´óÏó´«Ã½

Smoke gets in your eyes... pressure gets on your wick

So here we go, the countdown. The smoking ban in enclosed spaces, and my commitment to give up smoking.

I'll do it. I will. But on my terms. And with your help- and thank you for all your comments [the Messageboard is further down this page].

Lamont's not finding it easy

Everyone appears to have an opinion on when, how and where the smoker should quit. Thanks. Thanks for all your thoughts. Just give me the space, the fresh air to stop.
Smokers throughout ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke are going to acupuncturists, Allan Carr sessions and the NHS courses. I'm going 'cold turkey'.

Actually, it shouldn't be that difficult. I only started smoking 4 years ago.

I gave up in January this year and it was only when I stupidly decided to add - or take away alcohol, chocolate, crisps during Lent that I imploded and my wife found me sweating and cowering in a corner, fag lit in one hand, large scotch in the other with a mouth full of Quavers and Dairy Milk that I realised I'd maybe taken on - or taken out too much at once.

If you don't smoke - you frankly don't understand what an incredibly addictive drug it is.

I spent three days the last give up time, growling, edgy and a pain-in-the-backside to be around. Hopefully I'll learn from that hideous experience this time around.

I'm going to do it in my own time - as long as that time is before the 1st of July.

Sixteen days and counting...

Keeping Tabs...

Fifteen days to go until the new smoking laws come in and I'm giving up the weed. I already know the biggest concern is filling the seven minute void that cigarettes take up. That and breaking the habit... the routine...

Waken at 5am. Shower and shave. Dressed.

Fag.

Taxi arrives. Get to work. Make sure all is well with the Breakfast programme and the world. Sort out talking points. Set up studio for a 7am start. Make sure I've told Den who presents the early show what we're talking about that day.

Fag.

On the radio six days a week and unable to leave the studio. 10.05am.
Fag.

Have a morning meeting to discuss the days show and look ahead to the next show. Half an hour later, brief break before the work of the day begins…

Yes, you've guessed it.

Any advice on breaking the routine would help. It would really help. I know it's the nicotine talking to my body. "I'm running low. You need more of me. Go on… go on… light me up."

I know I don't need a cigarette. My colleagues at ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke know I don't need cigarettes. Just how do I get it into my head that I don't need, want or crave a cigarette?

Fathers Day

A few days ago I looked at Fathers Day as one of my proposed STOP points. The pressure is building and I shouldn't have a problem but Fathers Day is here and there's no way I'm giving up today.

And I'm determined to have a mellow week as I've recently taken over the breakfast show and want a good week. The last time I gave up smoking I was a nightmare to live with for three days. My colleagues don't need a growling presenter, but more importantly, neither does my wife - a smoker. She says she's giving up too. Time will tell.

So, it's my birthday a week today and my close family are coming to visit a week on Thursday. I'll have given up by then… but when exactly, I don't know.

re you giving up? Has the added pressure made you more resolute in your determination to keep smoking as it's your right?

We're talking about the 01 July on a daily basis in the office. Let's see what transpires this week with 13 days to go.

Limbering up for the bell to ring

And the upturned egg-glass is filling up with sand… or should that be ash? Twelve days to go until the 1st of July and the start of a new week at ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke.

My usual first fag on arrival at work. Fag number two - and three after we finish this mornings breakfast show at ten o'clock.

Our regular morning team meeting and we're talking fags.

Let's visit students to see what they're saying.

We'll look at the enforcement by a reported 36% of companies who're to crack down on people taking fag breaks. A third of English companies say they'll not allow smoking workers to leave their office and take a break… discuss.

We're going to look at the history of smoking - great chance on the Tuesday breakfast show to play the old Bob Newhart comedy monologue 'introducing tobacco to England'… make sure you're listening on 94.6FM.

We'll be trawling hospital buildings where smokers have been moved away from outside the main doors - is there a greater irony than watching smokers gather outside a hospital?

And me? I feel like I'm limbering up mentally for the big fight to stop. Permanently. There's no doubt it's a battle and I hear myself massaging the brain more and more. It's the nicotine talking. You can and will do this. You'll save money. A shed load of cash, actually. The house stinks and the car is filled with ash. It's so unhealthy. In fact, is there any benefit at all?

