It Was A Pleasure
Reeollpplions from the glory days of
tobacco and some stories the Surgeon
General has never told.
By TRIAD STEM. JK.
Remember the innocuous ad that
said "I’d walk a mile for a Camel?"
The significance attaches to that un¬
pretentious word "walk." There was
nothing surreptitious in the undertak¬
ing. The man wasn't slipping around.
He loved to smoke cigarettes and he
was proud to announce his intention.
Or you may remember some of the
cigarette ads that said "We Are To¬
bacco Men. Not Medicine Men.” The
manufacturer didn't contend, as
Rachael (Mrs. Andy) Jackson con¬
tended. that smoking was a sure cure
for bronchial ailments. No. and it
wasn't cracked up to alleviate back
aches.
And you may remember those ultra
romantic, chic movies in which Paul
Henricd. the charming French impor¬
tation. lighted two cigarettes simul¬
taneously. one for himself and one for
Fair Helen. And here again emphasis
was on disarming pleasure, on physical
rapport. The blue rings from the two
cigarettes were secular signets binding
the lovers, certainly for the time being.
Without the cigarettes the breathless
scene between Henried and Ingrid
Bergman was short one gaping dimen¬
sion.
Kipling's observation in The Be¬
trothed could have christened the 20th
century: "A woman is only a woman
but a cigar is a good smoke."
It is in his classic. Anatomy of
Melancholy, in which Robert Burton
1 1577-1640) exudes magic smoke rings
from both nostrils, his mouth, and his
pores: “Tobacco, rare, divine,
superexcellent tobacco, which goes far
beyond all the panaceas, potable gold
and philosopher’s stones, a sovereign
remedy to all disease."
10
(To which the refrain in /IMS Pina¬
fore might be rephrased to chant:
"What, always?" "Well, it seemed
that way part of the time.")
Burton’s hyperbole really isn't out¬
rageous for those full. free, sassy
spirits who remember how it was to tilt
back in one of those porch chairs given
away by Piedmonts to light up without
fear of intimidation by some airline
stewardess, the surgeon-general, or
some wizard from H.E.W.’s alphabet
soup.
Today, when gratitude is likely to be
as short as a hangman's sense of
humor, it may be difficult for many
bamboozled people to remember that
for much of the 20th century there was
bountiful gratitude because tobacco
was so vital in regional and national
economy. And it isn't anachronistic to
state that millions used tobacco for
pleasure, that they exulted in this plea¬
sure. and there was never any extenua¬
tion or dim-witted attempt at specious
justification.
Smoking is capital pleasure. It al¬
ways was.
The Bishop's Cigar
There is the eternal classic when
Bishop John C. Kilgo, of the Method¬
ist Conference, preached at a rur¬
al church. After his sermon Kilgo
strolled to his car to remove his official
vestments for the dinner-on-thc-
grounds. Almost vacuously, he bit the
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Iff
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The (or ot smoking wos concotured in “A History 01 Smoking" by Count Corb in 1827. 01 "The New Foshion
of Smoking" he wrote, "PuH, putt. It is on oge of putting, putt-putt, putt." (photo courtesy ot N C. Dep’t. ot
Archives ond History)
THE STATE. FEBRUARY 197$
