Mixed Smoke Signals

Odd as this may sound, one of the most pleasant aromas on earth is the smell of tobacco. I don’t like smoke and there is nothing worse than coming out of a smoke filled venue with the smell of stale cigarettes clinging to my cloths, but to stick my nose in a can of tobacco or smell a freshly open pack of cigarettes takes me to a happy time and place long past. Kind of odd, don’t you think, for a guy who has never in his life smoked (anything) and has made a point of telling other’s to abstain. Perhaps the picture below is the key to the riddle of my ambivalence toward tobacco.

Apparently, I became less tolerant of the stuff as I matured as evidenced by this little story passed on by Patty:

Grandma used to love to tell the story of when you visited as a little boy and quite sternly said to Grandpa when he was smoking:  "My Dad don't smoke -- we're Mormon!"   It gave her a chuckle at the time, and she repeated it over and over through the years.

Incredibly, after all these years, I have distinct memories of sitting on Grandpa’s lap and rifling through his shirt pockets. Of course there was always a deck of smokes and pack of Chicklets, another smell that evokes memories, and if I’m not mistaken, from time to time, the sweet smell of whatever he might have had a nip of that day.

                                          Michael Ursaki