Come In Here, Dear Boy, Have a Cigar, You're Gonna Go Far

This, to most people, is a fold-down arm rest.

(Original photo stolen from these guys)

In the cars of my childhood there were always two arm rests which folded down independently, and which we called The Two Things. When The Two Things were folded down together they formed a nifty little platform from which to launch small children through the windshield, or, more commonly, a comfy place for my little brother to ride. This was in 1971 and there was no seat belt for a passenger of The Two Things.

(I was sure I'd told you this story before, but maybe not.)

My brother Mantel Man, the one who grew up to climb Mt. Whitney and hike the Himalayas, the very same brother who had a career as a Navy bombardier/navigator pulling Gs in a plane that sometimes flew upside down -- THAT Mantel Man -- was prone to carsickness as a little fellow.

I know. But wait, it gets better.

The only way he kept his nausea at bay on long car trips was by watching the road from the front seat, between my two parents, one of whom was smoking a cigar.* There rode Little Mantel Man, perched on The Two Things, watching the road, breathing cigar smoke and trying not to barf.

Only it was the motion sickness that tended to make Little Mantel Man green, and not the cigar smoke. I sat in the back seat mostly unaffected by the curvy mountain roads of the Coast Range or the Sierras, but green around the gills from the White Owls or Tiparillos that Dad smoked only on car trips.



(Photo stolen from these guys)

Not Little Mantel Man. He liked the noxious smoke.

Yes he did.

And he pestered our dad to let him have a puff. Dad, of course, said NO, because Little Mantel Man? He was only FOUR on the day this story took place. NO you may not have a puff. NO you may not have your own cigar. NO.

Until . . .

Oh, all right, Fella, this should put a stop to this nonsense! Here.

And Dad handed his stogie to Little Mantel Man.

Who liked it, of course.

And continued to puff on this stogie as we cruised along, Mom becoming more and more agitated with the backfired lesson as the minutes dragged on and Little Mantel Man smoked that stogie. And smoked it and smoked it.

And cars passed and stared at us. Stared at the skinny 4-year-old with the so-large head, enthroned on The Two Things like a little prince and puffing away at a White Owl cigar stub. Did they even notice the woozy 5-year-old secondhand smoke victim in the back seat? Doubtful.

The thing that put an end to this disastrous attempt to outsmart a child -- the last straw for Mom -- was the car whose passengers glared fiercely at us as they passed.

In 1969 some of the passing cars might have given my parents a thumbs up for bucking The Man and letting their kid smoke out.

In 1979 those people would have flipped my parents off.

In 1989 they would have used their huge car phones to call the police to report child abuse.

In 1999 they might have taken a shot at us in a fit of drive-by road rage

. . . but in 2009 they'd be on their iPhones to CNN and YouTube with video footage.

My how the world has changed.

Please don't let your 4-year-olds smoke cigars. And if you do, just make sure you're the fastest car on the road so no one can pass you and glare at you. Thank you for your time. This has been a public service message from Foolery.


*Hint: not Mom.

Comments

[Da Goddess]

We had that very same conversation regarding my grandfather's pipe. Or rather, my grandfather and I did. I threw up after. But I still love the smell of pipe tobacco and anyone who has a pipe is usually someone I end up talking to.

By the way, I was about 4, too.

[Auds at Barking Mad]

I turned green just *thinking* about the cigar smoke. I can NOT stand cigar smoke. Oiy vey!

I think I'm going to be ill just thinking about windy roads and cigar smoke. I either have to be driving, or sound asleep in the car to avoid severe car sickness.

Oh boy. the drive down to VA for blogfest is going to be interesting...especially considering Meg will be driving for part of it.

[Meg]

My mom and dad smoked cigs in the front while my sister and I made gagging noises and heavy sighs and pleas for mercy from the back seat. "MEH, the window's down," they'd say. We were both prone to carsickness too, and the smoke didn't help. I never, ever wanted to try it. When during college, I took one puff on one cigarette, offered to me during a stressful finals week, I decided it tasted like my parents' ashtrays smelled, and that was the end of that.

Big car phones. Heh!

[Suzanne Broughton]

I seriously don't know what I did without you and your parenting advice.

[Mantel Man]

Hilarious story! I suppose "Mantel Man" might once have been known as "Chimney Boy." However, I can't stand even to be around cigars today.

Our station wagon had another cool seating option: The Way Back, with its rear-facing seat. On one trip home from a visit to our grandparents' home in Fort Bragg, north of San Francisco, we were allowed to sit there and enjoy the fresh air through the open rear window. Facing backward on the curvy road was pretty cool for the first - oh, 2 miles. After that I left a trail of Trix cereal all the way to Willits.

I wonder if any motorists later said, "Look, Ethel, they re-striped the road! Funny color, though - is that Raspberry Red?"

[Jason]

This is one of your best pots ever. So funny! Yet ridiculously dangerous in so many ways! But so funny.

[big hair envy]

I LOVE your chronology of what would have happened in each different year....we have become the United States of the Offended!!!

Does your brother remember this story, or has he completely blocked it??!

[foolery]

Hi Peoples!

CBW, my dad actually smoked only on car trips. A few years later, however, he developed a cigarette habit for a while, but quit cold turkey when he felt too attached. And yes, there were some gnarly winding roads between us and half or our relatives.

Kathi, Mom didn't like the cigar smoke any more than I did. The irony is, about once every 2-3 years I will actually smoke a cigar, with the right people in the right situation.

MT, that would have made me into a life-long NON-smoker! But I guess tobacco has unexpected effects on different people.

Sorry about the dueling banjos, Miss Petunia. I try not to use music too much, but I just HAD to use it for that post. Still hanging around.

Thanks Elaina!

Hey Grandma J! My parents were actually very gifted in reverse psychology and all manner of parenting tactics, but Dad got it WRONG this time. : )

Hi Tiffany -- guess what? YOU'RE RIGHT. My siblings and I have been life-long non-smokers, with the exception of the aforementioned celebratory cigar now and then. And the funny thing is when my dad took up casual smoking a few years later, his kids tried REALLY hard to make him quit. He pretty much forced me to take a puff, and of course I choked, so I think his tactics were brilliant. Though unpleasant.

Thanks for reading and entertaining me with your comments, as always, my friends.

-- Laurie @ Foolery

[Tiffany T]

Wait! Did The Mantel Man become a smoker? See? This might be the most brilliant lesson on how to keep your kids from smoking.

Thing One and Thing Two have nothing on your Two Things. Hilarious.

[grandma j]

I love those stories about parental freedoms, regardless of whether they were right or wrong.

Both of my parents smoked like chimneys with all five of us kids in the car. Is it a wonder we all became smokers?

[Cactus Petunia]

The imagery, coupled with "Dueling Banjos"
had me in stitches!

[Elaina]

Such a funny story. Love it!

[MommyTime]

Once my sister, about age four, tried to emulate our cigarette-smoking father. He'd run into the convenience store for something (probably more cigarettes), and she climbed into the driver's seat and steered that wheel for all she was worth. Then she grabbed a ciggy out of the pack and shoved it into her mouth. Backwards. All the little threads of tobacco came out in her mouth, and she gagged and spat and was done. But she was a smoker for a while in college. Personally, I blame that first taste.

[Kathi D]

I was SO hoping it was Mom.

[Chesapeake Bay Woman]

Something tells me that Dad's smoking career was not limited to car rides, and possibly not even to cigars, but regardless these family stories--especially the ones which include your Dad--really make me laugh.

I'm car sick just reading this, especially the part about the windy mountain roads.

Pass the cigar.