I've been talking on the phone to a lot of angry smokers in recent days. They're plenty peeved over efforts by the Erie Times-News, as they see it, to push Erie County Council into banning smoking in bars, restaurants and many public places in northwestern Pennsylvania.

Much of what they say is pretty much on target. In editorials and personal columns, the newspaper has been pushing for a smoking ban for quite some time. Part of it is that many of us have seen how successful the ban in New York state has been. Restaurants and bars there, which used to be smoky and smelly, are now much nicer. When you walk out the door, your clothes don't stink. At the end of the night, after you've watched several bands perform, your eyes don't burn from the smoke.

Dozens of health experts have testified about the dangers of second-hand smoke, which, at the very least, is dangerous for people who've never taken a puff. It's especially hazardous for kids. So, really, a ban on smoking in public places and in restaurants and bars makes sense.

That said, I have a lot of empathy for smokers -- mainly because I grew up in a house full of smnokers and worked in an office where virtually everyone smoked. Of course, my parents -- both of whom were wonderful people -- didn't live very long. My father died of cancer at age 45, and my mother, an extremely heavy smoker, died from heart disease when she was 60. It pains me that neither of them ever got to see my children.

So, why would I feel smokers' pain? Well, because I've seen up close how excrutiatingly hard it is for them to quit. Neither Mom nor Dad was ever able to kick the habit, but both of my brothers and my sister are all ex-smokers. They smoked for years, but, through willpower and, thanks to patient spouses, they finally quit.

For my first 25 years in the newspaper business, few places were as smoky as the newsroom. Because of the stress of deadlines and grouchy editors, almost every newspaper person smoked. Eventually, though, as younger, smarter people joined the staff, there was pressure to turn the room into a smoke-free environment.

At first, half the room was declared a "non-smoking section," and then about two-thirds of the room was off limits to smokers. But that doesn't really work, because smoke still lingers in the air, getting on your clothes and, as the song says, in your eyes. Eventually, the whole building went smoke free, and it's hard to remember now what it was like back then when everyone smoked.

Eventually, Erie's public buildings and bars and restaurants will go smoke-free. If not this time, then next time. Although it's looking as if it might happen soon. It'll be hard on smokers in the beginning, but, really, a ban will benefit everyone: those who don't smoke, as well as those who do, if they quit.

This is certain to play out in public, and it will be open for all to see. That's what will make it interesting.

-- Kevin Cuneo