Smoked Out

I have to admit…I have a terrible prejudice.

I hate cigarettes. My passion can be traced back to my childhood when I had a parent who smoked in the era when it was cool. My father would smoke when we had meals….when I would be trapped in the back seat of the family car--in the winter--when the windows needed to be rolled up. I don’t think he was cruel….I just think it was during a time before we knew the devastating effects of tobacco on the human body.

Later, in my life, I was a young reporter in a crammed newsroom housing seven employees. I was the only non-smoker. Every night, I’d come home reeking of smoke. I’m sure the second-hand smoke was detrimental to my health.

When someone dies of lung cancer, I have the terrible habit of asking if they were a cigarette smoker knowing 99-percent of the time, they were.

And I know I should not be so judgmental. I also have bad habits not conducive to good health.

So, I went against my conservative leanings in supporting the change in Illinois law prohibiting the purchase of tobacco products for people under 21. I can’t defend it. I only know that if it prevents one kid from ever lighting up a cigarette, I’m OK with it. Smoking is horribly addictive. Some of my very best friends can’t quit. They want to….they simply can’t.

This is one of those issues where I can’t live up to the conservative mantle. There are others. But this one has been ingrained in me since I was a little fella.

A little fella trapped in a car filled with cigarette smoke.