Waging the War on Smoking

Yesterday was the 50th anniversary of Dr. Luther Terry's published warning about the dangers of smoking.

That brought about some immediate changes in American life — i.e., the warning labels on cigarette packages and, a few years later, the ban on tobacco advertising on television — and set in motion some longer–term changes.

Sarah Boseley of The Guardian rightly observes that the war hasn't been won. While the smoking rate has gone down, the number of smokers actually has gone up.

In a world that has long worried about the "population explosion" (people were worried about that when I was a kid, probably before that), that isn't really surprising, is it?

So I guess it's a variation on that age–old question, is the glass half empty or half full?

"The war on tobacco is far from being won," Boseley writes from the half–empty corner. "More than half of men smoke every day in several countries ... (and) [m]ore than a quarter of all women smoke."

As a reformed smoker (nearly seven years now), I feel I have an understanding for both sides. Smokers see what they do as a legal, personal choice, and they resent being treated like criminals (or lepers) for doing it. Nonsmokers believe they have a right to breathe clean air that isn't polluted by cancer–causing smoke.

Irresistible force, meet immoveable object.

I agree with Boseley that the war is not won. But tobacco has a considerable jump on things. Its use on this continent goes back some 3,000 years, and a coordinated public effort to eradicate it has been going on (at some points, dragging) for only a handful of decades.

Yet, in that time, the smoking rate has been cut in half. That is encouraging. (Welcome to the half–full corner.)

"[T]he benefits from the drop in use, accumulated across so many lives, are incalculable," writes the Washington Post.

It's like a conversation I had with a friend in the early days of the Great Recession. He said unemployment was destined to remain high because the jobs that had been lost were not coming back.

(It was like listening to Timothy McVeigh speak of "collateral damage.")

Did that mean we should not even try? I asked. Well, no, he grudgingly admitted.

Just because the war on smoking hasn't been completely won does not mean we should stop fighting it. We just need to be smarter about how we do it.

In the war against smoking, the Post recommends increasing taxes on tobacco products to discourage their use. I'm not sure how I feel about that proposal. One of the arguments against smoking is that it disproportionately affects the poor, but isn't that who will be most adversely affected by increasing the taxes? Wealthy and middle–class smokers will pay the taxes. They may complain about it, but they will pay it, and they will continue to smoke. The poor will continue to smoke, too, but the additional taxes they pay will have a financial domino effect — taking away money the poor would have used for food, clothing, shelter.

I'm more inclined to support the proposal that the FDA exercise its authority and require tobacco companies to reduce the amount of nicotine in their products. That has the potential to give heavy smokers the help they need to break their addiction and keep lighter smokers from becoming addicted.

USA Today says the war on smoking is "one of the nation's greatest public health success stories — but not for everyone."

That's one of those lines that expresses so much more than its words actually do.

America is not a one–size–fits–all nation. We celebrate diversity here, but we don't seem to have as much regard for the diversity of diversity. I'll grant you that money can be a powerful disincentive to smoke, but that assumes that the addict can control his/her addiction — and the nature of addiction is that the affected person has no control over it.

It is that very fact upon which tobacco companies have relied to make their fortunes: Get 'em on the hook, and they're yours.

Does that mean we shouldn't continue to fight the war? No. It does mean we should re–examine our tactics and never take our eyes off the ball.

"Anti–smoking forces have plenty to celebrate this week, having helped avert 8 million premature deaths in the past 50 years," writes USA Today. "But as long as 3,000 adolescents and teens take their first puff each day, the war is not won."

Five Smoke-Free Years

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Nearly 3½ years ago, the Montgomery County, Maryland, government officials observed the fifth anniversary of a policy banning smoking in the county's restaurants and bars.

It's been a long time since I was in Maryland, but I'd like to have that banner today. I'd hang it from my balcony, where it would be clearly visible to the cars that pass by.

You see, I smoked my last cigarette five years ago today.

I must say that I am proud of that achievement — I'm almost as proud of it as I am shocked by it. I honestly thought I was a lifer — however long my smoking addiction would permit me to live. I never expected to give it up, not for five hours, much less five years. That is a milestone that I never thought I'd reach.

Nevertheless, here I am, five years later, still smoke free.

It hasn't been easy, and I sincerely sympathize with anyone who may be taking his/her first steps down that long, often dark road today. There are still times when I miss it, when I crave it — there have even been a couple of times when I damn near pulled in to a convenience store parking lot, planning to buy a pack, and I had to talk myself out of it — but those times aren't as frequent or intense as they were and they don't last nearly as long as they did.

A friend of mine told me long ago that those cravings would become less intense as the nicotine left my system. I had my doubts at the time, but it really is true. They haven't gone away — I'm told they never really will — but they are easier to ignore.

If I could, I would tell this to someone who is attempting to quit smoking — If you stick with it, it will be worth it.

