.comment-link {margin-left:.6em;}

Sundries
...a sweatshop of moxie

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Daisy Hates Fags

The multi-talented Queen of Denmark, Margrethe II -- who, you'll recall, is one of my Heroine Chic awardees -- has long been a HEAVY smoker, nigh on more years than Hans Christian Andersen has fairy tales.

I mean, her nic-habit is bad, people.

She recently made US' People Magazine because she had the cojones to light up during a royal visit to a cancer ward!

(I just laugh my fool head off thinking about that. Can you imagine press reaction in the cigarette-abhorring USA, if Laura Bush, a sometime smoker, had the audacity to do the same?)

It's to the point that even during the most official functions, she just doesn't care WHO she bums a cigarette from.



Like the Bishop of Aarhus above.

It's like Elizabeth II asking for the Bishop of Nottingham for a light.

And he, obliging!

(A modern-day Raleigh doffing his cape to come to his lady sovereign's rescue, perhaps...)

Daisy, as Queen Margrethe is known to her intimates, doesn't go in for that wimpy Marlboro Lights either, like the Queen of Spain -- she smokes the hard stuff, Greek filterless Karelia brands.

Whereas the Dutch tease their Queen about her silly hats, but in that affectionate way family members have, when you just can't change a person, so why not join in the fun instead, the Danes look at their gi-normous 6'2 monarch, and say, eh.

Cigarettes are not as bad as her decoupage habit, which bores even her husband.

By the way, here is Prince Henrik holding his eldest son in the 1970s, giving the tyke a drag of his 'rette.



Didn't Van Halen rip this image off for one of their covers?

Here I must say that in many parts of Europe, smoking is still not seen as a social debility, on par with public relief of bowels, like it is in America.

I once remember attending the Rhodes Scholars' Ball in Oxford, and even if you didn't see their enormous, Farah Fawcett-Donny-Osmond perfect, pearly whites which seem to grace every American, you still could tell the Americans in the room, because they would be huddled to one side, not smoking and coughing their lungs out towards those who were.

Me, I have a dirty secret which this blogpost will pry open.

Yes, I used to smoke.

But like Mr. Clinton, I didn't inhale. Although I totally tapped Monica Lewinsky. True story.

See, I never smoked nicotine ciggies, but rather those clove ones from Indonesia, which I specially had sent to me from a tobacconist's in London.

The firm had long furnished my father's family with their smoking paraphenalia since the 1890s. My grandfather had such a long-standing order, that he didn't even have to request refills. They were sent via courier in a white van, every week.

And yes, my 2-pack-a-dayer grandpa died of lung cancer. Like that's a shock.

Today, like a reformed rake preaching the merits of monogamy, I am a feral anti-smoker.

I am not at the level of the Prince of Wales, who refuses to allow ashtrays anywhere in his various homes, but I will let people know in no uncertain terms that I don't appreciate smoking within a city-block radius of me.

Okay, maybe not that viciously, but I really cannot stand smoking near me.

(Ever the illogical one, though, I am very much against outlawing public smoking. I feel some of the newer laws against smoking in open spaces here in the US, overstep that ticklish line between common sense and outright draconian iron-fistedness. Since I'm no Losertarian, me, I can only point to the fact that I always prefer balance in life, and find these laws too extreme for words)

I once saw a delicious video on Youtube of a young Brooke Shields, back in the 80s. The anti-smoking campaign, Smoking Stinks, was at its height then in the States, and she was seen lying on her belly in bed, saying:

"I hate smoking. Smoke gets in my hair, on my clothes and it smells awful. Ugh. I'd rather my hair smelled of shampoo."

She then capped off those words of wisdom, with this:

"Smoking kills."

"And if you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life."


Ludwig Wittgenstein, eat your heart out.

Apparently, she's now a smoker, but that's Hollywood for you -- saying one thing, and doing the diametrically-opposed thing, later that same day.

But this brings us back to the Towering Inferno that is the Queen of Denmark.

It was revealed by her Court Chamberlain, that something shocking, almost unthinkable has transpired, with regards to H.M.'s smoking.

No, she's not quitting -- YET.

But the Queen will stop her cancer sticks habit, in public.

From Agence Presse France:

"Denmark's chain-smoking Queen Margrethe II has quit smoking cigarettes in public and has drastically cut down on the habit in private ahead of a Danish ban on smoking in public buildings, media have reported.

"You will never see the queen smoking in public any more," Danish court spokeswoman Lis Frederiksen was quoted as saying in the tabloid Ekstra Bladet on Thursday.

The monarch had cut down in private but did not intend to give up cigarettes entirely, Frederiksen added, according to report."

Wow. Greater love hath no woman, for her country.

