Really, Gene?

I adore Gene Weingarten and usually agree with 90% of what he writes about. But the topic of today's chat poll was prejudices, and one of the choices was smokers. I'm sure noone will be surprised to know that I definitely chose that one, in addition to a coupl'a others.

So later in the chat, the subject of smokers/second hand smoke came up and this post really rankled me:

A proud second-hand smoke weenie: Okay, Gene, I usually agree with your assessment of weenie-isms, but on this one you are wrong. Your generation grew up around smokers and even if you don't smoke, you consider it in the range of acceptable behavior. But if you are able to step outside your experience and really think about what is going on, you have to admit that it's insane. Someone is sitting in a public space and is freely, consciously choosing to spout carcinogens into the air. Would it be okay if a corporation decided to put its own little toxic-fume-emitting smokestack next to you? A smoker is doing the same thing.

I really can't believe anyone growing up in our country under the age of 50 smokes. The amount of anti-smoking education kids have heard the last few decades is vast. And yet these idiots STILL light up and get addicted and can't quit? Please, keep your stupid choices well away from me -- I want to breathe.

Gene Weingarten: I just believe that the second hand smoke thing is hysteria, and part of smoker-hate.

I'll give Gene .0000002% credit for being from "another generation" but still cannot believe he chalks this all up to "hysteria". Just take a look at the CDC or any other reliable source to learn that cigarette smoking and exposure to tobacco smoke kills over 400,000 people annually in the US, or that smoking, on average, reduces adult life expectancy by approximately 14 years. (Source)

I grew up in a home with two very heavy smokers for parents. For the almost twenty years I lived at home, I had to live, breathe, eat, sleep, play, wash, etc. in the filth they produced. I hated spending the night at my girlfriends' houses because I and all my belongings would REEK of smoke. I was similarly mortified when I would bring anyone home, doubly so when I started to date. My sister and I were constantly sick with an assorted variety of throat/ear/other maladies that magically vanished the moment I moved out on my own. I used to have dreams where I was living in a perfect SitCom household, just like mine, where the only difference was that my family was smoke free.

I've previously confessed in blog format before about my nightmares of having to choose between my child's health and a relationship with their grandparents. I often think to myself, "Man wouldn't that be a kicker if life were ever so stressful that I turned into one of those people who chain-smoke out of stress?" But then I realize, no, that would never happen because to me, smoking is akin to licking an old dumpster located in Washington DC, only worse, it affects your family, too.

Just the THOUGHT of it turns my stomach, so I'm going to move along now... (These opinions may not make me popular, but remember, it's my blog...)