Smoke-free and terror

July? How did that happen, then? I hope this is a good month.

Well, my hair smells nice now, because I washed it last night after S and I returned from a pub where we had had dinner. The food was lovely but I was seated in front of an air conditioning unit, which blew everyone's smoke towards me – not exactly what you need when trying to enjoy food. My clothes and hair stank. My eyes watered. It was the smokers' last chance saloon, though, and it was good to know I was being saturated in smoke for the last time while eating out; today, smoking is banned in enclosed public places. Good.

People talk of the ban as being a breach of human rights. Well, what about my human rights? OK, if people want to smoke, that's fine, but I think it's an imposition to smoke where others are eating. As for the limp refrain: "Well, if you don't like smoke, go somewhere else," well, back at ya.

Talking of human rights, people on a news opinion board have been talking about the attempted attacks on London and the car at Glasgow, and have been saying that our 'rights are being taken from us'. How? Are we talking about CCTV? Well, CCTV will help to find those responsible. ID cards? Big bloody deal (although I don't see how they'll help eradicate terrorism or other crime). What are we scared of? I despair when people trot out statements and abstract views about our 'rights' and 'liberties' without backing them up. It's waffle. It sounds rather paranoid. Cut to the chase, please.

Others have harked back to the war and the Blitz, saying London has been through worse than the latest bomb attempts/car attack. Yes, yes, we know – it's stating the obvious and not exactly insightful, is it? Things have changed. This isn't that kind of 'war'. Anyway, 7/7 was the biggest loss of civilian life due to a bomb on British soil since the Second World War. What? Is this a competition?

I recall the IRA being an unseen but real threat for my entire childhood and most of my adulthood, and yes, Londoners of a certain age will recall those times of constant security alerts, bombs exploding and mass murder. I'm afraid it's disingenuous to say that 'life went on'. For many people it didn't (my friend's family lost many, many friends in Northern Ireland); for others, there was constant disruption, and it was worse than the normal signal failures and cancellations on trains.

Frankly, many of us don't have a choice as to whether we 'carry on as normal'; we aren't being heroic, we are just doing our jobs, living our lives. We can't just stay at home whimpering – and why should we? But we should care. To not be affected at all is insular and ignorant. And possibly dangerous.

So, how can some say that they aren't at all affected by the actions of peculiar, misguided men who are building bombs and using cars as weapons? Being apathetic is as bad as being hysterical. Anger would be a good place to start for those who remain 'unaffected' or disinterested. For a start, we are involved in an illegal war; Blair tied us up with Bush, who has remained silent thus far – I think the news coverage of Gordon Brown in the last couple of days has deliberately steered clear of any mention of cosy shoulder-rubbing with the US. I think the British public will go mad – mad – if we are again caught in flagrante with the US (and its 'war on terror') if (more) people in the UK and Iraq are murdered, maimed or threatened.

Since the day Blair handed over to Brown, I sensed something afoot that made me feel nervous. I hope this is the end of it. But, really, how can it be?

An update to all this stuff: I was at my parents' home today – we watched bits of the Diana concert at a very impressive Wembley Stadium. Cheesy, maybe, but much more fun than watching News 24 or Sky News and feeling depressed. My dad, who worked at the Twin Towers (as was) smiled as he recalled the rush of adrenaline when a concert was about to start.

Then we talked briefly about the car bombs etcetera. Dad recalled how much he had wanted Tony Blair to become PM 10 years ago. "Now... well..." he said, shaking his head. Hearing that really hurt, actually, and made me angrier at what the last Government sparked. My dad's a man who has worked his arse off, lived the life of a good citizen, and now he (and my mum, who is an equally lovely individual) have to think about shit like terrorism. It's really, really not fair.