On Second Thought, Smoke.

Yul Brynner
July 11, 1920 - Oct. 10, 1985
When Yul Brynner found out he had cancer, he was upset. And he should have been. But he shouldn't have been surprised, he'd been a smoker all his life.

So he does an interview, and I think it was a Barbara Walters interview, during which he pleads with people to stop smoking. He dies not long after, and the segment where he begs people not to smoke plays as a public service announcement from the Cancer Society, or something.

Years later, on an episode of my podcast, I altered the audio so he's begging people to smoke. I did it because it's funny, and because smoking is cool.

Say what you will about smoking. It causes cancer? It surely does. Emphysema? Absolutely. Heart disease and early death? Yep.

But it's freakin' cool. No doubt about it.

Now, I don't smoke. It's not that I necessarily care about my health, it's that I can't pull it off. I tried it, but I am not cool. Never was.

Smokers, who used to constitute a large sector of the American public, have been relegated to second-class citizens at best. You can't smoke in a building, any building, not even a bar. In most places you can't even smoke outside. There will come a time in the future when you can't even smoke in your own home. It's sad.

I say, smoke if you want to smoke. I don't believe all that crap about second-hand smoke, and I actually kind of like the smell. The last pack of cigarettes I bought cost me about $1.75. If I wanted to smoke now, the same pack would cost me around six dollars. If you're paying that much, you should be able to smoke in church. In a time of recession, you are supporting the economy. You are one tax-paying sumbitch.

As I say, I don't smoke...so I'll no doubt die from some other form of cancer. I do respect the level of commitment it takes to be a full-time smoker, but I couldn't afford it. Anybody who can spend $30-$50 a week on smokes, knowing they'll die from them, that's devotion.

No doubt about it, Yul Brynner was cool. Shaved bald head, thick accent, weird sex appeal. And a cigarette. It was a package deal. He lived large in a time when everyone smoked. It was not only acceptable, it was what everyone did. He was a movie star...traveled the world, made a lot of money, banged a lot of chicks. He was a badass.

Complaining about dying to Barbara Walters at the age of 68 after having such a great life just makes you look like a pussy.