Yes. It chills me. It calms me. It fills a moment or five. I like smoking. Then the brain massage works it's way and I get back in the ring as the bell goes for yet another round in the battle to stop smoking.

Let me know how you're getting on? Annoyed at the pressure? Delighted to have the support that you need?

A smoker

Thanks for your comments on the blog so far - at least the printable ones. So many of us are feeling pressured into giving up.

Now, as a smoker… for the next few days at least.Ìý

You see, the difference is I want to give up. You have to want to give up. I'm not going to give the views of a non-smoker - nor do I intend being a self-righteous non-smoker on the other side.

It's your choice. Your money. Your health. Your privilege.

So, I continue battling with the nicotine demons in my head. That's my key to going 'cold turkey'. I'm just going to stop smoking. Beat the demons. Minimise the reasons why you want to give up - and use the same phrase over and over again.

Every time I want a cigarette it's not me speaking… it's the nicotine. That worked the last time. Okay, right now, writing about fags… just makes me want to have another one. Please excuse me...

Ten... ignite engines

Yes, the countdown has reached rocket propelling numbers and the accompanying roar from all and sundry with an opinion on why you and I should or should not smoke grows ever louder.

I had a worrying experience this morning.

You know when you've lost something but after checking all your pockets you check them again... and again... and again.

I forgot my cigarette lighter and was sans fags until after this morning's Breakfast Show at 10am. At one stage I thought, this is how it's going to be. If you don't carry a lighter (or fags for that matter) then you can't smoke. Simple really.

But then you start creating analogies of rockets being ignited on the countdown to the 1st of July and the new anti-smoking laws and the vivid imagination morphs the rocket into a big, white, lit cigarette. Now I've found my lighter, I'm off again.

Between you and me, my 'cold turkey' final stub is days away. Not ten days away... fewer. Far fewer.

How are you getting on? Giving up? Pressing on?

Thanks for the comments back to this page and the thoughts of support. There's so little thinking time in any given day at the moment and looking out the window across to the Council offices, I can see the number 10 ready to click to 9…8...

Looking for a sign

We all have countdowns. We carefully countdown the days till we have a holiday. The time left before a celebration. The nine days before the new smoking ban comes into force across England.

I'm a man of great faith and belief and I wasn't expecting the sign I received this morning that signaled my own personal countdown to giving up cigarettes. I buried a close friend in Scotland a couple of weeks ago.

This morning, having worried about his own health, Iain, brother of one of my closest chums - aged 53 and with a wife and 2 kids decided to go to the gym to sort himself out. He fell down with a heart attack last night and couldn't be resuscitated.

We all need signs, or encouragement, or a shock. Sadly, we all receive them. It's called life. On most occasions the sign comes from an unexpected and usually unwelcome place.

With a beautiful wife and three equally beautiful children, any non-smoker would look at me and shake their head in disbelief. How can you smoke when we all know how bad it is for our health?Ìý

Well, I am intending not to pick up a cigarette ever again.

Any support, comment or thought will be fully appreciated. Best wishes with your attempt to quit if that's your intention. I must and will quit while I still can. And it starts now. Today.

Even God hates fags

Twenty Fours and one live broadcast complete and I'm ok… then in a mess… then ok again.

I gave up cigarettes yesterday.ÌýRemember the last time I said that very final sounding phrase. It took me three full days to get rid of the aggressive shakes, foul temper and equally offensive smell. I have a constant headache. I know it's withdrawal. Cigarettes have been withdrawn from my insurance portfolio. I keep repeating the mantra, I am a non-smoker.

Last night on telly, the Keith Allen documentary followed the group calling themselves the Westboro Baptist Church in Kansas. Their belief to follow the word of the Lord literally. Every word… literally. So I switch on to find the interviewer talking (the sound was down) to a woman wearing a T-shirt bearing three words "GOD HATES FAGS".
Without hesitation I went off on one. "It's amazing… these people… so where in the Bible were cigarettes ever mentioned?"

My wife, patient, supportive (but still one of those smokers) watched me go through the cold turkey routine until sound and understanding on the TV were restored for me to get the obviously rational viewpoint.

Fags are, according to the clean living and fair minded denizens of Topeka community another word for homosexuals. There's been so much written about cigarettes/tabs/fags over the last few weeks that my automatic reaction as a non-smoker of 24 hours was… oh, they're talking about homosexuals… not smokers... that's all right then.