It will be worth it in many ways, some you probably can't even imagine today — and there may be benefits to come of which I still am not aware. But, after five years, I can tell you this:

• Not having to pay for cigarettes put a dent in my monthly expenses in these last five years — and that has meant a lot in this economy.
  
  I mean, by itself, my cigarette purchases probably didn't amount to a massive chunk of my monthly budget (although I noticed recently how much cigarette prices have risen since the last time I bought a pack), but when you multiply the savings over five years, well, it has become a tidy sum.


• I don't cough when I get up in the morning, anymore — unless I am congested from a cold. I've discovered that I really like breathing — and I want to keep doing it.


• My home, my clothes and my vehicle don't reek of smoke anymore.


• Food tastes better. In fact, I find myself discovering all sorts of flavors now. Where has this been all my life? I often ask myself. The answer is quite simple. It's been there all along. It just couldn't get through the smoke to my taste buds.

And here is one for parents.

I don't happen to be a parent so this has not been a benefit for me. But if you are a parent, this is one that you cannot ignore.

You will no longer expose your child(ren) to second–hand smoke.

Actually, come to think of it, I was a parent (in a way) when I was smoking. I owned a very lively dog for about 5½ years, and we were a family, the two of us, until he got loose from me one night, ran into the street and was hit by an oncoming vehicle.

After he was killed, I thought, from time to time, of the occasions when I had seen him cough, and I did wonder if he was affected by second–hand smoke. If he was, I deeply regret reducing the quality of his life. (For all I know, if he hadn't been hit by that car, he might have died prematurely from some smoke–related illness.)

Of course, there are other, more cosmetic benefits. One such benefit is that my fingers were stained yellow from all the nicotine but no more. That stain has disappeared.

Little by little, my body seems to be reclaiming what it lost to my years of smoking — and I sincerely wish I had given it up earlier. I did try, from time to time, but, while the spirit was willing, the flesh was always weak.

The time was right five years ago, I guess, and I am proud to be able to say today that I am still smoke free. It hasn't been easy. It still isn't easy.

But it's been worth it.

And I urge every smoker reading this to make the attempt.

Even if you fail.

Keep trying.

Worth a Thousand Words

Yesterday, the Food and Drug Administration unveiled the warning labels that will now adorn cigarette packages.

Well, they're supposed to be in place by September of next year so they won't start showing up at your neighborhood convenience store for awhile.

But, when they do, the difference will be — as the commissioner of food and drugs for the FDA said — "dramatic."

The overall appearances of cigarette packages will be changed. Warning labels have been printed innocuously on one side of cigarette packages (where they were easy for smokers to ignore) for years, and the language was ambiguous.

But the FDA's new labels will wrap around packages, sharing the space that presently belongs only to the brand name. They will be impossible for smokers to ignore — in no small part because the new generation of labels will carry graphic illustrations of the damage that smoking can do to people.

Now, I have always heard that a picture is worth a thousand words. I guess I have been reluctant to accept that because I am a writer. The idea of images having more influence than words contradicts my lifelong belief in the power of the pen.

But I have seen enough to know that, for the majority of people, a picture really is worth a thousand words.

It's really hard to forget a strong visual image. It's a lot easier to forget words, even words of wisdom.

Words of wisdom are often overlooked. But the words of wisdom on these new labels won't be open to interpretation.

For most of my adult life, I was a smoker. When I think back on that period in my life, I guess I actually read those labels a handful of times — enough to know what they said — but the information never really sank in. Most of the time, I was aware the labels were there, but I always managed to keep them from my sight. I would place a package with the label facing away from me or with the label blocked by something.

Would I have become addicted to smoking if I had been confronted with big labels every time I lit up? Probably not. (If you are a pack–a–day smoker, you will have to look at those labels about 7,300 times per year.)

And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been drawn to smoking if I had seen full–color pictures of diseased lungs or hearts.

I hear that's part of the strategy. The images that were selected for the labels were chosen after focus groups indicated to the FDA that they were the most effective at repulsing specific groups, such as teenagers and pregnant women.

The new labels are designed to convey the image that smoking is not cool, which is good — to a point.

Nicotine is a crafty foe, as I have said before. It starts as a habit, but it quietly seizes control. As a long–term strategy, it is wise to discourage smoking at all. It's better than having to deal with that addiction phase.

(Someday, I'd like to see the FDA mandate labels that say something like "TOBACCO COMPANIES HAVE MANIPULATED THE NICOTINE CONTENT IN THEIR PRODUCTS TO MAKE THEM MORE ADDICTIVE." Talk about honesty in advertising.)

It is important, as I have written here before, for people to stop treating smoking like a "habit" that one can control — and start treating it like an addiction, which people cannot control. Perhaps, one day, we truly will.

But, in the meantime, I think the new labels are a step in the right direction.

The new labels are an honest and unflinching look at something that has been glamorized far too long — and, as a result, far too many people have become sick and died.

Ordinarily, I'm not in favor of government interference in personal decisions.

