...I feel the need to brag a bit.
03:36 CST this morning marked 45 years since my last cigarette! I am quite happy about this, I must say.
I was doing sound, follow spot, and pyrotechnics for "Holidaze, Featuring Doc & Linda Holiday", a lounge act working 6 sets a night, 6 nights a week on the Midwest hotel circuit -on -ct.Fri & Sat the 5th & 6th sets were the "Las Vegas Style Floor Show". Meaning Doc wore an orange-and-chartreuse sequined jumpsuit while Linda wore a matching disco-chick "knock-me-down-and-do-me" dress, and I rode the follow spot a lot more while he would take you on a history of US pop music - like how rock'n'roll replaced swing because the economy went bad in the '50s and no one could afford the big bands of the '30s & '40s anymore..... Doc's big plan was to keep doing that until he was discovered, so he could make an album and go play Vegas.
Yeah, it was a really shite gig. But, it was a gig.
We had the last week of Jan & the first of Feb booked in Minot, ND (Why not Minot? Freezin's the reason!) None of us cried when it cancelled - but all the agency could find was that the Osh Kosh TraveLodge would let us stay and rehearse free for 2 weeks in exchange for 2 nights of shows at the end; sold!
But first, it turned out, the guitar player had to go back to Dayton to see his parole officer (he apparently had not sufficiently vetted the person to whom he sold some booger sugar......). On the way to meet up with us, his van broke, so he had to get a job to pay for the repairs - so no practice.
We'd wake up early afternoon (like rockers will), and sit around smoking cigarettes and joints until the bar opened, when we'd go down & drink and smoke cigarettes until closing. Then we'd repair back to a room to recommence on the cigs-and-doobs thing until we started falling over. I will note that this schedule did put me a bit ahead of my then-usual 5-packs-a-day habit, and at 03:36 Feb 3, I ran out. I sat there gasping for breath and trying to figure out where I could get more in the wee hours of a Sunday in Osh Kosh. And I crumpled the empty pack and launched it at the trash can saying "f*** it; I'm done!" And I was done, from that second.
Even though I was working in pre-smoking-ban bars nightly at the time - and for another 6 years & change thereafter - I haven't wanted one since that last one - when I'm awake.
I still dream that I'm smoking again, and that I've have been on & off this whole time.
Peter