That was last night. Only a few minutes later I'd realised just how much giving up this hideous drug had affected my thinking. I spend a ridiculous amount of my time defending minority groups and the less advantaged and here was me thinking - it's not about me so go and do your work elsewhere.

I know it's the nicotine talking. It makes you growl. It makes you snap. But I know it'll be better in three... no, two days time.

Happy Birthday to me.

High fives

Five days to go and I'm still a non-smoker. 5 days to go til the general public enclosed spaces smoking ban is in place. 5 days since I smoked. 5 is, all of a sudden, a good number.

Just having some chat in the office about the ban and there's seems to be little understanding of how this ban is going to affect us. You and me.

In Ireland and Scotland, denizens have complied. Publicans have attempted to create cunning plans - like offering free overcoats for smokers - or erecting red telephone boxed in back gardens with funnels reaching metres into the night sky in order to deflect second hand smoke.

Daily Mirror newspaper headline

I even hear folk talking coolly about just ignoring the ban.

Futile behaviour. And it's all for your own good.

You won't beat it. You can't beat it. Nor should you. Read the smoke signals.

Help Me Redonda

Three days to go until armageddon. Well, with all the fuss now being made - particularly across my own profession - the media - you'd think the end of the world was nigh.

A reminder. In three days time if you are a smoker, you won't be permitted to smoke in an enclosed public space. That's it. That's all.

On ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke we've my blog…thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts - I'm still smoke free having given up a week ago (don't know what all the fuss is or was about).

I've adopted a pub in Cheshire where they're terrified of Black Sunday (cue thunder claps, flashing lights and harbingers of doom trudging the streets in search of used tabs).

One boozer in Southampton has even declared itself an Embassy to the remote Caribbean island of Redonda. As such, they are 'foreign soil' and a haven for smokers.

The (PC) Department of Health admitted that "the smoke-free law will not be enforceable against premises that have diplomatic status". Bunkum. Let's stub out PC nonsense as well as fags. As the Beach Boys were wont to muse…Help Me Redonda…!

Smoke free

In only a couple of days, you and I are going to see clearly now the smoke has gone. And the rain for that matter. Read this again next week and you'll then understand the changes that are about to happen across England.

This time next week you will walk into a pub or restaurant and you'll notice something different but won't be able to work out what it is. The tables are clean and free of ashtrays. That means there will be no rubbish or crisp packets strewn across the eating and drinking area.

Most place will wallop a fresh coat of paint which makes the room brighter. Curtains will be cleaned and you'll be able to see the bar. You will have a new social experience. Just because there is no smoke in the room. Hoorah for change.

Smoke and mirrors

1 day 19 hours 22 minutes... we're talking about smoking on this morning's Breakfast Show. Colleague, Dave Hamer is giving up fags tomorrow and is sweating, terrified but apparently as determined as me to not just give up - but stay smoke free. Free of smoke.

You (if you want to give up) can simply call the CSV action desk on 01782 221225 and ask for a free advice pack to try and help you. I just want the moment to come and for folk to stop focusing on the same questions; "How many days now? Are you still off?"

It's similar to the British awkwardness regarding death; "Are you ok? Get yourself a hobby, that'll help."

The best thing I can do is look in the mirror and see my lines. Clearly. Smell my breath. Fresh. Feel my clothes. Clean. Empty my pockets. No fags or lighter and there's some money there. That hasn't happened for the best part of 5 years. That's how long ago I started smoking. 8 days. That's how many days I've been smoke free.

1 day, 19 hours and 20 minutes. That's how long til the smoke ban comes in. Enjoy it when it comes.

Hours away but our future lies ahead

I've just revisited the comments you've shared with me on the blog. I'm stunned and humbled - but more importantly, encouraged by the support to give up fags forever. Thank you to all of you who've taken time to write.

As I type, colleague Dave is going through his last inhalation on the Allan Carr programme - costs a couple of hundred quid but presses the psychological buttons with a 90% rate. Rich who writes below did it a few years ago and, basically, if he can do it - having smoked like the Beagle he was - then so can I.

It's nearly time to stub out for good.

Tam wrote below - a man who has dedicated his adult life to comedy. I watched him in awe preparing ´óÏó´«Ã½ comedy scripts, his nose embedded in notebooks and screeds of notes taken from years of experience. I produced a comedy show Tam presented a few years ago and have always politely said 'hello' ever since - all the while thinking I never came up to the standards of production he and his equally briliant presenter Stuart Cosgrove attain on a bi-weekly basis - on radio and in the papers.