By my own choice, I haven't had a cigarette in more than four years. But that is the point. It was my choice.

I have told my friends who still smoke that I will never tell them what they should or should not do. Cigarette smoking is a legal activity for adults (typically, 18 or older), and I will not tell anyone not to do something that I did for many years.

I will give them my opinion — but only if they ask for it — and I definitely do have an opinion about smoking. Few of my smoking friends have asked me for my opinion, though, so I'm glad that the FDA will be requiring these labels.

They'll get my point across for me — and I won't have to say a word — much less a thousand of 'em.

My Anniversary

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It was four years ago today that I smoked what is — so far, at least — my last cigarette.

As the anniversaries — and semi–anniversaries — have rolled around, I have written about smoking and giving it up. I have refused — and I still refuse — to call myself an "ex"–smoker. I prefer to call myself a "recovering" smoker — even today.

I know some people who used to smoke but don't anymore — and most of them tend to look down on smokers. I don't know why. Of all people, former smokers should know how hard it is to give up smoking. It is not a character defect or a lack of will power that keeps many from succeeding yet many former smokers act as if it is.

Many former smokers pass judgment on current smokers. I do not.

Granted, the smell of tobacco smoke is irritating for someone who has given it up. I don't really know why that is. Perhaps it is because the enhanced nicotine in today's cigarettes appeals to us in subliminal ways, trying to sneak in under our personal radars and seduce us.

I believe a former smoker must be ever vigilant to remain one, but I have assured my friends who still smoke that I will never tell them what I think they should do — unless they ask for my opinion.

If you want to read what I have written about smoking in the past, you can find the posts on this blog without too much difficulty.

I still believe that it is good that I am what I call a "recovering smoker" — and not an active smoker. I respect tobacco and nicotine and the power they wield.

I am glad I do not hand over my money to the cigarette companies anymore. I don't cough first thing in the morning anymore. My hair, my clothes, my home and my vehicle don't reek of tobacco smoke anymore. I'm not constantly emptying ash trays or wondering when I will need to replenish my cigarette supply.

I remember, when I first saw "Cast Away" and marveled, like everyone else, at his survival skills, my very first thought was a sense of panic at the thought of being deprived of cigarettes indefinitely, perhaps forever.

Because I knew that, once I was plunged into the water, any cigarettes I had on me would be useless — and a smokeless existence would be imposed on me immediately. How would I cope? How would I be able to do it?

It's been awhile since I've seen that movie, but it seems to me that Tom Hanks' character survived for four years on that deserted island before he was rescued. I don't think his character was a smoker before being stranded, but he had many obstacles to overcome.

Well, now, I have survived for four years since my last puff. I haven't had to do it in such a primitive setting, but it's been a long, hard and lonely battle. There have been many obstacles that I have had to overcome, too.

Nevertheless, I suppose I'm free. Free at last, free at last ...

Well ...

I've spent about two–thirds of the last four years looking for full–time work.

That fact alone ought to be worth something. I mean, when I worked for newspapers, it was considered a plus to be dedicated and patient because a complete story rarely, if ever, fell into your lap — and, if it did, it seldom made deadline.

You had to be committed to the long haul.

I've endured the stress without turning to tobacco for the soothing calm it always provided. It hasn't been easy. In fact, it's been damn hard. But I've done it.

Aren't those qualities that an employer should want in an employee?

I can learn to do the things I do not know how to do if someone will show me.

But it won't mean much if I do not have a long–term commitment.

Three Years and Counting

Three years ago today, I smoked my last cigarette.

I don't know how old I was when I smoked a cigarette for the first time. I have a vague memory of being with a bunch of my buddies in an empty lot on a warm afternoon. Someone had a pack of cigarettes — Marlboros, I think — which was passed around for everyone to take one. Then a book of matches was passed around and everyone lit his cigarette.

To borrow an infamous phrase from Bill Clinton, I don't think I inhaled on that occasion. That was a talent I learned at another time. That day, I merely sucked the smoke into my mouth, then let it escape without drawing it into my lungs.

I started smoking (and inhaling) on a regular basis when I was a teenager, which, as I have come to realize, is not uncommon. Anyway, I continued smoking — and the volume of my consumption increased — for years until, for reasons I would rather not discuss here, I gave up cigarettes on this day in 2007.

It was unfortunate, to say the least, that I found myself out of a job 1½ years later. I am still unemployed so half the time that I have been smoke–free has also been the most challenging and most difficult time of my life.

To misquote a line from "Airplane!" I picked the wrong year to give up smoking.

In many ways, I guess, it has been good that I have not been smoking. When I started smoking, a pack of cigarettes cost about 50 cents. According to signs I have seen recently at convenience stores, a pack of cigarettes easily costs 10 times that today — so, clearly, it's been to my benefit economically not to smoke.

