Just Say No: the tobacco public service warning, in Daddy's Corolla

In the car, on the way to school, this morning, Daniel did a little imitation for me.  He took one of his mini-pretzel-sticks and told me that he was going to imitate someone smoking.  At first, I wasn't pleased, but suddenly, I came to appreciate the performance;  he took a long, slow "drag" on his thin little pretzel stogie, and then suddenly let off an extremely realistic, unexaggerated and yet authentically disturbing little cough.

Meanwhile, Madeleine commented that she had seen one of those "smoking thingies" on the ground - either the recess yard or a playground.  I was very curious about what the smoking thingy might be, and I was absolutely thrilled to discover that this was the closest she could produce to approximate the word "cigarette."  It reminded me of all that time - years, no doubt - when Ian and Daniel called cigarettes "cigars," because they weren't familiar with the more delicate, francophonish cousin to the butt-ugly [sorry] category of "cigar".  Madeleine's ignorance of the word "cigarette," made me about as proud as I was when Ian was in first grade (I think it was), and he told me that "the clown from McDonald's" had come to his school.  If a child doesn't know the terms "cigarette," or "Ronald McDonald," a parent really seems to have something to celebrate.

I was also happy that I mentioned tobacco, Madeleine - and also Daniel, maybe - didn't seem to know that category either.

Of course, the driver took the opportunity to air a public service propaganda commercial about the evils of smoking.  I even went into the dire warnings about second hand smoke - something I never took seriously in my youth, but now that it's their lungs which could be vulnerable, even a bit of hyperbole is acceptable - not to mention the fact that maybe all those activists really are correct on that point as well.  I went through as many cancers as I could think of - lung, throat and - most dramatically - cancer of the larynx.  That one has special propaganda payoff, because it gave me the chance to tell them about that outlandishly metallic-sounding "voice machine" - or whatever it's called - which people use to simulate vocalization after their larynxes have been removed due to this form of cancer.  Needless to say, I readily volunteered an imitation of this application of technology for them.

But then, Daniel immediately told me something that put all my fears at rest.  He said that whenever he and Ian are around somebody who's smoking, they always hold their breath.  But it's not too much of an imposition, he told me (in his own words), because they only end up having to do so "about once every two weeks."

I'm very happy that the lads' lungs are well protected!

(April 6, 2015)