Have a fag and make my day

It's No Smoking Day in 36 hours, and I for one will not be touching a cigarette from dawn until dusk. This is no great hardship, as I gave up tobacco two years ago. The only lethal toxins inhaled into these lungs nowadays are emitted from used nappies. I'm trying to give them up.

Like every reformed smoker, I love to dwell at length on my dark years of addiction, especially in front of anyone drawing heavily on a King Size. (Isn't King Size an eccentric measurement? In a tobacconist's it equates to three inches, but in a bed shop it means 6ft x 4ft.)

Oh, those terrible, ash-specked mornings. The first thing I reached for on waking was my packet of fags. The second thing I reached for were my glasses, in order to find my packet of fags.

Then it was smoking non-stop until a wheezy sleep overcame me that night. And it's very difficult to clean your teeth with a Marlboro Light clamped between your lips, let me tell you. I would have been a chain smoker, only I couldn't get it off the bike.

One day a year, all self-respecting smokers try to up their nicotine levels still further. You've guessed it: No Smoking Day. This banal stunt treats intelligent adults as unruly poodles who need to be house-trained. It was gratifying to figuratively foul the organisers' hall carpet by smoking an extra ten.

This small pleasure now being denied me, I propose that similar theme days are established when everyone can enjoy flouting State-imposed taboos. Here are my suggestions.

No Smirking Day. Participants defiantly wear a Richard Branson leer for 24 hours (warning: you might get your teeth smashed in).

No Soaking Day. We stay in the bath until our skin resembles Barbara Cartland's jowls.

No Stroking Day. Sit in a swivel chair with its back to the door. When approached by your boss/partner/home help, swing round, caressing the cat on your lap while announcing, Blofeld-style: "Ah, Mr insert name here, I've been expecting you."

No Smiting Day: During which you invite strangers to smack you around the chops and when they do, you turn the other cheek (memo to self: this one might be hard to sell).

No Joking Day: Finish every sentence with the words "And that's no joke" or similar. Example: "The MoT on my hostess trolley cost me £107. And that's no joke. We're off to see Stan Boardman tonight. And that's no laughing matter."

No Sloe-Gin Day: Celebrate by downing a bottle of the liqueur.

News At Ten? Not any more. Turn on ITV at 10pm tonight and you will see John Thaw attempting a northern accent as Kavanagh QC. That is followed by comedy drama The Grimleys, which I urge you to watch for no other reason than it features the Titley family.

ITV's schedule has changed after the bell tolled for Trevor and his ten-times a night friend, Big Ben. The last show finished not with a bong, but with a whimper.

Apparently News At Ten was only meant to last 12 weeks. Isn't that what they say about every long-running programme? The Archers - on the air continuously since 1951, but it wasn't expected to last through the harvest. Blue Peter - 40 years old, but it began as an emergency stand-in when Muffin the Mule came down with mange.

Next they'll be saying that the predictions of Nostradamus were only meant to refer to the 1547 football season and that The Times started out as a shopping list.

I'm not off to see Monica Lewinsky when she visits the Leeds branch of Waterstones on Tuesday week. I'm waiting until she's booked to do a public appearance at Sketchleys. It must happen.

08/03/99

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.