EVEN if we hadn't been able to recognise a word in the newspaper in our holiday hotel, we'd have known the little feller in the outsized cloth cap, tab end dangling from his lip.

He might be labelled Kaskett Karl but they couldn't disguise Andy Capp.

Now a 5ft bronze of him is proposed in his, or rather his creator, Reg Smythe's, home town of Hartlepool but, in these days of political correctness, the tab end will be missing, just as Isambard Kingdom Brunel's large cigar has been airbrushed out of his photograph in some quarters.

With respect to Mr Smythe's family who, I understand, approve of the statue, why alter history? After all, the proposed statue has Andy propping up a bar, yet people die from alcohol, too, and, like smoking, it's not necessarily those who indulged.

I smoked. I gave up when some Chancellor put the cost of 20 up to 4s 10d (24p). At this distance, I can't remember who, when, or even which party was in power. It was long before there was any high-profile concern about the effect of smoking on our health; I simply preferred my taxpaying to be identifiable, in a box on my payslip.

Since then, the current cost of a packet of 20 has flitted across my consciousness, generally on the day some later Chancellor took another pot at all the usual targets and fags went up again.

What do they cost now? About a fiver for 20, depending on brand and where they're bought, I think, and about 20 times the price at which I cried: "Enough". Wages haven't risen at the same rate.

It could account for me noticing that, as the cost of cigarettes goes up, so does their value as a justification for minor acts of extravagance.

I'll give you an example. Someone buys a new novel, in hardback, and says: "Well, it was £16.99 - but then, I don't smoke.

Even if the book buyer has never smoked, so isn't able to afford the book simply because a comparable amount hasn't gone over the counter for coffin nails, the fact that the money could, in theory, have been spent on cigarettes makes buying the book OK.

Just as the cost of a Mars bar has become a world-wide indicator of inflation, so the price of cigarettes is becoming a standard against which we measure our little luxuries.

I caught myself doing it with some theatre tickets when the home diary showed us gadding rather more than normal. That £10 ticket was the same price as 40 cigarettes, I thought. Come on, woman, as they haven't figured in your budget since 40 were less than ten bob (50p), it's hardly relevant. You wouldn't smoke now anyway, even if they were tuppence for 40.

Just listen. I bet you'll hear someone say: "But I don't smoke", especially if your own expression says clearly: "Ooh, spendthrift.