And here, years later he writes - intriguing me - that I paid him his biggest compliment. A modern comedy icon in Scotland. And I'll probably never know what it was - but maybe that's not important.

What is vital is to possess the knowledge that we never know who we might influence with a word, an approach, or, in the case of giving up cigarettes, simple support. Support that can change an attitude, an opinion, a lifestyle.
Tell someone you know this week what you like about them. Lift them. And lift yourself.
If you've given up. Keep it up.

If you're still trying. Put out the cigarette. Get rid of the lighters and asjtrays and smells and places where you smoked. Change your routine. Change your life.

This time tomorrow we'll all be able to eat, drink and socialise in a cleaner atmosphere. I won't light a fag to that change but i will raise a drink.

Support service

I've just seen 42 souls pour out of a Bingo Hall for a fag break. It's a hard habit to break. (Chicago in 1984 - it got to No.8 in the charts). One report from inside is that the company (others are available) are struggling to come to terms with the changes (David Bowie - never released as a single surprisingly).

Now, the number caller has to allow players (other brands are available) to nip outside for a quick intake of bad air. That means the company loses money with no players playing bingo. Hmmm. What to do asks one part-time player. The company has other things, at a cost, available to non-smokers, the smokers feel aggrieved and, according to statistics and the only winners are the cigarette firms.

Why? Smokers have less time to smoke so make the most of the few minutes of break from the game. They smoke less but not fewer cigarettes. Makes you angry, doesn't it?

I'm getting e-mails and texts on a daily basis on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke Breakfast Show.
"Good luck remaining smoke free"
"I'm sick of hearing about smoking. Arghhh"
...and most fall somewhere in between.

Still loving to hear from you and how you are giving up. Colleague Dave is now smoke free and really angry. He's just been through a 'how to a stop smoking' course - successfully. The process focuses on how smoker have been targeted through advertising, very successfully.

Now if Dave's willpower wanes, he thinks to himself: "I don't need or want a cigarette. It's the nicotine talking to me and my body". Now you're smokin'. You're a winner. You're no longer addicted.

These are the views of a man who has recently chosen not to smoke.

Each to their own

A brief chat today, in private, between the three (former) smokers at ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke. The initial idea at the beginning of June was that we'd give up in different ways. Dave on the one day cure-all course, Lynne on the NHS course and me going cold turkey.

A fortnight after stubbing out my last fag I'm still going strong with the occasional wobble. Dave is looking and sounding better after only four days smoke free. Lynne is a bit different. She's like most smokers who really want to give up. There are numerous excuses and reasons NOT to give up, aren't there?

1. My partner smokes (mine too, Lynne)
2. I'll give up when they do... but who'll give up first
3. Well, I can't give up just now because... (in our house it's;
a) my mother is with us for a week
b) we've visitors coming from Brazil and they'll bring fags so what's the point in stopping now
c) my mother-in-law is coming over in early August for a month or so and she'll bring fags... and so on and so forth.

Lynne was cornered by two well meaning non-smokers earlier today. I watched her body language as they 'encouraged' her to stop. Her arms folded defensively. She slinked down in her chair. She averted her gaze.

Which brings me to today's point. If you smoke and you want to give up, do it your way. Do it when you want and how you feel you can give up and stay smoke free - otherwise the nicotine will win.

It's one of the most addictive drugs on the planet. If it was so easy to give up, we'd all do it. Every week. Then we'd start again... and so on. The fundamental difference between wanting to give up, saying you're giving up and actually giving up, I think - is a state of mind, a mode of thinking and a radically new approach to living for you and not for nicotine.

Lynne and I were having a laugh at how her whole life (mine too until 2 weeks ago) was absolutely ruled by windows of smoking opportunity. I'll get up... have a fag. Taxi to work...have a fag. Present the show for three hours... have a fag. Morning meeting and debrief... fag. Lunch... fag. Any old excuse... fag. Pathetic really, isn't it.

My way of breaking the turgid, defeatist slog was to realise in a moment of smoke free clarity that I didn't want a fag - it was the nicotine talking. If I repeated that mantra then I could break the cycle. Change the routine. Change the habit. Change the rules.

