A moment that changed me: my girlfriend criticised my kisses – and it led to the best decision of my life

Bob and Elvira, pictured on Long Island, New York, in 1982. Photograph: Courtesy of Bob Brody

In 1970, as an 18-year-old college freshman in Boston, living away from home for the first time, I started to smoke cigarettes. A pack a day grew in short order to two packs a day, or a cigarette about every 30 minutes.

I choreographed my life around my smokes, puffing away after every meal, taking a drag with a drink and blowing smoke rings as I wrote, usually late into the night. I needed no pretext for smoking, but found plenty; every occasion fit the bill.