I don't smoke cigarettes. Or cigars. Or anything that has tobacco in it. I never really understood the attraction. There was no mind-altering experience accompanying the smoke, and I never got hooked (so it wasn't necessary to smoke to feel normal). I've probably smoked 10 cigarettes and maybe a couple of cigars in my entire life. And that might be overestimating things.

But I do have friends who have smoked for a number of years, maybe even up to a third or half of their lives. When they're at my house, they have to go outside to smoke (I usually join them to continue the conversation). And, in many cases, when they are at their own houses, they have to go outside, too. This has been a popular trend in the last ten years, and the demonization of tobacco has made almost every smoker I know apologize, cower and do the little shuffle out the door when the need arises.

The only place where my smoking friends feel comfortable with lighting one up is in bars. We go out and drink and usually somewhere between the first and second beer, the cigarettes have begun to burn. I don't mind. When I go out to bars, I expect to have a bit of smoke clinging to me when I get home. It's not as bad as it was when I first turned 21. The number of smokers (or people who smoke in public) has gone down significantly in the last ten years.

I never meet a smoker anymore who is proud of their habit. Flagrantly blowing their smoke at everyone in sight, announcing that, because of the toxins coming out of their mouths, everyone in the room is going to die early and ugly deaths from second hand smoke. It's not cool to be a smoker these days. Well, it's not cool after you graduate from high school.

The one segment of the population where I still see the attitude about smoking are kids. Maybe it's still exciting or rebellious or looks cool to them. Actually, it does look pretty cool to smoke. But the only ones who really like to boast about this are kids. All-ages concerts, drive up eateries, parking lots, or one foot away from the school barrier, that's where the largest concentrations of smokers are. And the thing is, they're not even very good at it. But they're trying really hard.

The whole point of this examination is the proposed law in Albuquerque to prohibit smoking in restaurants. Most restaurants still allowing smoking have designated smoking areas (usually well ventilated), but apparently this is not enough. And the designation of what a restaurant and a bar (which the bill would not prohibit smoking in) comprises is very smoky indeed.

According to this bill (which has not yet been signed by the mayor), any establishment making more than 50% of their revenue from food is a restaurant. The sponsor of the bill (which has passed the city council) says a bar is a place serving peanuts, popcorn or maybe nachos at the most.

I wonder where this guy hangs out. 80% of the bars I go to serve food. Like dinners, lunches, sandwiches, as well as the usual assortment of appetizers. It makes sense. You have people drinking alcohol. To make sure they don't get overly hammered, it's good to offer them food to absorb some of that drink. Insurance is much lower for bars, and it's easier to get a liquor license if you serve food.

But if you asked me if these places were restaurants or bars, I would say they are bars. You have to be 21 to get in. The main centerpiece of action is the long bar where the bartender slings beers, mixed drinks and whatever else people want to get swinging with. The food is not the main attraction, the drinks are. These are not family restaurants where you can get a drink, which are the places where this bill was supposed to prohibit smoking.

These definitional problems are at the center of this particular smoking debate. So far, no one has thought of the very easy solution to this dilemma: Do you have to show an ID to get in?

It's legal for people over the age of 21 to both drink and smoke. If you have to be 21 to get into a place, you are an adult. As an adult, you can make the decision if you want to drink or eat around smokers. Period. End of story. There's your definition.

But it's never this easy. The city council, most of whose members probably haven't had to show their IDs for the last thirty years, is a little dense on this. They want to base rules on money, attitudes and some weird sense of political correctness.

My thought on this is rather clear: I don't want my friends to have to scurry out of the bar to quickly suck down a cigarette and then come back in and go, "What were we talking about again?" And girls who smoke are kind of sexy, as well as orally fixated (here comes the smiley face). I don't think my life is getting shortened to any great extent because of second hand smoke. And since the years are taken off the end of my life, well, who cares? I've never been good at hanging on until the bitter end anyway.

So wake up, councilors. A bar is a bar is a bar. How much food is served has nothing to do with it. You should be appreciative that bars want to fill their customers' stomachs with something other than just alcohol. And, for the mayor, veto this bill and make them come up with something that makes sense.

Matt Worley smokes in a totally different way.