Nicotine isn't in charge anymore, YOU are. You don't want, need or crave a cigarette.
IT'S THE NICOTINE TALKING. Say it every single time you feel the need and you'll free yourself... hopefully.

Hooked on... empty life syndrome

My mother has been staying with us for the past week. It's been stressful. For me. For her. Fact. (Still haven't weakly reverted to a fag…but it's been close on a number of occasions).

Why should it be otherwise? She has her way of life. Lifestyle. We have ours. They're different. Neither is better, they're just different. Mum has had withdrawal from her twice weekly fix of the lotto. Like so many people -and sometimes I'm right there with them - she firmly believes she'll actually win it. Every time.

Her world revolves - with respect - to early evening TV soaps. Her week is mapped out by them. That rhythm has been upset when you live in a house with a three year old. One minute it's Cbeebies, the next it's "can I draw a picture with you granny?". I reiterate. It's not right. It's not wrong. It's just different.

Equally, she doesn't smoke. Mum has never smoked. She doesn't understand my (former) fix.

Whether weekly, daily, hourly, or more.

She can't understand. Nor, at times, can I understand how she chooses to live. Governed (as I see it) by TV. And the Lottery. I love my mum as all sons should. I loved cigarettes - not in the same way, obviously.

I am learning to change my ways but I am also understanding the significance of learning to live without fags. I choose life as the author Irvine Welsh was wont to pronounce. Repeatedly.

Do you smell my smoke…get my drift?

Nineteen days... and not trying to count

I haven't written to you for a couple of days. I thought that maybe by NOT writing about giving up cigarettes I'd be able to put my recent cravings aside. And I've been successful. Just.

In the meantime, a chum has fallen off the wagon on a sailing excursion and was bleating down the phone having succumbed to the weed. Amanda Jane has been guilty in the past of actively encouraging me to light up with her - so that she wasn't the lone smoker - and wouldn't be picked on.

She's one of the many thousands who regularly give up smoking. Then regularly start smoking again. Now it's my job to encourage her. I don't feel it's my place as I know she's strong enough to give up on her own. (and I know she reads this and will know I will mock her if she continues to smoke).

How are you getting on if you've chosen to give up?

Nineteen days for me today. I'm trying not to count but for the sake of sharing with you, I had to tally the days in my diary.

Distancing yourself from smoking and smoke related paraphernalia is tough.
Tough when Amanda Jane throws her hands up. Throws the towel in. hrows caution to the wind. And starts smoking again.

Tough when a house full of other chums descend at the weekend (including three smokers). They bring as a gift…a tartan cigarette lighter. What's all that about?

It reminded me of an ex sister-in-law (my family has more than one - no wonder I smoked). So, I had an Alsatian. She died in the November. For a Christmas present I received - wait for this - a ceramic Alsatian model and a wooden pooper scooper. I've still never received an explanation for surely the most inappropriate present in the history of gifts.

Until the tartan ciggy lighter 17 days after giving up fags. Then…then…as they leave - a parting gift. We could only get this brand late last night when we ran out - you have them as we won't smoke them. Byeeeee.

I had to ask my wife to remove them - with the same tone an arachnophobe would wish a colleague to take a hanky and take out Incy Wincy from the loo while they're having a bath.

I'm doing ok though. Amanda Jane needs me. My other chums have gone home.

I'm not going to start smoking again
I'm not going to start smoking again
I'm not going to start smoking again.
Ooohhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Does a time come when you are truly free?

Twenty. Twenty days. A pack of twenty. See... they're not out of my mind yet. I had a lovely text this morning while presenting ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke's breakfast show from a lady saying something along the lines of "don't worry, it won't be long before you beat it."

Question for those who've been smoke free for years. Are you ever 'over it'? Isn't smoking like alcohol. Every day you waken up you're alcohol (or smoke) free for one more day? I truly don't know.

Does a time come when you are truly free from the restraints of nicotine?

With work and life pressures building on most of us on a daily basis, we need to be stronger and better individuals in order to cope with the stresses of the 21st century.

That doesn't mean relying on crutches like alcohol or nicotine. It should centre itself around the important things in life. Family, friends and a positive, upbeat approach to living. Smoke free for me at least… for another day.

Anti-smoking law

You couldn't make it up really, could you?