If you had paid the late Princess Margaret cold-hard cash, and offered her two more islands in Mustique, she would have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested she quit smoking in public.

And yes, she died of complications due to her chain-smoking, too. A total shock, I'm sure.

So, let's give Daisy her due.

She's gone one step closer to actually quitting that nasty, filthy, disgusting, vile, loathesome habit that is cigarette smoking.

Maybe, who knows, if the generous and liberal Danish welfare dental system ponies up some bleaching for her, she could even begin to look a little less like she just swallowed Secretariat's teeth.



Stop. You know it's true.

6 Comments:

  • Not only do I not have American teeth, (I like the Japanese expression for us: "butter-mouthed.")but I am busily creating a Dresden '45 diorama in my mouth, complete with gummi-bear Vonnegut...

    Clove cigs? Did you take an especially long drag and snap your fingers in approval at the end of your 40th viewing of Alphaville? ;-)

    Don't be woofin' on Daisy! I've got a fin on her to "place" at Churchill Downs next year...

    "And if you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life." Certain people would come out ahead in that transaction!

    If we could only change the name of all Arab terrorists to "Camels"; that may be the only way we could get Europeans to smoke them!

    OT, I'm writin' a post from my personal history that will go waaay past the Groucho Incident that I mentioned the other day in shear audacity . Watch for it, over the next day or two...

    By Blogger Ron, at Sun Dec 17, 04:07:00 am GMT-5  

  • (A modern-day Raleigh doffing his cape to come to his lady sovereign's rescue, perhaps...)


    You must know of the Raleigh brand of cigarettes, no?

    By Blogger Ruth Anne Adams, at Sun Dec 17, 12:38:00 pm GMT-5  

  • Not only do I not have American teeth, (I like the Japanese expression for us: "butter-mouthed.")

    Butter-mouth?? Because their teeth look like pats of butter, yellow but straight?? ;)

    but I am busily creating a Dresden '45 diorama in my mouth, complete with gummi-bear Vonnegut...

    Oh sweetie, hope that's not true...

    Clove cigs? Did you take an especially long drag and snap your fingers in approval at the end of your 40th viewing of Alphaville? ;-)

    LOL! I love Alphaville, too.

    But rather than the beatnik poet look, I was aiming for all-black togs for the Rive Gauche pseudo-intellectual one.

    Black Cable-knit turtle neck sweater, black leather pants, pointy leather boots, you know the kind.

    Very Julian Stallybrass.

    Don't be woofin' on Daisy! I've got a fin on her to "place" at Churchill Downs next year...

    Ouch! A fiver on Princess Anne.

    "And if you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life." Certain people would come out ahead in that transaction!

    Erm, okay.

    If we could only change the name of all Arab terrorists to "Camels"; that may be the only way we could get Europeans to smoke them!

    Bad bad boy!

    OT, I'm writin' a post from my personal history that will go waaay past the Groucho Incident that I mentioned the other day in shear audacity . Watch for it, over the next day or two...

    I cannot wait, Ron. Lemme know. This we gotta read.

    Cheers,
    Victoria

    By Blogger vbspurs, at Sun Dec 17, 09:24:00 pm GMT-5  

  • You must know of the Raleigh brand of cigarettes, no?

    Kool!

    Actually, it does ring a vague bell. They belong to the brands that used to be hot once, 50 years ago, like Chesterfields and Winstons, right?

    It's a cute package though, and I wonder, having remembered reading that the Queen's granny, Queen Mary, used to smoke a blond Virginia tobacco (usually grown right where you are, in North Carolina), I wonder if her brand were Raleighs...

    Cheers,
    Victoria

    By Blogger vbspurs, at Sun Dec 17, 09:26:00 pm GMT-5  

  • Neighhhhhh! I wasn't thinking that at all! Whinny!

    Heheheee!

    I saw that title and thought she was anti-Gay! I kept waiting for that shoe to drop. Then I remembered you are still a Brit. Fag = ciggy! Sheesh!

    By Blogger benning, at Thu Dec 21, 09:30:00 am GMT-5  

  • I saw that title and thought she was anti-Gay! I kept waiting for that shoe to drop. Then I remembered you are still a Brit. Fag = ciggy! Sheesh!

    Duh! ;)

    Yeah, one of my rare Brit-speak references, since I know how many Americans read this and like to point/giggle at those words.

    Either that, or I wanted all those Google hits from people researching for Fred Phelps' stories. ;)

    How Althouse of me.

    Cheers,
    Victoria

    By Blogger vbspurs, at Thu Dec 21, 07:37:00 pm GMT-5  

Post a Comment

Who linked Here:

Create a Link

<< Home


 




Advertise on blogs
British Expat Blog Directory.