People also tell me it has been beneficial to my health, and I guess it has. My physical health, anyway. I must admit that there are times when I haven't been as sure about my psychological health. I often miss the calming influence that smoking had on me, but I remind myself that that was the nicotine — and tobacco companies manipulated the nicotine over the years to make sure people like me got hooked and stayed hooked.

There are definitely times, though, when I wonder if giving it up was worth it.

Anyway, if you're a smoker who's been trying to give it up and you're reading this, let me assure you that I know what you're up against. I've written a lot about it.

And the best thing I can do — besides wish you success — is tell you to hang in there. You may feel like you're hanging by your fingernails from the edge of a long, steep cliff. And you may not feel like you can hang in there much longer. But remind yourself of the money you're saving. And congratulate yourself for not putting your money in the pockets of the tobacco companies. They've already made their fortunes on the lives of hundreds of thousands of others.

Then, if you're married, think about the gift of cleaner air that you're giving your spouse. If you have children, think about the gift of cleaner air that you're giving them.

Think about anything that motivates you. Use little tricks to help you stay on course. You can find lots of tips on smoking cessation at all sorts of web sites. Find a good support group.

Be prepared for anything. Most people who try to give up smoking aren't successful the first time. Some have to make several attempts before they finally make it. And nicotine, I learned, is crafty. It finds out how you're vulnerable and it attacks that weak point.

In my case, it was when I went to sleep at night. It invaded my dreams to the extent that I would wake up convinced that my smokeless streak had been broken. Then I would waste a lot of time searching my apartment for evidence that I had given in to temptation — but, of course, there was no evidence.

I still have those dreams from time to time, but they aren't as frequent nor are they as vivid as they were — so I guess I'm winning this battle.

I still refuse to regard myself as an "ex–smoker," even though my friends tell me I have earned the right to think of myself in that way.

But, as I have often written, I think of myself as a "recovering smoker," in much the same way that AA members think of themselves as recovering alcoholics.

I have never met an AA member who believed he/she had won the battle with alcohol. AA members will tell you that they are powerless over alcohol; therefore, they are always vigilant. The battle is not over for them because they know that alcohol will seize control at the first opportunity.

It is with that kind of reverence that I regard nicotine. At this point, I cannot imagine a circumstance in which I would be convinced that the battle was over and I had won. I've had the upper hand for nearly 1,100 days. That is good, but it could all be wiped out if I let down my guard.

Recovering, not triumphant, works for me. What works for you?

A Personal Milestone

Today is a significant day for me.

It has been 2½ years — 30 months — since my last cigarette.

It hasn't been easy. It still isn't easy. You can believe me when I tell you that being unemployed and not smoking when I have been under the most stress has been one of the hardest things I have ever done.

And I can honestly say that I never thought I would be able to give it up. I loved smoking. But, so far, I have been successful.

Some of my friends tell me that, after 30 months, I am an "ex–smoker." But I can't bring myself to refer to myself in that way. I call myself a "recovering smoker." I guess that's my way of acknowledging that nicotine is a slippery foe. Like a poisonous gas creeping into a room through the slender spaces in a door or a windowsill, nicotine finds you and pinpoints your greatest weaknesses.

That's why tobacco companies manipulated the nicotine content in their products. It is the key to addiction.

And, when I think of what the tobacco companies did to keep their revenue coming in, it makes me angry.

I respect nicotine's power. I think that is where a lot of people make their mistake. They don't have enough reverence for what nicotine can do. Consequently, they aren't prepared. Then it becomes a mismatch. Nicotine will win when the first craving hits.

To win this fight, a smoker must be mentally and physically prepared.

I'm not ready to claim victory. To me, it seems that, if I do claim victory, I'll let my guard down, and nicotine will snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

But, after 2½ years, I feel that I've done pretty well. I've gone 915 days — not bad. Let's see how long I can keep this streak going.

And, if you are a smoker and you're thinking about giving it up, I'll just say this. I never thought I would be able to say that I had been smoke–free for 30 months. But I have been.

If I can do it, anybody can. Find the strategy that works for you. Good luck.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

I've come to a conclusion today.

New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd is blinded by her adoration for Barack Obama. And that colors (if you'll pardon the expression) how she feels about everything else.

I will admit, there was a time when I was a regular reader of Dowd's columns. In addition to agreeing with many of the things she said, I admired her way with words. But I've felt myself growing more distant from her in the last couple of years, and I have wondered why that was so.

Today's column brought a lot of things into focus for me.

In that column, she writes critically of Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi's apparent infidelities. This is not a new topic for her. She has written similarly critical columns about Democrats Bill Clinton and John Edwards, but Republicans have not been left out. On the eve of the 2008 Democratic National Convention, she obsessed about John McCain's "dalliances" that led to the breakup of his first marriage — and I presume she will write about John Ensign, too, when she gets around to it. And she'll probably have something to say about Mark Sanford after she's had a chance to absorb the news.

