John Capener

I dare say, each of us, like Keith Melville, have had our own journey with tobacco, (Beacon Opinion, July 15).

Mine started and finished about 60 years ago.

Seduced as I was by the promise via those short promos that used to play before the interval at the movies that if I smoked a particular brand of cigarette I would become a sophisticated cool guy who could sit at a roulette table in a tuxedo while a bevy of beautiful ladies in evening gowns would hover at my side.

The reality was that smoking made me vomit.

On my second “conversation down the big white telephone” the penny dropped that maybe smoking wasn’t that cool.

That is why, I for one, have some sympathy for those who are hopelessly addicted.

However, I do not adopt the attitude that they are the author of their own misery, rather that they too bought the lie that they would be part of the “in crowd” and now need all the help that they can get to quit, even if it means raising the price to fund the programmes that help them reach that goal.

Some call the extra price a tax, others a “levy” .

Smoking is not a “righty’” or “lefty” issue, but one we should all be concerned about, especially when it means that a hospital bed is denied a person because of someone else’s smoking-related illness.

It’s not all bad news, though. I remember back in the day visiting my in-laws, who were smokers.

It may have been the lingering smell of cigarettes, but whenever they were cooking a roast, it always smelt yummier. Go figure.