[ArcLight]

My father died from smoking. I truly believe the tobacco makers stand a very good chance of roasting in hell once they leave this earth.

And yet I absolutely agree with this lovely essay. I don't mind if people smoke around me; perhaps due to memories of dear old dad, I like the smell of it. And I'm angered sometimes when I see my colleagues out on the streets, forced into the cold to indulge their habit. I think it's outrageous that so many Americans sit still for this narrow-minded intrusion into the lives of others.

[Drammach]

I sometimes smoke a pipe, usually in winter around Christmas time.
Luckily, I have my own work area, and am allowed to smoke there.

The boss brought a customer by, showing off the shop and our capabilities, and she smelled the smoke as soon as they entered.
She exclaimed, " You're smoking a PIPE! "
( The boss got this look, like he'd just lost a customer, his face starting to screw up like a lemon. )

Then she continued, " My grandfather used to smoke a pipe. We used to go there every year at Christmas time. I haven't thought of that for years. "
Then she got all misty - eyed for a minute, and I introduced myself, shook her hand, showed her around.
She spent more time in my smoky little shop than she did in the entire rest of the building, and thanked me most graciously when she left.
It was unsaid, but part of the thanks was for bringing back a memory.

My boss just looked relieved.