By BEHN FER. HORTALEZA, JR.

MY late father, a cop all his fruitful life who retired as a police colonel with unblemished record, never smoked; neither did he drink. A teetotaler, as the late poet-fictionist by the Pantal river and one of my great literary mentors in college and in my later years as a columnist-editor, Armando R. Ravanzo, would quaintly label those of that species of humanity.

In a way, yes, I have taken after that firm resolve of my dad not to smoke – or drink liquor in excess thereby making a fool of oneself — though you can say I applied it in quite another field, journalism, my career and passion. This, I know, is a cardinal violation of the unwritten code of newspapermen, that is, to drink like a fish and write like a demon. Frankly, I don’t know how I’ve come along this far, in this trade without the two “must” vices. Back in my mid-30s, I’ve asked myself if I am worth being considered a journalist without these pre-requisites for “membership” in the fraternity of news and opinion writers.
Maybe, I’m in the twilight zone insofar as these “necessary traits” are concerned.

Now that I’m pushing 50-plus, I believe it’s all a matter of comfort or what you’re more at ease with while doing your job, a matter of getting used to one’s own habits, bad or good. And I don’t give a damn whether I’m called a journalist or not because of this, well, default. * * * *
About smoking, like many on the road I guess, I am quite annoyed by that cigarette smoke. Nope, I’m not allergic to it physically and you won’t find me asking a smoker-friend to maintain a distance, especially when I’m in an animated conversation with them. I can, in other words, take it in to a tolerable extent. If that’s their poison, I’m not about to stop them, that is, unless they’re family, in which case, gentle, jocular reminders are all they’ll hear from me.

What really upsets me is seeing any young boy, (more, if it’s a teen girl) not yet 10 or 12, standing by the road, puffing away at a stick like there was no tomorrow, squinting as he does so from all the smoke he spews. The quest to grow up and be “one of the boys” at such early age by smoking isn’t quite right, by any standards, health, economics, religion or whatever else.

It’s literally burning oneself to death early in life.

The parent or guardian who allows or tolerates such vice in his young deserves to be burned on the stakes for it. Let them grow up at least to full age without all that nicotine in their system; by then they’ll have the fair chance to understand if lighting a cigarette is best or worst for them.

Too bad, there’s nothing in our local statute books that disallows and penalizes smoking among children and teeners. Only drinking liquor among minors, it seems, gets frowned upon and outlawed in this permissive society. A case of crooked perception.