I had my first clove cigarette in 1983 at a bar on The Hill in Boulder, Colorado. The place was called Pogo’s and it was the place to be seen during the peak of New Wave.

Music, hairstyles, clothing, trends that would last the decade and define directions for years to follow were all part of my lifestyle. I hadn’t expected smoking to be part of my lifestyle though, but those gateway cloves, they were yummy. And trendy. You weren’t cool if you didn’t have one dangling from your lip like Ray Stantz.

From there I moved to Marlboro reds, and stuck with them for 10 years until light cigarettes became a stronger marketing focus of the tobacco companies. They told me they were better for me, and I believed them. All along I knew cigarettes were bad for me. I engaged in various dangerous hobbies, scuba diving, off-roading, motorcycling, I was bullet-proof and figured dying from smoking was for old people.

My Mother smoked for the last 30 years of her life and I remember the day she found out I was smoking. She wasn’t pleased. It wasn’t her that got me hooked, but she blamed herself. I used to drop by her office outside Boulder, where she managed drafters, and I would watch them all drawing and designing amazing things with a cigarette in one hand and a mechanical pencil in the other. Everyone smoked back then. It was accepted in business and in public much like it was at the bar where I first started. My wife smokes too, we met at a bar, smoking, indoors, like so many people did back then. Her mother smoked, and her brother, a sister, her father, a brother-in-law. Everyone smoked.

As I continued to smoke, I realized I did it for the nicotine and the social aspect of smoking. It was all about that hit from the nicotine and the action of holding, smoking, and interacting with the cigarette. They really didn’t taste that great, as manufacturers put less tobacco, and more “everything else” into them, so it was less and less for the advertised “flavor”. I also realized I should quit, because now I was a grown-up with responsibilities. It was going to be an uphill battle.

In 2004, I tried Nicotine (Polacrilex) gum. “This could work” I thought, “this could be my way out of smoking”. It did work, but not the way the package stated it would. “12 weeks” the box told me, and I would be nicotine free.

Twelve weeks turned into 5 years.

My body didn’t want to be nicotine free, much like it doesn’t want to be caffeine free, and quitting gum was harder than quitting cigarettes. Then I started smoking again. Smoking while chewing Polacrilex gum. I had an addiction one could possibly compare to the likes of heroin addiction.