BUCKING THE SYSTEM: TAKING RISKS WHEN IT INVOLVES SECONDHAND SMOKE

I take risks ... sometimes.

For example, even though I know I have poor eyesight, on rare occasions I have been known to operate my car and clean my eyeglasses simultaneously.

Not a good idea.

I also took a trip with my husband last summer on the Six Flags ride the Dragonfly. How can an amusement park ride be risky, you ask? Well, just imagine three non-thin people enjoying a 70-foot free fall with nothing but a harness and the love of God to protect them, and you'll understand why that was definitely a risky venture.

It was exhilarating, but I won't be doing that again.

Probably the largest risk that I take is a recurring one which involves very little activity but lots of conversation and frustration. This risk, this ordeal, is my bid to get my husband and father to quit smoking.

Smokers and nonsmokers have very different views about the smoking habit. Have all the arguments you want, but you only see the real differences when a smoker decides to quit for the first time.

As you happily throw away that last soda can partially filled with nasty-smelling, awful-looking cigarette butts, they're wondering what they're going to do with their hands without a cigarette, lighter or ash-catching container to hold.

While you're reveling in the fact they no longer have smoker's breath and enjoying the look of their ever-whitening teeth, they're bemoaning the lack of a lingering taste of bittersweet nicotine on their tongues.

And while you're enjoying the smoke-free atmosphere of your car for the first time since you bought it, they mistily remember the feel of the cold December air rushing in from the car window as they smoked their favorite brand during last year's Christmas trip to Virginia.

Talk about smoke-colored glasses.

Actually, I've been pretty successful in my No Smoking campaign, and both Patrick and Dad have quit several times over the past five years. The problem is they keep returning to their old habits, which means every now and again I have to break out the Smoke Busters R Us campaign.

Have you ever been around a smoker who is trying to quit? It's not a nice place to be. The only thing worse than battling an initial quitter is battling the habitual quitter. Therein lies the risk-taking I mentioned earlier.

My sister, Clarissa, has a hard-nosed anti-smoking campaign. Clarissa's campaign involves telling Patrick and Dad how they're killing the rest of the family with their cancer sticks and how every cough they emit is a sign they have emphysema.

She's direct and she's effective, but she generally just makes them mad and more determined to puff away than ever.

I, on the other hand, enjoy a much more tactful approach. I play on their guilty consciences by telling them everything I've ever heard about the effects of secondhand smoke on children.

I casually mention the news survey I heard about that links smoking to lower birthweight in babies. I leave baby magazines lying around turned to the article I've just read that links how secondhand smoke to increased ear infections and asthma.

Patrick is easier to guilt trip than Dad, who has smoked longer than I've been alive. Whereas Patrick will read the article and hang his head in shame, Dad will listen and laugh, then remind us that neither of his daughters had any additional health problems because of his smoking.

And Patrick, at least, tries to confine his smoking to locations outside the house. Dad firmly reminds us that we are in HIS house and he will not be sent to the back porch. If we don't like it, we can leave.

Even so, both Dad and Patrick quit smoking about the time Jerry was born two years ago. I may be taking a big physical risk by saying this, but I'm confident they're going to quit again before they come around their second son and grandchild.

Was this a shameless plea from a desperate woman trying to keep the lungs of her children (and Mom and sister and self) smoke-free? Of course it was, but here's hoping some other smokers also get the hint and give their loved ones a break.

Like I said before, sometimes I don't mind taking risks.

Tamara Zellars Buck is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.