I grew up in the 1950s and '60s and every adult in my family, their friends, and coworkers smoked. So did most of the teenagers. People smoked in restaurants, grocery stores, and movie theaters. There were ashtrays on the tables in the public library. I had two doctors who would smoke when they were with you in the examining room. I had a job as a box boy in a grocery store and one of my tasks was to go over the whole floor with a wide broom once an hour to sweep up the cigarette butts. My parents smoked constantly, except when they were in the shower or asleep. The inside of our house and cars were a continuous haze of smoke, and everything smelled like it. Smoking was part of my dad's ideology, and I think he was actually a little disappointed that I never developed the habit. Eventually both he and my mother slowly suffocated from emphysema and lung cancer, but at least they looked cool.
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