“A ball of fire on one end and a fool on the other.”

That’s how my high school history teacher Mr. Holt described cigarettes. (He also preached cigarettes make you smell like an outhouse, which is why I hired my brother to construct a miniature outhouse that I could fill with empty cigarette cartons for Mr. Holt’s Christmas gift. Tyree’s Permanent Record, now on audiobook.)

Big Tobacco’s tawdry wares maintained a stranglehold on the public consciousness for another 20 years after my graduation. Then the tide began turning. Via public service campaigns, taxation and legislation, America’s smoking habit became shamed, marginalized and exiled.

But now, an article in the Washington Post reveals that cigarettes are back in vogue, at least among entertainers and influencers. (The Post should have expanded its “Democracy Dies in Darkness” motto to include “And Cousin Olivia Dies in the Emphysema Ward.”) Yes, celebrities including Kylie Jenner, Dua Lipa and Hailey Bieber have recently posed with “cancer sticks.” Jillian Michaels and Tucker Carlson have touted the “benefits” of nicotine. (And Philip Morris International would doubtless pay a bundle for a sexy “Forget jeans! Sydney Sweeney has great big discolored spots on her teeth” campaign.)

The rich and famous embrace a vice that lets them be “a little bit naughty” without a cocaine-esque scandal. (“I only burned the hotel down A LITTLE BIT when I fell asleep smoking!”) For a brief shining moment, it seemed that everyone and his brother was brainstorming life hacks. Now we’re more interested in phlegm-producing hacks.

Many everyday people easing into the “social smoking” trend attribute it to “retro vibes.” Lighting up is supposedly akin to collecting vinyl records, except instead of the LP albums going round and round, the smokers go round and round, asking, “Am I cool yet? Am I cool yet? Does this wine taste like ashes to you?”

Whether they’re oldtimers who grudgingly gave up their two-packs-a-day habit in 2010 or members of a younger generation who never experienced a time when smoking wasn’t banned in public places, sneaking a few puffs is like a time machine jaunt to the Good Old Days.

They should be glad it’s not a literal time machine, or they might get a rude awakening about simpler times. (“I’m just going to drive down to the store and get some Pall Malls — and where’s my power steering??? And why is my European bottled spring water replaced with a ‘whites only’ garden hose???”) Some people just want something to do with their hands while dispensing their witticisms. Here’s something to do with your hands: take out your smartphone and scroll “Lung Transplant Opportunities Near You.”

Some see smoking as an acceptable form of rebellion. (“Booorn to be tracheotomiiiiiized!”) Some see a cigarette as a newfound romantic prop. (“I could gaze into your eyes all night, except for the part about MY eyes itching and turning red. Are you as turned on as…Hey!”) In a backlash against the “wellness” push of the 2010s, some of the new smokers knowingly spit in the face of health warnings. Others are blissfully ignorant. (“The surgeon general? Isn’t he the one who invented that sweet and sticky chicken dish in Chinese restaurants?”) I suppose some people will unfriend me because of my irreverent take on cigarettes; but, as Mr. Holt lectured, when one door closes … another door, with a crescent moon, opens.

Danny is a lifelong resident of Marshall County, a nationally syndicated columnist and author of three books available through Amazon. He welcomes email at tyreetyrades@aol.com.