I was a smoker. I'll repeat that: I was a smoker.
I haven't inhaled tobacco smoke for more than three months at the time of writing - hooray for me. (Actually, it will always be 'more than three months' won't it. Never mind...) And that's after smoking for more than thirty years. Three months ago, if you'd been intrusive enough to ask me if I would ever give up smoking, I would have categorically, if a little reluctantly, said no. As far as my will power and addictive personality were concerned, I was going to be a smoker for the rest of my (shortened) life. I enjoyed smoking. Nay, I loved smoking. And all the nagging, badgering and nanny-stating, however well intentioned, would not have diverted me. But, I'll say it again, because I can hardly believe it myself, I was a smoker. I smoke no more. A fag, a ciggy, a tab, a rolly, a snout. Not for me. Not any more, thank you very much. And, will I continue to evade the hideous weed? Hell, yes. And why might that be, pray?
Well, to answer that, I need to provide a tiny bit of background. Don't despair. It won't take long. You'll appreciate it in the end...
Tracy Titivate** is the person, ultimately, I have to thank. You may think, after I have explained, that this is a somewhat tortuous path. But you have to identify a 'turning point' somewhere along the line and for me, Tracy Titivate is it.
You see, Tracy is a presenter on my local radio station. Not a very good one, though. She's the presenter who sits in for superior presenters when they take a holiday, go to a football match (really - one presenter had the night off to go and watch his team play. That's dedication - but not to his job!), go to the dentist, have a raging hangover etc. etc. You get the picture. She doesn't have her own show, doesn't Tracy. And probably never will. She reads the news occasionally, the odd traffic report. She can be found calling in a roving report on a pasty-making competition for the under 12's in a quiet hamlet, somewhere - oh, you know: over there somewhere.
I'm sure that Tracy is a 'nice person'. Her heart's in the right place. (Don't you hate it when people say that? To me, it just means the person afforded this accolade is absolutely useless at everything). And, for a while, I was able to tolerate her 'performance' on the radio.
And now I get to the point! My wonderful wife bought me a DAB radio for Christmas, just before we moved to our current location. I unwrapped this beauty at her parent's house, plugged it in and marvelled at the fifteen or so crystal clear radio stations emanating from its high-quality speaker. Pleased, I was. Chuffed, in fact. For, when we moved, I was to be labouring away on a complete renovation of a little cottage and, naturally, I would require excellent entertainment to be brought to my ears whilst I plastered, demolished, rebuilt, crafted, painted and titivated - oops, last word irony, there.
However - and this is a whopping 'however' - once we were established in our new location, stap me vitals if I couldn't pick up any digital radio stations at all! Not one! On a scale of '1 to annoying', this was infuriating! After some twiddling with the buttons and dials, I discovered that the only radio station I could pick up was the local BBC station - and that was on FM!
Fortunately, very fortunately, this happened to be an excellent radio station. A good mix of entertainment, music, news, local information and a highly entertaining daily phone-in show. All presented by charming, intelligent, amusing, professionals. I was saved! Hallelujah! And so it was that my local BBC radio station entertained me throughout my renovation of the little cottage and beyond. I even phoned in myself on a number of occasions to air my views or to enter a competition. I was smitten!
But then the 'spate' happened. This was a spate that, little did I know, would eventually stop me from smoking. Well, what is this so-called 'spate', you may well ask? You're desperate to know, aren't you? I can feel it. Well, I'll tell you...
This spate occurred over, perhaps, a couple of months. One excellent presenter after another took time off. From between one and three weeks, they disappeared from the airwaves. And Tracy Titivate stood in - or, rather, sat in. Tracy pervaded the silence in my home every day for at least two months straight. Initially, it was tolerable. And I thought that she'd be off the air the following week. But no, Joe Bloggs returns to his regular spot and Arthur Scuttlebucket then decides to take two weeks off, and she's back! Or rather, she's still there, just in a different time slot.
So, what's the problem with poor old Tracy, then? I mean, she's a trier, so what's my beef?
Well, I'll admit to a tendency towards pedantry. But it's not just that. Even those not governed by the devil that is pedantry would become irritated beyond belief, I'm sure. Tracy Titivate seems incapable of speaking a single sentence without tripping over at least one word. Either that or she uses completely the wrong word in a sentence. And yet, she comes across as supremely confident in her verbiage. You forgive the first stumble -and even the second. But, by the time she's six sentences in and six blunders have occurred, your shouting at the radio! Correcting her English, calling her unprintable names.