I waken up this morning to find the national Red Top's are (yet again) pointing the finger of inadequacy at Stoke-on-Trent City Council.

Technically the worst council in England. And, according to the popular press, the only council in England who forgot to give themselves the powers to fine people for flouting the anti-smoking law.

Over the past few hours, pubs have been re-igniting the debate - and punters have been relighting their fire in the mistaken belief that they can smoke in public enclosed spaces. They can't. You can't. It's the law.

I got the boss of the enforcement at the council onto the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke breakfast show at this morning to clarify things and swat away the smokey smog hanging over the city. Peter Devanney was shaking his head like a nodding dog in the back of a 70's Ford Consul.

There are some things you just don't need to add to the pressure of getting through the day, implementing the law - or giving up cigarettes.

Of course the papers have got it wrong.
Of course you can't smoke in a public enclosed space.
Of course you'll be fined thousands if you're a proprietor.
Of course you can still be fined if you choose to flout the law.
Of course you shouldn't believe everything you read.

Sharing

I've just been re-reading all your fantastic comments (at the bottom of this page - scroll down for yourself in a minute). You've been sharing your ways of successfully giving up …why you should be allowed to continue smoking if you wish… supporting anyone who is trying to give up… and giving top tips on how best to end the habit.

Hypnosis. Herbal cigarettes. Patches. Gum. Specialist courses. Cold turkey.
You know, it doesn't really matter how you give up. It's wanting to do it that matters.

It's been a week or two since I hinted that the third of the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Stoke triumverate (Lynn) had been goaded in a corner of the office as I had (until now) successfully stopped by going 'cold turkey' and Dave had undergone a 'specialist course' and saw the light if not the lighter.

Well, I can (quietly) announce that, despite Lynn's partner continuing to inhale on a regular basis, she has… shhhhhh… not smoked one fag for about a week. Hoorah we say in hushed tones. As I've mentioned, what might work for you won't necessarily be the way for others. Now, how do I find a way… any way… that works for my wife?

Back to (whatever is) normal

We're all creatures of habit. We waken. Ablute. Dress. Assess that all our bits are still in order. Plan the day. Eat. Go through our individual routine. Sleep again.

My ticklist, until 26 days ago involved smoking cigarettes. Quite a few of them, as it happens.

The first of the day came somewhere after ablute and before eat... and so the millstone of the day started grinding. I feel that (to continue the depressing analogy) the yoke around my neck has been lifted. (Within the image, I was the donkey turning the mill grinder - and cigarettes were my yoke. I'll stop it now).

I woke up this morning with the sun shining through the window. I'd take a photo to prove it if only I could operate my digi-camera. The first words I heard were "Mummy, come and look at me".

Well, it wouldn't be 'daddy come and look' because for the past 9 weeks I've been presenting the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Stoke breakfast show, 6 days a week. The little one had formed her morning routine. Without daddy.

It was great fun presenting the daily breakfast show knowing it was always going to be temporary. This morning, my routine returned to whatever one would consider normal. Waking up with your family. Getting my princess ready for school. Having breakfast. Planning the day. Not having a cigarette.

Embracing your family rather than embracing nicotine. That's an addictive habit that feels good.

Grump

My Scottish Presbyterian heritage means that I can be a bit of a curmudgeon. Take away cigarettes and the grump-o-meter needle finds more opportunities to shoot off the scale.

We are sometimes too quick to drag ourselves down if what we planned goes awry.
Equally, when the stars align and all you had hoped for comes to fruition then that event should be celebrated to the Heavens.

My ethos of keeping your feet planted firmly on the ground is reflected in the Presbyterian 'ladder of success' - namely, that every time you climb a rung, that rung then becomes the bottom rung. Nuts, isn't it?

My wife and I both received great news, amazing news, news we both really wanted over the last few days. I asked if she wanted Champagne -and if I could smoke one cigarette. Did you see what I did? She got the wonderful news, I raised my hands, rolled out the bubbly... then tried to sneakily have a fag. Pathetic it was. And still is.

Sharon's comments below are spot on. You just want to be left in a room where no-one can witness you damaging whatever has been left in there with you. Now, a mallet and a scrapyard. Can I join you?

TV smoking

I was watching some mind-numbing TV last night. Out of choice. I didn't want to have to think. An ad break came on and I couldn't even be bothered to switch over as usual.

