Coffee and an Ashtray

     Good Morning....It feels like morning. I have got to get up and pour a cup of coffee before I can even think straight so if you don't mind waiting just a bit till I get some, I think I'll be much better company for us both.  See you in a second............................Ok I am back and slowly waking up. I hope you are doing better. I was  pouring my coffee, trying to think of what to talk about and lighting a cigarette so unconsciously that I had forgotten all about the joys I had when I began to smoke at age three. You see I didn't always smoke. There was a time when I didn't... Smoke free...... Now thats a thought... Some people say its a weakness others say smokers are just offensive and I'm sure there is more but when I started things were a little different. I remember my first one. Well kind of.. I was at my Grandma's house and I guess I was playing in the ashtrays. Well my good natured grandma thought how cute it would  be to get a picture of me smoking a cigarette. Well she gave me one and lighting it told me how to puff it. " You have to breathe in when you take a puff " she said. It did no good. All I did was blow which wasn't the right way to do it as I was told. It served alright for the picture though and she was happy. I know I didn't inhale then but I got the taste for it though.Everyone smoked then. People smoked in schools, in grocery stores, even in hospitals. People turned on the news and the anchors smoked while they were on air. Ed Sullivan, Johnny Carson and many more television celebrities smoked. Why not? There was nothing wrong with it. There were no warning labels, no decals, no lights going off. Smoking was cool and if you were cool, you smoked.My parents were no different. Mom had her Belairs and Dad had his Dutch masters cigars. They were the coolest people I knew then. Everyone loved the picture of me smoking with the exception of them. I was still a hit as far as the family went though. I started smoking regularly when I was seven. It was a year after the little incident at school .I remember my chosen friends { the only ones I could hang out with } and I passed the smoking area on the way to school everyday. One day as we passed, one of the older kids asked if I wasn't the one that brought a machete to school. I tried to explain that it was only a little fishing knife but they didn't care. They thought it was cool. They all gave me the thumbs up and at that moment I felt pretty big. And best of all, my friends were there to see it. " Hey kid,want a smoke? " I heard a senior ask. " Uh Yea, I'll take one " I replied. Two of my friends accepted them as well and we stood out back in the smoking area and we smoked. Yea, we were smoking with the big guys. For second graders we were the big dogs. Straight up alpha, all the way. From then on we felt as big as any one of them. We were cool. I knew what cool meant after that day.I will never forget the first six months of smoking. I threw up after the first couple of drags every day walking to school. I was cool though and no one ever saw me throw up. I eventually got used to it and  soon I even learned what inhaling was.Sneaking a smoke was also fun. It was one of the first things I hid from mom and dad. I would crack the window in the middle of the night and very quietly light one of the Belair cigarettes I stole from mom's pack.By then you see, I was feeling that delicate, gentle tug at the back of my mind  whispering how good a cigarette would taste. That sweet aroma as I exhaled the smoke wasn't making me feel ill any more.I remember when I was eleven I got caught smoking and Dad sat me down and made me smoke a whole cigarette in front of him. He told me that if I inhaled the cigarette I could smoke in the house. I was going to smoke anyway he told me.I had been smoking fairly regular by then , a pack a week , so it was no problem smoking one in front of dad. It sure was awkward though. It was like standing naked in church. It was just one place I didn't want to be.As with all things time passed and smoking infused itself into my being.Cigarettes have claimed me as a friend for 44 years now. We have been through it all together. Even when I have tried to leave, my friend just smiles that knowing smile. " See you in a little while " I hear him laugh. I guess its time I say good bye. My coffee is cold and I have to go to the store. I will miss my cigarettes and I am trying real hard to quit.  You see I made a promise to someone more special than my old friend. It is a sincere promise.I will keep.Soon it will be coffee and more coffee. There will be no need for the ashtray........................