But it's not just this. I derive a certain egotistical pleasure from correcting supposed professionals, I'll admit it. But there are limits. In the end, it's simply irritating, irksome, bloody annoying! It gets worse, though. Not only does Miss Titivate scramble her way through the English language as though it were a verbal assault course, but it's all about her!!
Whenever she's interviewing someone, she can't help but refer to her own experiences. Oh, you live there do you? I went there once and... Ah, you have one of those, do you? Yes, I have one too and I... And so it goes on. And on, and on, and on. It's all me, me, me, me, me. Dullsville!
You might think that would be enough. But, no. Tracy Titivate is, ostensibly, a professional radio presenter/journalist. Why then, please tell me, oh God, please, please tell me, why does she always ask closed questions? It's simple, Tracy. Who, What, Why, When, Where. I once listened to an entire Tracy Titivate interview in which every question she posed could have been answered either 'yes' or 'no'. Fortunately, for her, the interviewee had some message or other to get across and expanded on his answers accordingly. But, she does it every time. I imagine being interviewed by her and simply answering 'yes' or 'no' if for no other reason than to make someone who matters understand that - she doesn't belong on the radio!
So, what's your point, Grundy? You're asking by now. And how did Tracy Titivate save your life, exactly?
Well, I became irritated to such a degree that it felt like maggots were burrowing their way from my innards to my skin every time I was forced to listen to Tracy Titivate. Ever feel like that? I couldn't take it any more. I just couldn't. So, I prodded the 'Station' button on my DAB radio. 'Turn the dial to tune' it informed me on its little screen. I did. I wasn't expecting to find another station. Not at a listenable clarity, anyway. But, cor blimey guv'nor, if I didn't land on Radio 4! Not what you might describe as clear as a bell, but certainly clear and static-free enough to listen to without becoming brick-through-the-window stressed.
Breathes enormous sigh of relief. And so it was that I became a Radio 4 fan, listening from first thing in the morning until I switched it off when we settled in for our evening meal. I had listened to Radio 4 occasionally in the past - mostly the 6:30 pm comedy programmes, but also PM. But my eyes (or rather, ears) had been opened. Radio 4 - informative, entertaining, amusing, hard-hitting, cultural, eye-wateringly funny, educational, incisive. Why had I been wasting my time listening to Tracy Titivate?
So, it was Tracy Titivate forcing me to turn the tuning dial who caused Radio 4 to become the background and foreground to my daily life.
Great. Fascinating. But how does this explain Tracy Titivate saving your life, eh Grundy?
Ah, well. There you have it. You see, if it hadn't been for Tracy Titivate, I might not have been listening to Radio 4 when an interesting article about electronic cigarettes was aired. And I come back to my first sentence: I was a smoker. For thirty-plus years. This particular Radio 4 article involved a presenter chatting to a 'vaper'. A vaper being someone who 'vapes'. The vaper vaped. The presenter was astonished at the clouds of vapour, seemingly just like cigarette smoke. You see, because a vaper inhales vapour, as opposed to smoke, he is known as a vaper, as opposed to a smoker.
This article spiked my imagination. Obviously, this was a radio program and, as such, it was simply not possible to view this vapour. I needed to know more. I surfed. I found a marvellously informative website called e-cig-reviews run by a splendid chap called Scott Bonner (name not fictitious to protect the innocent). I watched one video and I was amazed. Truly, I was amazed. Here was this chap putting something resembling a Parker Pen to his mouth and exhaling what looked like cigarette smoke. Only it wasn't! It was mostly water vapour. I couldn't believe it...
Scott Bonner is the second person I should thank (and have done) for steering me towards electronic cigarettes. I watched several more of his videos and became not a little excited at the prospect of trying this 'vaping' lark.
The wait was excruciating. I sat at my computer, chatting (virtually) to experienced vapers on Scott's forum, whilst puffing away on my roll-ups, desperate for the postman to arrive with my newly-purchased starter kit.
It arrived. I was amazed. I haven't smoked a cigarette since.
The vapour that is vaped has no tobacco, no smoke, no tar, no 4000+ chemicals, no carcinogens. And yet, it is incredibly close to the sensation of smoking. Really. Unbelievably close. Although it has not been around long enough for scientific evidence to categorically state that vaping is harmless, there is a general consensus that, well, it pretty much is. Certainly, 98% less harmful than tobacco.
So the rest, I hope, will be my future history - if you see what I mean. I have moved on to a bigger and better device now and I'm absolutely loving vaping!
And, ultimately, I have Tracy Titivate's ineptitude to thank for stopping me smoking.
** I'm sure you'd already guessed, but Tracy Titivate is a fictitious name. However, she is based on a real person and this story is true.