In fact, based on some of the things she wrote about President Clinton, I really thought she would be a supporter of Hillary Clinton during last year's campaign — if only out of sympathy. But she pretty much disabused me of that notion long before she wrote about a "duel of historical guilts" between misogyny and racism around the time of last year's Texas primaries.

Now, in case I haven't made this point clear in my previous writings, I don't approve of anyone, male or female, cheating on a spouse. I believe marriage is a commitment, and I was brought up to believe that you honor your commitments. In fact, it is for that reason that I have supported proponents of same–sex marriage. I am not gay, but I do not believe that two people who want to make a public commitment to each other should be prevented from doing so.

I believe that people who are in the public eye have a responsibility to set a good example. I don't believe that responsibility is confined to the bedroom. I'm not so sure how Dowd feels about it.

Dowd apparently watched Obama's press conference yesterday. She may have been one of the reporters who was there. I don't know. I didn't see her there, but that doesn't mean she wasn't there.

For that matter, she may well have been on hand when Obama signed the tobacco bill into law on Monday.

Whether she was or not, she seems far too eager, in today's column, to give Obama a free pass on smoking.

"Sneaking a smoke now and again is not the worst presidential flaw imaginable," she writes. (I think I can guess, from reading her column over the years, what she does think is the worst presidential flaw imaginable. If infidelity isn't at the top of her list, my guess is that appearing to be weak and indecisive might be, and I'm sure there are those who would agree.)

She goes on to make observations like this: Obama is "positively monkish" compared to Berlusconi. What does the word "monkish" imply to you?

Then, after reciting Berlusconi's transgressions at length, she writes that she finds it "interesting" that Obama, with his "daunting discipline," is unable to "apply his willpower to cigarettes."

She proceeds to turn the rest of her column into a defense of Obama's style. She never takes him to task for the mixed signals he sends to "the next generation of kids" that both Obama and Dowd insist the legislation is designed to help.

Perhaps that is because she fails to recognize that her own language belittles the effort it takes to quit smoking. She falls back on the word "willpower," which tends to imply that anyone who is unable to give up smoking lacks discipline or self–control.

"Willpower," to me, is as misleading, when one is discussing smoking, as the word "habit." Nicotine, as Dowd's own New York Times has been telling people for more than two decades, is tougher to shake than "heroin, cocaine or amphetamines, and for most people more addictive than alcohol."

"Addiction" is the appropriate word. How else can you explain why millions of Americans continue to smoke in spite of the clear evidence of the death and disease smoking causes?

For many people, giving up smoking may require someone's help. It may require medication. It is not simply a bad habit that can be broken by the sheer force of "willpower." It is not a moral shortcoming.

The tobacco companies have known this for a long time. It is why they manipulated the nicotine content in their products.

One of the things this new law is designed to do is allow the feds to monitor the amount of nicotine in cigarettes. That's good, but it isn't enough to deter young would–be smokers.

When I began smoking as a teenager, I didn't read the warning labels on cigarette packages. Tobacco companies might have been manipulating nicotine in those days as well. I don't know. I didn't check whatever such information was printed on cigarette packages when I was in high school.

But I did observe what the adults — the famous and the ordinary — said and did.

What's the message that Barack Obama is sending to the young people he would like to discourage from smoking when he calls himself a "former smoker," yet admits he still smokes from time to time?

Because I have been what I call a "recovering smoker" for more than two years, some of my friends who are trying to shake their addictions have sought my advice. A friend of mine, who lives in another state, called me a few weeks ago to tell me she had gone a month without smoking. I congratulated her, but I knew from experience that it wasn't over.

And it wasn't. About a week later, she sent me an e–mail telling me that she had been on vacation for a week. She visited a cousin who, unaware that she was giving up tobacco, had purchased a carton of cigarettes for her before her arrival.

"I only smoked a couple each day," she said, apparently proud of her "accomplishment." Sorry, but, if you smoked at all, you're still a smoker.

Smokers have a way of rationalizing these things. And that's what Obama is doing when he claims to be a former smoker but he admits that he still smokes from time to time. He rationalizes it by telling people that he doesn't smoke every day, that he doesn't chain smoke.

Mr. President, this isn't about volume or frequency.

The truth is, you aren't an ex–smoker until you've purged your body of nicotine completely. And, even if you do that, you may prefer to continue to think of yourself as a "recovering smoker," as I do. As I wrote yesterday, asserting that you are a former smoker implies that you believe you have won the struggle with tobacco.

I respect this adversary far too much to assume that.

And, for Ms. Dowd's benefit, what does it say about Obama's marital commitment? Before he entered the 2008 presidential race, he made a deal with his wife. In exchange for her support for his decision to run, he would give up smoking.

Obama announced his candidacy on Feb. 10, 2007. That was more than 28 months ago. His wife held up her end of the bargain. Has Obama held up his?

Infidelity isn't the only way someone can betray a spouse's trust.

Obama Admits Falling off the Wagon

Since my blog post this morning, Barack Obama has held a press conference and, among other things, he acknowledged that he still smokes now and then.

