Smoked Out

I’m with you: The smoke has got to go [Good Intentions, November]. My deep disgust for breathing other people’s poisonous crap, not to mention the stinging eyes, stinky clothes, achy head, and nauseous stomach that result from the poison keeps me from enjoying a multitude of otherwise fabulous venues here in the Cities and I’m sick of it. Less than 25 percent of Minnesotans smoke and yet 100 percent of us have to put up with the effects of such a nasty, disgusting, and lethal habit. I don’t give a crap about their “presumed” civil right to kill themselves in public. What about my right to breathe clean air in public? What about my right not to die from the long-term effects of second-hand smoke? What about my right to enjoy what I probably paid damn good money to see or listen to, without interference? I’m a native Californian who very much enjoyed the benefits of smoke-free entertainment venues. I loved going out and spending money at these places. But no more. Since I moved here, I have earned some serious mileage on my credit card at video and music stores. And since the powers that be obviously have not caught on to the fact that business can only become more profitable by going smoke-free, I’m sending them the only message I know. I’m keeping my money for myself and Mr. Video. Given this miserable state of affairs, I find it ironic that recently the nonprofit United Health Foundation said Minnesota is the second healthiest state in the nation. The ranking is based on several measures, including infant mortality, uninsured rates, violent crime, smoking, premature death, and children in poverty. It was ranked number one last year. The reason it slipped is doubly ironic: Smoking rates went up from 19 percent to 22 percent. Maybe one day all the non-smoking folks will pause and ask themselves why this is inequity being allowed to continue. And maybe that day something will be done. In the meantime, it’s not looking good for Minnesota, and my DVD player continues to get more use than I care for, but what are my alternatives? I want to go out and play again, before I’m too old to care. Optimistically, our voices will be heard and something will be done. Realistically, I’m not holding my breath.

Dianne Rowe, Minneapolis