I’ve never been a smoker – well, okay, I tried it a few times when I was 13 because it was an act of rebellion against my parents with my friends who were also going through the same stage with parents. In total, I’ve probably smoked two cigarettes in my whole life, spread across many months during that infamous year.

I don’t understand the habit and the subculture that goes with it. To begin with, let’s look at the habit itself: right on each pack is a strong warning about the damage you will do to yourself if you smoke. Not damage that may happen, damage that will happen as you continue with the habit. Yet, approximately 18 percent of the population continues this disgusting habit with most decrying the day they started.

Both my parents were heavy smokers, which ultimately led to their demise, and it contributed to the death of my oldest brother at age 56. My sister also smokes – heavily. It’s interesting that the three youngest kids – except for the occasional “Have to look cool” puff, never got the habit and, to this day, find it repulsive to be within shouting distance of a smoker. The smell lingers – even outdoors – as the stench from several smokers over a period of time accumulates and is absorbed by every solid object around it.

The culture? Smokers tend to stick together and think nothing of giving each other cigarettes, yet they won’t lend each other money. When handing out cigarettes, aren’t you handing out money in a different form? I also don’t understand when a smoker will approach strangers on the street and ask to borrow a cigarette. Borrowing something means you will pay it back – but how will a smoker pay back someone he may never see again? And will the one who lends the cigarette somehow track the person down and demand payment? A similar request is, “Got an extra cigarette?” Hmm, do the tobacco companies issue packs of cigarettes with an extra section for those you will give out (and never get back). Of course they don’t. In short, buy your own pack of cigarettes, as some have told the freeloaders directly. Which brings me to my final question and a topic for another day: What, exactly, is spare change? as in “Got any spare change?”

Whatever happened to quiet in restaurants? I’m not talking about the high-class places with tablecloths and six forks on the table that have music gently playing in the background – I enjoy that experience. I’m talking about those where the owner may make your meal for take-out or eat in. What happens is you walk into the place, order your meal, and wait while they prepare it. So far, so good. Then, someone gets the stupid idea that you want background music. But it isn’t background music – the volume is cranked so loud that you can’t enjoy your meal in peace and quiet, nor can you carry on a conversation without raising your voice.

Who decided we want music playing while we eat at such a loud volume? Why not ask the patrons if they want music? And the next customer who walks in must then yell his or her order over the music and the through the barriers that several places still have installed from the COVID-19 era.

It’s a trend that started 20 years ago and shows no sign of stopping. It’s part of our noisy world where it’s presumed everyone likes it that way. Fact: many (including me) don’t and prefer to eat in silence. And don’t give me that ambience crap for a place where you order off a menu board behind the employees. I now speak up and have told several places over the years that I prefer the silence and they comply. I wish more places would.

Sometimes you just know that a relocation is the right thing to do and that you did it at the right time. Although I have worked remotely since COVID-19 meant a job layoff for me, I had lived in the same city for 27 years and knew it was time to move on. I knew this when I could no longer tell people I liked the area. No, there is nothing wrong with the city or the region – although it’s infrastructure hasn’t kept up with its growth – it was a combination of things. The aforementioned growth and relentless construction, traffic issues, the feeling that it was yet another bedroom community of Toronto with out of control housing prices, the feeling I wanted to go off in a different direction, and a few things with people that are better left unpublished.

The rumblings of wanting to move began in 2018 but a good job at an established high tech company working with outstanding people kept me from making that leap of faith. However, I sensed it was time to do something about it back in the late winter of 2023, so I did what anyone would do: I stayed in various cities and towns to get a feel for the everyday pace and life of each one. I like Alberta and would likely love British Columbia but Ontario, although I wasn’t born here, is my Canadian home. I wanted to be near a large body, or bodies, of water, live in a less populated area, and far enough away from my city of 27 years that it felt like that fresh start I wanted and needed. I wanted to be nearer to nature than I was, with lots of trails nearby.

I toured both the Lake Huron and Lake Erie coastlines and while each town had its charms and beauty, most were missing the intangibles and negatively answered the question, “Can I see myself living here in five years?” It didn’t mean I had to be living there in five years, but could I.

East of Toronto, I considered small cities along Lake Ontario, as well as the The Kawarthas. Gradually, I narrowed down my choices according to my mental checklist and the winner was The Kawarthas area. I am near a small city with at least 15 lakes within a short drive – plus one in the city itself, I don’t have to deal with traffic jams at anytime, I can see myself living here in five years, and I am far enough away from my previous address that it is not only the physical, but mental fresh start I needed.