A pouting girl astride a motorbike roared out of the backlit smoke-filled scene declaring that you can lose the smoke and keep the fire. I was checking out what model the bike was amid the haze of imagery

The comedy came back on and both characters were smoking (Two pints of lager… as you might ask). Now, something weird happened. I would have normally seen the trigger and gone for a fag. Now, smoke-free, I was aware that my eyes were drawn to anywhere on the screen apart from the fingers and mouths of the actors.

As I was walking to work today, I passed a huddle of smokers - what will this new collective noun be best known as? I ask rhetorically as the ´óÏó´«Ã½ is now 'competition-less' of course.
Perhaps in order to distance myself from the 'tainted ones', all I could smell as I wafted past was horrible. All I could see was hunched, coughing, wrinkled, gnarled ugly people. I'd saved £170 in the month since I've stopped smoking. That's £2,040 I'll have saved by next June. Smokers... are you nuts? I asked internally.

**

I reached work smelling fresh, with clean lungs, money in my pocket and (almost) addiction free. My wife has promised she'll be equally smoke free by the end of August. The sun was shining. "Mr. Bluebird's on my shoulder", I whistled…"it's the truth, it's actual… everything is satisfactual".

I then felt guilty that I'd become the self righteous ex-smoker for the first time. In fairness, it was a defence mechanism to distance myself from the enemy - nicotine. I've stopped myself having jaundiced views on why other people smoke though. Best just keep yourself to yourself and take each day - 30 smoke free days so far - as it comes.

Give me time

Another weekend achieved and I've passed the one Month Smoke Free Mark. I had some chocolate and crisps bought 'for the house' yesterday by my better half.

Destroyed the brown stuff in the space of a cup of tea last night and am now concerned that - as happened the last time I gave up fags - I have a replacement strategy that involves stuffing something else in my mouth and that lards on the weight!

I'm pretty intolerant of excess weight as I've always been prone to adding to the waistline. I need time to either create or discover a strategy of cigarette replacement OR (hopefully) I can just forget about them and be happy not shoving a fag, a crisp, a choc bar in my capacious gob.

Your comments continue to inspire others along with me. And, (I should have expected it) the ladies are far better at either admitting their failings or sharing their situations.

Actually, since 1st July, I've found it harder to continue talking about maintaining a smoke-free existence. That's why the passing of significant dates has helped.
I'll take on any advice regarding the continued success of this smoke blog
No.1 in the UK and No.6 across the world tells me there continues to be a huge interest in the subject.

That and the fact that Paula has just shared her success along with Janine. Well done both. Keep making contact and keep sharing all the ideas. You just don't know how many people (one would prove significant) you might be helping.

Sad souls say so much

I've been away so apologies for not sharing up and down moments recently.

There were torrential and sporadic down-pourings of rain yesterday as I was driving home (having bought a garden table now the better weather is here!). I passed a pub and saw, in between sweeps of the wipers at full throttle, five huddled souls under a newly erected, temporary structure beside a pub. Smoking. I didn't know how to react...

Glad I wasn't a smoker anymore.
How pathetic are they… those smokers.
How bad a drug is nicotine that it drives people to stand and accept further ostracisation from the mainstream than smokers had hitherto been subjected to before the new smoking laws were enforced in England.

I reverted to the first option.
With a young family, I'm not a regular in pubs and restaurants so haven't really noticed any big differences - in clean air/atmosphere or bar takings talk since the 1st July. I'd be delighted to hear your experiences and thoughts since the changes came in. Please take time to write below for others to read.

I also felt I had to update today as I had a major wobble a couple of days ago. My wife (soon to be an ex-smoker) left one welcoming cigarette with a come hither lean poking it's smiling brown head out of a packet next to the washing machine - perched on a window sill where my better half now considerately takes her ever decreasing puffs.

I was so close to one of those - "ahhhh what the He**" moments, but curbed my enthusiasm. As I came through the door into the kitchen, my eyes were parallel to the top of the fridge where another lone fag had been placed. That was nearly the game up. Thankfully I breathed in and reminded myself it wasn't a game of hide (fag) and seek (cig). My wife had simply secreted one away as smokers do and had forgotten it (like a nonogenarian squirrel) because it was outside her eye level.

Once I had made sense of the situation, I settled for a scotch. A long, wet one. That did the trick on this occasion and I only hope there aren't many more.

