He was a mentor of mine when I was 17. Wardell Jeffries recruited me as a senior for his alma mater, Oklahoma Baptist University. He had been an All-American there and was the last guy the Seattle Supersonics cut in 1974 (they kept Slick Watts instead). Fast forward 20 years. My good friend had just agreed to a $50,000 training commitment for his company. He said to me, "Let's celebrate." He reached in his humidor and gently removed a handful of premium cigars. We went outside to smoke and reminisce. I have to admit, I didn't much care for the taste of that cigar; moreover, it gave me a bit of a headache. He gave me one for the road. THAT one got me hooked. The year was 1996.

If I was going to smoke cigars, I had better do some research. I read a couple of books and subscribed to Cigar Aficionado magazine. I purchased a humidor and was hooked, not only by the nicotine, but also by the romance, ritual, and fellowship of the cigar community. These were successful businessmen who knew how to live life to the fullest.

I know people who can have one cigar a week or on special occasions. I am not wired that way. It began with a cigar once a week, then three times a week, then every day, and then twice a day. Nicotine had me in its oily clutches and was squeezing me tighter each day. But hey, I could quit any time.

I speak for a living. My voice is important to my livelihood. I knew this habit wasn't a good thing for the long-term. A day of reckoning was imminent. It was a series of little things, like tiny weights on an apothecary scale, that finally tipped it in the end: a billboard in St. George, a tickle in my throat, my youngest son expressing his concern for me, the price of fine cigars, a burn hole in two of my favorite shirts, casual comments from friends about the smell of smoke, and their surprise that I smoked at all. It was time; my day of reckoning had arrived.

So, I made a decision. I wrote it down in my journal and committed to it. I listed the reasons why I wanted it. I asked my son to be my accountability partner in this decision. I counted the actual hard costs of twenty more years of this habit and the dollar figure blew me away. I tossed out all my paraphernalia.

Then the insanity began. Nicotine is a sneaky and addicting drug. Ray Charles said quitting smoking was more difficult than quitting heroin! That was the Bad News, but wait; there was more...BAD NEWS. In active tobacco users, a lack of nicotine produces a wide range of withdrawal symptoms:

In addition to an unexpected three-week grief period, my self-talk was fascinating: I will just buy one and not light it, or I just look at the cigars, but I won't buy any, or, my favorite, I can quit anytime; I just don't want to right now! They were Rational Lies all. I laughed out loud at the insanity. By the end of 72 hours, I wasn't sure if I was going to make it. Ninety-five percent of smokers who go "cold turkey" fail. My turkey was below zero.

According to Dr. Brad Bowman, WebMD medical editor, and the Cleveland Clinic, the benefits of cessation from smoking begin immediately:

If you own a business, this New York Times article is worth reading: Click here.

If you are thinking about giving up smoking for good, here is the best advice I have experienced and researched. Know and apply any or all of these 12 ideas. I hope they help you.