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In my March column you learned that I decided to abandon—cold turkey, mind you—a 42-year addictive passion for cigarettes. I was a "cigarette magnet," and over the years I smoked Lucky Strike, Camels, Pall Mall, Winston, Marlboro and, finally, Marlboro Lights. I also smoked a fair number of roll-your-owns in some sleazy no-name bars with dirt floors down South where you're a sissy if you can't roll your own.
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