BITING THE BULLET
Having finally admitted what many have been telling me for years – I will almost certainly die a week from next Thursday unless I quit cigarettes. I am, therefore, this weekend, biting the bullet and doing it. Serious withdrawal. Plus I’m making this public statement so I will totally humiliated if I slip back into my old Humphrey Bogart ways. Having said that, I won’t go whining on about this for pages, unless I start receiving "told-you-so" lectures and other irritants, in which case I will probably seek a long rifle, and a tall building, and let he heartaches begin. This is not easy. As my old pal Willie DeVille once told me, "Quitting nicotine is harder than quitting dope". And I’ve been doing this shit for 45 some years, with James Dean, James Bond, Frank Sinatra, and Bette Davis to reinforce how cool it was. This I need kindness, tolerance and gifts of nicotine gum and those plastic pacifier thingies. More later. Right now I must withdraw to withdraw.

The secret word is Zippo.