Want more Jeff Edelstein? Head on over to jeffedelstein.substack.com I quit smoking almost a generation ago, and I still miss it. Not “miss it” like I miss my 20-year-old knees or being able to eat four slices of pizza without immediately regretting it. No, I mean I actually, genuinely, physical ly miss cigarettes. The whole ritual of it. The way it made everything better for exactly four minutes. It’s been 15 years. My son — the actual reason I quit — is 16 now. (And trust me, he won’t smoke, because he’s smart. Also, because I will absolutely rip his lungs out if he does.) Fifteen years later, and I still think about cigarettes roughly 47 times a day. You know what I miss most, miss it every time? The cigarette after a spicy meal. That first drag of a Newport Light (before I graduated to Camel Lights, then Winston Lights, then finally American Spirits because I was fancy like that) would just reset everything. And driving. I used to think I loved driving. Turns out what I really loved was smoking while driving. Windows cracked, music up, cigarette dangling from my left hand while I steered with my right. Take away the cigarettes and it turns out driving is just … driving. Sitting in traffic, going places, arriving at places. Revolutionary stuff. Now I drive around like a healthy schnook and it’s boring as hell. And when I see someone smoking these days, a rare sight? I walk directly into their cigarette smoke. Just stand there breathing it in like some kind of secondhand smoke vampire. No judgment for current smokers, by the way. Zero. In fact, I’m jealous. Cigarettes still look cool. Sorry, but they do. Tangent: Vaping is not cool. You know what you look like when you vape? You look like you’re having fun with a robot’s weinerschnitz. Just putting that out there. I’m 53 now, and I have a foolproof plan. When I turn 75, I’m lighting up again. What’s the worst that can happen? At 75, everything’s basically borrowed time anyway, right? Because this is what I think when I see a really old smoker. Not “Oh, that’s terrible for his health.” I think, “Look at that guy. He made it! He won!” I know this makes me a terrible person. I know I should be grateful for my health and my extra 15 years of life expectancy and my ability to smell things again. (Though honestly, being able to smell everything is overrated. The world is gross.) But I can’t help it. I miss the convenience store runs. The vending machines. Heck, I’m old enough to remember cigarette vending machines in my dorm at University of Maryland in 1990. Buck-forty for a pack of whatever. So yeah, I miss smoking. But I’ll wait until 75. That’s the deal I made with myself. And if I make it that long, I’m buying a carton of American Spirits, finding a good bench, and watching the world go by, one puff at a time. ...read more read less