoke out in rings hoping that it captures the essence of what I think would give me the final missing piece to my trip.

I will admit it, I have indulged in a clove or two or three…packs in high school. During the time when I was trying to prove that I was a bad ass and didn’t need to fit into the confines of any criteria, while still following the rules of my rural, girly and protected upbringing. Then of course it lead to a pattern of having a Black and Mild 3-4 times a week in college. A relationship I found myself in at that point in my life depended on long conversations sitting in my car while swapping the cheap stoagie back and forth. At that smoking stage in my life, being able to handle such a rugged smoke made me feel powerful. Like I was a chick that stood out and that you couldn’t mess with. An important feeling for a fledgling 18 year old.

Of course I can read this now and understand how ridiculous and trashy that sounds. And I can also laugh at myself for ever thinking yellow teeth and a constant rattly cough was sexy. But there is logic behind it. I can’t take credit for coming up with it myself b/c I read it in this book I am reading (yes, the same one that also gave me the inspiration for my next post….this book is SO good!) It's called the Tipping Point, by Malcolm Gladwell. It tries to explain social epidemics and the behavior amongst social trends and such, ranging from the explosion of Hush Puppies in the 90’s to Paul Revere’s ride during the Revolutionary War to suicide and teenage smoking.

And so the logic begins…public campaigns have been giving a die-hard try to get teens to stay away from smokng, but their smoking has only increased. It is kind of like the same principle of if a parent vehemently forbids you to do something, you are going to do that something to an infinite exponent just out of spite. So of course there have been even more studies conducted on this phenomenon and when asked how many years smokers were subtracting from their life span due to their nasty habit, the averge guess was 9 years. The actual answer is 6. Smokers are so aware of the negative effects of their habit that they overestimate their chances of dying. This is not a huge factor smokers consider or even care about when they buy their next pack.

So obviously the anti-smoking campaigns that focuses on the health detriments are null and void. A waste of time and money even. So another round of studies asking 20-30 year old smokers to describe their first experiences with smoking in order to identify the real reason people pick up cigarettes, had a lot of correlation.

Everyone told stories of their grandmother or mother or high school friend or babysitter smoking. And they all used descriptions such as “ My mother had long-tapered fingers holding the cigarette with crinkly lips wearing rouge with such a devil may care attittde” or “My English Nanny one Summer never wore a bra and woud do handstands at the beach for all the boys to see and she smoked” or “My best guy friend in high school would roll a cigerrette on a Grateful Dead record” or “my grandmother’s purse always smelled of cinnamon gum, leather, lipstick and cheap Winstons.”

These responses and stories all seemed to show a few common themes. One was that smoking was associated with sophistication and the idea that all those that smoked were cool. They were cutting edge and didn’t care what anyone thought of them. And if you smoke publicly, you really can’t care what others think of you b/c you know that at least 55% of the population looks at you in disgust or as if you're ruining the essence that surrounds them.

Going even further with this study, these feelings of independence and mental care-freeness led to smokers having better sex lives, being more of a risk taker, lyng less (b/c when you light up, you're basically putting your worst card on the table for everyone to gander at) and always being an extrovert at a party.

I particurly love the the last story about the Grandmother’s purse because my Grandmother was an avid smoker. I distinctly remember walking into her bedroom and seeing a triangle of cigarette cartons waiting to be smoked, which started with 13 packs as its base and moving up to 1 pack at the point.

That’s 91 packs and probably close to 2,000 individual sticks, that probably only lasted my grandmother a week at best. I am not sure that it was despite the cigarettes or because of them, but my Grandmother was so glamourous and beautiful. Her hair was always done and she would wear elaborate outfits with jewelry and lipstick to match and she always had a diet coke in her hand and her cocker spaniel dog at her side. No one messed with her – least of all me. And true to real smoker form, she was always throwing sophisticated parties and she was always a risk taker and she always told the truth no matter how cutting it may have been to me or anyone else.

Those are all things I want to be. I want to be more extroverted and I want to be less risk averse and I want to keep things on a more even keel with honesty. I just want to be more real. So should I take up smoking, where at least EVERYONE does it over here?

Because I remember those are all things I used to feel on a really cold winter’s night when I was sitting outside looking at the stars, deep in conversation exhaling that vanilla flavored smoke.

While this account of social behavior was fascinating and made me fondly reflect on my own past, I am going to stay glamorous and risk-taking and honest without a stick in my hand. I partake in the occasional cigar, but I really hate the taste of smoke now and I hate how it sticks to my clothes and hair. And few things in life are as important as a beautiful smile, but it is interesting that something so understandably bad for you could produce such strong feelings of independence and I think that is something that really works for Europeans. I mean really, it’s something that works for everyone.