I smoked a fag...

So I smoked fag yesterday. In fact, I felt so guilty, I smoked another one.

And here come the inevitable excuses...

• My in-laws arrived from abroad with copious amounts of Brazilian cigarettes. This reminded me of my time living in Brazil and enjoying smoking the cigarettes.

It's easy to turn to other vices.

• Both my mother-in-law and my wife are smokers. My m-i-l didn't know I'd given up and hadn't seen us for three years so was being typically demonstrative and Latino in her behaviour running around the house with a wafting hand permanently attached to a cigarette - having spent almost 24 hours flying denied of the privilege, she was making up for lost opportunity.

• The two large slabs of fags were left lying on the kitchen table with the recognisable logo on them - as I passed for the umpteenth time.

• As we were having a celebratory reunion, duty free whisky was taken.
  Still no excuse I know but I enjoyed them.

I lit the first one at 7.30pm and slithered out the front door and sat on the doorstep sucking in as if there were no tomorrow. As soon as it was stubbed out the guilt pangs overcame me. It took a further hour before the second one was set on fire.

And here I am in the office nearly 24 hours later and wondering what I'll do when I get home.
I hope I don't have a cigarette...

The rapid decline

The cigarette I took last Thursday evening became a few on Friday. By Sunday I found myself descending back to my old, filthy habit. I had one for breakfast on Monday and Tuesday and by today I've brought a pack into work with me.

What are my thoughts on those gathering like lemmings outside buildings for a fag in the cold? I was standing beside them today wondering what happened. Remembering my disdain at their weakness.

Inhale.Ìý Shaking my head in the negative at how ridiculous they looked.Ìý Exhale.Ìý Counting myself, once again amongst the battery of life's unfortunates.

**

Inhale. Feeling down. Exhale. Stub out.
If only I could.

**

Nicotine, I remind myself - and you - is one of the most addictive substances known.
My wife says she's giving up by the end of the month when she starts her new job.
I will obviously be giving up too. Again.

I've got plenty of experience. Having given up smoking on three occasions this year alone, I am after all, an expert on the matter.

Here we go again

First of all, thank you for all your comments [the Messageboard is further down this page].
I read them - absorb them - and try to put your encouragement into practise. So keep writing and letting me know how you're getting on.

What pushes your button? Keeps you going? Makes you do - and maintain the difficult things in life, like smoking?
Some are harangued into it. Others are encouraged. Some need abuse. Many are scared or shocked into action. While still more have to do it their way.

Ta Robert for the uplift. Jeff for his continued monitoring. There'll be no cigar but hopefully a drink of celebration. AJ - you're right. Apology. But you WILL say well done to me soon. Very soon.

I could, of course tell you that I started smoking again after 50 days abstinence as I needed a reason to maintain the blog. But I'd be lying and if you lie to yourself or others you're only kidding yourself.

Life is well as I know that in a matter of days my wife is giving up - and I will join her. Together. Supporting each other.

**

We competed to destroy the 400 pack 'gift' brought recently by a well meaning relative. They were dispatched with full, if misguided approbation. No more. Surely.

In defence, I share that I'm actually an expert of giving up. I've now done it three times with temporary success in 2007 alone.

Within a couple of days, our relationship, mood and personal health will be challenged as we hopefully compete to stop - again! Stop. Terminate. Finish. Complete. Desist.

End

+++

Postscript

Editor writes:.... A sad end to a brave attempt then.Ìý Or so you would think. Lamont's attempt to give up somoking after a three-month trial crashed, as you can see.

However.Ìý We gave good news.Ìý Now, a year later, we went back to Lamont to ask if he had ever tried again. And he had....
This is what he told us:

"...Here we are, 2009, and it's bizarre reading back to comments written here as I attempted to first give up smoking in 2007.
Foreign visitors brought bus loads of cheap fags as gifts in late summer and I fell to the weed again.

It took me until my birthday in June 2008 to stub out my last cigarette (hopefully) for ever. A combination of my daughers complaints about the smell and my physical slowing crawl towards my 50th birthday gave me the impetus to stubbornly stub out without any gum, patch or hypnosis.

ÌýThat left my wife as sole family smoker and on her birthday in Decemebr 2008 she too followed suit and we cleaned up our act, our health and our daughter's future.

It feels good...."

Congratulations Lamont!!