Yesterday was a first for me. It was the first day that I intentionally left my Zippo lighter at home. I've left it at home before, on accident; left it in a bar, on accident; always on accident. I've had this lighter since 1994. It's been with me longer, and more often, than any other item I've ever owned.

I remember the day I bought the lighter. It was a chilly, gray, blustery November day in Chicago (surprise, surprise) and a light rain had started. I ducked into Big Jim's under the IC tracks at 53rd St. for a minute to pick up some clove cigarettes (I was trying too hard to be a hipster then) and to get out of the cold. Big Jim greeted me with his 'howzit, gubnor' and got up slowly from his creaky chair. As he wandered over to get me a pack of Djarums, a brassy glint caught my eye from the display case. I knelt down to get a better look, and Big Jim reached into the case and pulled out a few lighters. I ended up settling on the brushed brass; I think the warm glow of the brass was what got me.

Anyway, I've had this lighter for years now, and it's been across the US and back several times. There are more stories about this lighter than I can count; more feelings and memories associated with it that I can't begin to list them all here. And yet, it's time to retire the lighter (or at least give it a vacation). For my health, it's time to stand alone, to lose the affectations. I'm sure that in a few months, I'll decide to light up a smoke - I enjoy it too much. But for now, it's time to breathe clean air for a while - to clear my lungs and my head.