Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

We were gathered at Arnold’s house in Palmyra one evening. I think I was the only kid present and everyone was sitting around the living room listening to an album on the record player. I recall it was something comedic, perhaps Cheech & Chong (my parents didn’t go out of their way to shield us from questionable material). So, as it was the adults all smoked back then and smoked they did in the living room with the windows closed (it was kinda cold out at the time). Eventually cigarette smoke fills the air in the room and I complain that it’s burning my eyes. I was told “If you don’t like it, go outside.” Apparently they didn’t go out of their way to shield us from the health hazard of second-hand smoke, either.

I used to play around with whatever smoldering butts I found in whatever ash trays were around the house, though I knew without somebody telling me that the whole smoking deal was nasty business. Eventually everybody quit smoking for good, except Mom who, in time, took it up again.