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Worst Personal Reflection on One's Generation Ever

IIRC my mom said she started smoking at age 13 or 14. :eek:

If I've ever asked, I don't remember, but I'd be willing to bet my parents did, too.
Heck, even when I was in high school (85-89), they gave us 10 minutes between clashes so students could go out back and smoke. I guess it finally dawned on someone they were giving 14-year-olds smoke breaks.
 
If I've ever asked, I don't remember, but I'd be willing to bet my parents did, too.
Heck, even when I was in high school (85-89), they gave us 10 minutes between clashes so students could go out back and smoke. I guess it finally dawned on someone they were giving 14-year-olds smoke breaks.
I was in high school basically the same years (86-90) and our school had a "senior" smoking area right outside the cafeteria (supposedly only for high school seniors … yeah, right). It was allowed in Illinois and the people living near the school liked it because it meant fewer cigarette butts on their front lawns.
 
I busted open my first pack of Benson and Hedges 30 years ago in February and puffed away until the dentist scared me enough to quit (the habit already had a foot in the grave with me but the beginning stages of gingivitis finished it off) in April of 2010. It's fascinating to look at how prevalent it was then.

We had smoking sections everywhere.
We had smoking on airplanes.
My first four cars had multiple ashtrays with lighters.
We had Marlboro and Winston ads in the sports stadiums.
DORM ROOMS had smoking and smoke free floors.
 
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I busted open my first pack of Benson and Hedges 30 years ago in February and puffed away until the dentist scarred me enough to quit (the habit already had a foot in the grave with me but the beginning stages of gingivitis finished it off) in April of 2010. It's fascinating to look at how prevalent it was then.

We had smoking sections everywhere.
We had smoking on airplanes.
My first four cars had multiple ashtrays with lighters.
We had Marlboro and Winston ads in the sports stadiums.
DORM ROOMS had smoking and smoke free floors.

We used to be a proper forking country before wokeness canceled smoking.
 
I busted open my first pack of Benson and Hedges 30 years ago in February and puffed away until the dentist scarred me enough to quit (the habit already had a foot in the grave with me but the beginning stages of gingivitis finished it off) in April of 2010. It's fascinating to look at how prevalent it was then.

We had smoking sections everywhere.
We had smoking on airplanes.
My first four cars had multiple ashtrays with lighters.
We had Marlboro and Winston ads in the sports stadiums.
DORM ROOMS had smoking and smoke free floors.
B&H? Wow. I had my Camel straights until I was sick of sucking wind playing basketball and soccer.
 
My mom smoked unfiltered Raleigh cigarettes, couple packs a day. That was until a couple of cancer scares. She stopped smoking, but was a nervous wreck the rest of her life until she died from a stroke at age 73. Weird, if I can survive another 6 months, I will surpash her age, and I've never smoked anything my whole life (except I did live in a heavy smoker's house until I got into college).

One of the nicknames for the local junior college was "high school with ashtrays."
 
Where I went to grad school, the bathroom stalls had ashtrays. I can't fathom taking a dump while enjoying a smooth lucky Strike.

Before I got there, the school still allowed smoking in the building, but in this glash enclosed room like airports had eight before the total ban.
 
I took my daughter to an appointment today and as we left the parking lot, I saw two people taking a smoke break. Couldn't remember the last time I saw someone taking a smoke break.
 
I tried smoking as a teen, and can't claim any virttue, I hated the taste so I stopped. I don't suppose weed tastes much better, but for some reason, that's never bothered me.
 
I dipped Skoal in high school, and going out with friends on the weekend we'd get a starter pack of Marlboro Light. After a few weeks, I kinda started liking it, but I quit. I had one bad habit and reckoned I didn't need a second one. I dipped until May 1993, when I quit cold turkey and haven't has one since.
 
Not really generation related, but sort of.
I came across a picture of myself taken Jan. 6, 1990 - exactly 35 years ago today - at Gatorland in Florida.
Old Florida was fun.
 
My dad, and maybe mom, too, would smoke in the middle of the night. They didn't have a bedspread without cigarette burns. It's a wonder they never burned the house down.

My paternal grandmother died before I was born. She fell asleep on the couch with a lit cigarette, set fire to the couch and the apartment burned. She somehow lived through it, and even attended my parents' wedding, but died a few months afterward.
 

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