Roger Varley has been in the news business almost 40 years with The Canadian Press/Broadcast News, Uxbnridge Times-Journal, Richmond Hill Liberal and Uxbridge Cosmos. Co-winner with two others of CCNA national feature writing award. In Scout movement over 30 years, almost 25 as a leader. Took Uxbridge youths to World Jamboree in Holland. Involved in community theatre for 20 years as actor, director, playwright, stage manager etc. Born in England, came to Canada at 16, lived most of life north and east of Toronto with a five-year period in B.C.
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Will this column change someone's life?
This column is addressed to one young person in particular, but you are all welcome to read it if you wish.
First, an explanation. One day last week, as I was standing on a downtown corner, a high school student approached me with a request.
“If I give you the money, will you buy me a packet of Belmonts?” he asked.
Of course, I refused. Had I done as he requested, I would have been breaking the law. But more than that, I would have been doing him a great disservice.
Young man, this is for you.
I have been smoking cigarettes for the past 54 years. I started when I was a 14-year-old schoolboy. Back then, it seemed as though every adult smoked and, of course every schoolboy is in a hurry to grow up and emulate them. Smokers were allowed to light up in the cinema, on the buses, in restaurants or pretty much anywhere else. In those days, smokers didn't have all the information on the harmful effects of smoking that is available nowadays. And so I became addicted.
Of course, I only started out with one or two a day. But tobacco takes hold of you quickly. It wasn't long before I used the money my mother gave me each week to buy my school lunches to purchase a packet of cigarettes to last me the week. Over the years, that gradually increased to a pack of 25 cigarettes a day.
After 54 years of smoking, I now suffer the consequences. Often, my chest feels as though Muhammad Ali has been using it for a punching bag. It feels bruised because of the amount of coughing I go through, particularly late at night and in the morning. Sometimes, I find it difficult to breathe and have to force my lungs to take in as much air as they can hold. Often, that leads to more coughing.
Those breathing difficulties lessen my ability to partake in physical exercise. For example, I am usually out of breath by the time I climb to the top of Observation Hill in the Countryside Preserve.
I am aware of how serious this problem is and I have talked to my family doctor about quitting and ways to accomplish it. But, as any long-time smoker will tell you, young man, it is far from easy. Yes, some people manage to quit. But if they are honest, they will tell you that the craving is still there, even years after their last cigarette.
Not only that, but smoking plays havoc with your social life. You find yourself stepping away from engaging conversations, ignoring desserts or missing out on fun simply because you have to go outside for a smoke. You will brave frigid temperatures and icy winds that would give a Yukon trapper second thoughts just to fill your lungs with smoke.
Going to the movies involves steeling yourself for the ordeal of going two hours without a cigarette. And Heaven forbid that an actor in the movie should light up a fag. That's just twisting the knife.
Your clothing smells of cigarette smoke and that is not pleasant. If you smoke at home, your furniture smells of smoke and your walls become discoloured.
If you have a limited amount of money in your pocket and you have a choice between buying lunch or cigarettes, you'll buy the cigarettes, because you can go a few hours without eating, but you can't go a few hours without a cigarette. Talking of money, consider this: if I put the money I spend on cigarettes in the bank instead, I would have an extra $2,920 in my account after one year.
And finally, young man, you will find that you are treated like a pariah because you smoke. And you will be willing to put up with the jibes, the insults, the lectures and the inconveniences just so that you can have that cigarette. Just this week, a woman asked me not to touch her baby because I have nicotine on my fingers.
A writing instructor once told me that, as a writer, I might one day write one article, one sentence, that will change someone's life and I'll never know it. If that is correct, young man, then it seems to me that I couldn't ask for more than for this to be that article.
Tell me, am I wrong?