As I've pointed out before, it's hard to give up smoking. The president has taken the same approach I have — sort of. In his statements today, he compared his smoking addiction to alcoholism, which is the same thing I have done. For more than two years, I have referred to myself as a "recovering smoker." That is my way of acknowledging that backsliding is always possible.

Frankly, though, I think I have been more honest with myself than Obama has. Even after more than 27 smoke–free months, I simply cannot refer to myself as an "ex–smoker." To me, such a phrase implies that the fight is over and I won.

I think the likelihood of stumbling becomes more remote with each passing day, but is the fight over? Have I won? I don't think so.

And, as long as I feel that way, I will remain on my guard.

Obama's words suggest (to me, anyway) that he is kidding himself.

"[A]s a former smoker I constantly struggle with it," he said today. "Have I fallen off the wagon sometimes? Yes. Am I a daily smoker, a constant smoker? No."

That tells me that he is trying to quit, which is commendable. It also tells me that he is finding it difficult to do, which it is.

He calls himself a "former smoker," but how can one be a former smoker if one admits to still smoking, even if it is occasionally?

His motivations are good. "[L]ike folks who go to A.A., you know, once you've gone down this path, then, you know, it's something you continually struggle with," he said, "which is precisely why the legislation we signed was so important, because what we don't want is kids going down that path in the first place."

I applaud Obama for what he is trying to do. And I applaud him for admitting how tough it is. But it will continue to be tough as long as he continues to give in to temptation. And the war will not be won.

I don't think he is a "former" smoker. He has admitted that, like so many smokers, he began smoking when he was a teenager. He will be 48 in August. That means he has been smoking for around three decades. It's hard to stop doing anything you've been doing that long.

Obama may not be a heavy smoker. He may not be a chain smoker. But that is only a difference of degrees. Until he rids his body of the nicotine that controls him, he will continue to be a smoker. And, in that respect, there will be little difference between him and someone who smokes two or three packs a day.

If he wants to be a role model who keeps young people from following him "down that path," he still has a lot of work to do.

He isn't completely off that self–destructive path. Not yet.

Smokescreens

Smoking is a tough habit to give up.

I don't need anyone to tell me that. I know from personal experience. I stopped smoking more than two years ago. But as I have told my friends frequently, I don't consider myself an "ex–smoker." I consider myself a "recovering" smoker, not unlike a recovering alcoholic. The chances that I'll "fall off the wagon" seem to be more remote with each passing day, but I feel that, if I continue to acknowledge the possibility of backsliding, I'll be better equipped to avoid it.

It's my personal strategy.

I have many friends who still smoke. And I've assured them that, whatever my personal opinions may be, I will never tell them what they should or should not do. I believe, as I always have, that adults should be allowed to make their own decisions.

Nevertheless, I'm glad Congress overwhelmingly approved legislation that gives the Food and Drug Administration greater authority over the tobacco industry, including the ability to regulate the ingredients in tobacco products and to control advertising.

That's a good step — but it's long overdue. It's been nearly half a century since the government began taking baby steps toward regulation of tobacco products by printing the somewhat innocuous warnings on cigarette packages that smoking "may be hazardous to your health."

Subsequent studies only reinforced the early conclusions about the risks posed by tobacco consumption — but, during the interim, cigarette manufacturers were proactive at protecting their turf and seeking to expand it. It was a few years after the surgeon general's initial warning before TV banned cigarette advertising. And it took a quarter of a century for the government to ban smoking on airplane flights. During that time, we know that tobacco companies worked to manipulate the nicotine content of their products to ensure that consumers would become addicted faster — and would face greater difficulty "kicking the habit."

The legislation that sailed through Congress will, at long last, bring some major changes to the tobacco industry. Hopefully, with this new legislation — soon to be signed into law by a president who has admitted to his own struggle with the smoking habit — fewer young people will be lured into tobacco use.

And, in a nation that finally seems to be serious about health care, that seems to be the surest way to eliminate one of the greatest threats to public health.

Smoking in the Movies

The American Medical Association Alliance wants any movie with scenes that show people smoking to be given an R rating.

I'll confess to having mixed feelings about this. For many years, I was a smoker. Two years ago, for mostly personal reasons (which I do not wish to discuss here), I gave it up. So I feel that I can sympathize with both sides.

You can make the case that depictions in the movies of certain activities deserve an R rating because those activities are illegal. Most violent acts, for example (and I say "most" because there may be exceptions — and, by the way, boxing movies are in an entirely different category and thus part of an entirely different conversation), are illegal, but not all films that include violence are restricted.

Clearly, smoking is not a healthy activity, but it is a legal one.

Of course, sex is legal, too, but admission to films in which naked bodies can be seen usually is restricted as a means of protecting young people. Whether such restrictions have kept any young people from following up on their normal sexual curiosity is open to debate.

The idea behind ratings is to help parents decide whether a particular film is suitable for their children. But I would argue that the ratings themselves are too vague.

