Butt out

In a three-day span this past weekend, I spent about 16 hours in a car (to NYC and back) with three other guys – two of whom are smokers. Much as their company was delightful, and they were kind enough to roll down the windows when taking their puffs, I still could’ve done without the fumes.

That said, it was a private space. I was there voluntarily, as was the other non-smoker. And if anyone had stuck his head into the car and told my friends to stop smoking, I would’ve been inclined to tell them to screw off. But apparently, that’s exactly the situation we may face the next time we drive through New Jersey.

As I’ve said before, I’m all for smoking bans in restaurants, bars, and other public places. Less so legions and private clubs, though I at least see the argument. But the only compelling argument for banning it in cars would be if it posed a threat to other drivers – and I suspect sipping a hot coffee, which probably won’t be cracked down on anytime soon, has much more potential for disaster.

I’m not one to invoke Big Brother every five minutes. But this is damn Big Brotherish.