These days it seems everyone worries about their freedom and their rights.
Take, for example, smoking vs. non-smoking in public. A non-smoking section in a restaurant doesn't help those of us who are bothered by breathing in and smelling cigarette smoke. Smoke wafts throughout the building or room. Where there is smoke, I'll have to breathe it, "non-smoking section" or no. Isn't having a non-smoking section in a restaurant like having a no-peeing section in a swimming pool?

I know, people who smoke have rights. However, do those rights include forcing me and other non-smokers to breathe in their cigarette's carcinogen-filled smoke? Non-smokers have rights also and choose a smoke-free way of life. Even smokers know the dangers of smoking, yet they get upset when those of us who choose not to smoke speak out about our right not to join their habit by breathing their smoke. Is it more important for them to smoke, or me to breathe? Which is really a right? A necessity?

There are people who are health-conscious. Smoke-free places would contribute as much to their good health as eating all the right foods and exercising. I know a gal who claims to be a health nut, eating healthy foods, drinking lots of water and always concerned about her health and weight. Then, she goes outside to smoke. I'd be more worried what the tar and smoke are doing to my lungs and throat than eating a cheeseburger and fries.

My sweet, non-smoking grandmother used to say, "If I only had all the money your (deceased) grandpa spent on cigarettes over the last 40 years" She lamented over the clean spots where pictures hung on the wall, the rest of the wall dirtied by his smoke.

We were in a public auditorium recently where I was happily surprised to see "no smoking" signs posted very prominently. Also posted were signs directing smokers where smoking was permitted.

Inside the auditorium, two teenage boys sat in front of us. One of them took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. I thought he was going to light up, but to my surprise, he asked the usher if smoking was allowed. She told him it was not and he thanked her. I told my husband how nice it was to see that he asked. My husband, cynic that he can be, informed me he was only asking so he'd know whether or not to hide it. Lo and behold, within 10 minutes, he lit up, his smoke rising directly into my face. I blew it back towards him, but he didn't notice. I fanned my hand through the smoke to redirect

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