When I was a teenager and I saw that a film was rated R, it never occurred to me that it might be because of the language the characters used (I figured I had heard it all from people my own age, even younger) or because of the substances the characters consumed (I had seen adults, as well as people my own age, consuming legal and illegal substances) or because one or more of the characters got punched, shot or stabbed.

I figured it was because nudity could be seen. When I was a teenager, I never expected to see nudity, even briefly, in a PG movie — and I remember being mildly shocked, in 1975, when I saw brief nudity in a PG movie called "Smile," which was a comedy about the kind of community–sponsored beauty pageants that were popular in those days.

Things don't seem to have changed much. The top–grossing film last year, "The Dark Knight," was given a PG–13 rating. It had plenty of scenes in which violence was implied. Drug use was implied. Sex was implied. The film wasn't graphic, but it was intense.

Likewise, the second highest–grossing film of 2008, "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull," was rated PG–13. There was plenty of violence in the film, although it wasn't always caused by the humans, but it was more explicit than the violence in "The Dark Knight." Profanity was brief. So was substance consumption. I recall no nudity, only sexual innuendo.

Certainly, there are some stories that can't be told honestly unless smoking is included. Typically, those movies are historical films, dealing with times when less was known about the effects of smoking and tobacco consumption was far more extensive than it is today.

One such story is "Good Night and Good Luck," which deals with an important period in modern American history. The central character, Edward R. Murrow, was a heavy smoker. His story cannot be told honestly unless he is shown smoking. That film was rated PG.

Another historical film, Oliver Stone's "JFK," shows many investigators smoking. The year of President Kennedy's assassination was the year before the surgeon general first reported a link between smoking and cancer. If you look at film footage from 1963, you'll see many people smoking.

"JFK" was rated R — but not because of smoking.

There's no doubt, though, that children emulate what they see, whether it's behavior in the movies or in their real lives. And I applaud those who want to limit their exposure to smoking in the movies.

But I think the entire ratings system should be overhauled. If a film is going to be rated R, adults deserve to know why it received that rating. Was it because of the violence? Was it due to depictions of drug use? Was it profanity? Was it nudity? Was it smoking?

The current ratings system simply doesn't provide enough information.

And, while we're taking steps to discourage exposure to smoking in the movies, it would be a good idea to revisit the idea of banning candy cigarettes as well. It is my understanding that attempts were made to do just that in 1970 and 1991, but they failed.

Recent research indicates that candy cigarettes desensitize children to the hazards of smoking and makes them more likely to smoke real cigarettes when they get older. What's more, it seems to me that consuming candy cigarettes must contribute to the obesity problem in America.

Thus, banning them from the market would benefit long–term public health in a couple of ways.

Where There's Smoke ...

It's an ordinary part of day-to-day life now, so much so that most people probably don't give it much thought, but those health warnings on cigarette packages actually got their start on this date in 1964.

The surgeon general, Dr. Luther Leonidas Terry (pictured at left), published a report that cautioned that smoking might be hazardous to a person's health. Up to that point, no such suggestion had ever been made by the U.S. government.

Today, of course, the warnings are much more explicit than they were in Dr. Terry's day, mainly because research has revealed that he was correct. Medical science knows much more about the ill effects of smoking than it did 45 years ago, when smoking was permitted everywhere, even in hospital waiting rooms.

I recall that, when I was a teenager in the 1970s, smoking was still allowed in some places where smoking would be unthinkable today — movie theaters, for example.

And, when I was a young adult, smoking in the workplace was not banned, as it is in just about every workplace today. (I say "just about" because there may be some exceptions to that rule in some places — but I imagine that few exist anymore. I don't think any office in which I've worked in the last 20 years has allowed people to smoke at their desks.)

In recent years, though, more and more communities have banned smoking in public places, in sports arenas, in restaurants, even bars. Some smokers have tried to fight these regulations, protesting that smoking is not illegal and that government oversteps its bounds by playing "mother hen."

No one, to my knowledge, has ever claimed that giving up smoking is easy. Early anti-smoking campaigns may have understated the situation by encouraging smokers to simply "kick the habit" — implying that it's all a matter of "will power" and that failing to give up a vice that is now known to cause cancer, heart disease and a lengthy list of other health problems is a moral shortcoming.

But Dr. Terry, who died in 1985, deserves credit for being the visionary who first alerted the public to the dangers of what was a seemingly innocuous habit. His report led to the passage of the Cigarette Labeling and Advertising Act of 1965 — which was maligned by many at the time but may have played a key role in the reduction in smoking rates in this country.

The fight hasn't been won yet, though. About one-fifth of Americans continue to smoke.

The Obama Obsession

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"In just a few weeks the young man would become President of the United States, and to the newspapermen standing outside his Georgetown house, there was an air of excitement about every small act, every gesture, every word, every visitor to his temporary headquarters. They complained less than usual, the bitter cold notwithstanding; they felt themselves part of history: the old was going out and the new was coming in, and the new seemed exciting, promising."

David Halberstam
"The Best and the Brightest"

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Something's been bothering me since the November elections, and I've been trying to put my finger on it for the last five weeks.

I think I've come close to identifying it.

There is an obsession in the land, and I'm not referring to the Calvin Klein perfume or an old song by Guns N' Roses or any one of several films with "obsession" in the title.

I'm referring to the general public (as well as media) infatuation with Barack Obama.

For some reason, many of the people who voted for Obama seem to be under the impression that everything will start to improve immediately when he takes office.

I wrote about this, indirectly, after reading a column by Gail Collins in the New York Times a few weeks ago that suggested that George W. Bush and Dick Cheney should resign and let Nancy Pelosi become president.

In the interim between taking office and Obama's January 20 inauguration, Collins wrote, Pelosi could start implementing Obama's policies.

At the time, I observed that Collins' suggestion was creative but improbable.

However, it's also indicative of a much greater public psychological problem.

Bush may be the lamest lame duck you've ever seen hobbling around the West Wing, but he's still the duly elected president until Obama takes the oath of office.

I'll grant you that nothing, constructive or otherwise, is being done in the waning days of Bush's watch. And Collins made a valid point by quoting presidential historian Michael Beschloss, who observed that "Doing nothing is almost the worst thing a president can do."

Perhaps, over the long haul, Bush's do-nothing, limp-across-the-finish-line approach won't make a real difference — other than to reinforce the perception of him as a puppet ruler. It certainly won't enhance his "legacy," such as it is.

But it just might not make any difference.

Obama talked a lot during the campaign about health care reform, which is a noble endeavor. But, as the Clintons learned, it's much easier said than done.

As Robert Laszewski argued in an entry in The Health Care Blog a few days after the election, major health care reform is not likely in 2009 or 2010 — even with a Democratic president and sizable Democratic majorities in the House and Senate.

In fact, Laszewski pointed out, Obama will have the same majorities in both chambers that Bill Clinton had when he took office in 1993.

"In the House ... last session we had 49 'Blue Dog' Democrats and will have at least that many this time," he wrote. "Without 'Blue Dog' support, the Democrats will not have a majority on any health care bill. No big health care reform can pass without the support of these fiscally conservative Democrats who are pledged to a pay-as-you-go policy ...

"In the Senate, it appears the Democrats should have 57 or 58 seats in January. But Republicans can stop a big Democratic health care bill with only 41 votes and they will likely have 42 or 43. Forty-three is exactly the number of seats Bob Dole had when he stopped the Clinton Health Plan in 1994."

As I say, it may make no long-term difference if Bush spends his final weeks as president picking out the carpets and drapes for his new home in an affluent section of Dallas. But it's not making things easier for the team that will take over in January.

And, after Obama takes office, Collins and many of the millions of Americans who voted for him may be disappointed to learn that a change in administration does not mean immediate change, no matter how earnestly it may be desired.

This is not a dictatorship — remember how Bush suggested that everything would be easier if it were? — and a president must work with 100 senators and 435 representatives.

Obama doesn't have a full term in the Senate under his belt, but he's been around long enough to know how the system works.

And he spent enough time on the campaign trail to know how impatient the press can get. If he forgot in the weeks since the campaign ended, he got a reminder during the weekend, when he was interviewed by Tom Brokaw on "Meet the Press."

Brokaw quizzed Obama on economic issues, foreign affairs and even zeroed in on his smoking habit, which reportedly is more than two decades old now.

Obama also reportedly has struggled in recent years to give it up.

"Have you stopped smoking?" Brokaw asked directly, just before the end of the interview.

Obama, who had fielded a variety of questions, seemed to be caught off-guard. He said he had stopped smoking, but he admitted that "there are times where I have fallen off the wagon."

Brokaw jumped. "Wait a minute. That means you haven't stopped."

Obama retreated, saying "Fair enough," then asserting that he had done a "terrific job under the circumstances of making myself much healthier."

That's good for Obama, but he can be a real role model by being as public as possible about his quest and encouraging those who are trying to stop smoking in the current economy. Tough times require straight talk.

"People will not stop smoking in recession, they might even smoke more because they are nervous," a professor at London's Cass Business School told Reuters.

Do you suppose that means the tobacco companies won't be needing a bailout?

I know how difficult it is to stop smoking. Obama certainly isn't the first person who has done some backsliding when trying to give it up. But reforming the health care system is going to be even more difficult — and require more long-term dedication.

So will mending the economy.

So will securing our borders — and ending an unpopular war.

Might be a good idea to hold off on those commemorative plates and coins celebrating Obama's inauguration.

I know there's a temptation to try to make a few bucks from the historic inauguration of the first black president.

But every president — good or bad — has taken the oath of office.

Let's wait until Obama has done something to commemorate — other than raising his right hand.