I haven't quite figured out how cigar smoking got taken over by Wall Street types who wear red suspenders. I haven't figured it out partly because I don't like to think about it. I don't like to think about it because I'm afraid I'll start wallowing in nostalgia for the days back in Kansas City when stogies were smoked by people like my cousin Sam, a man who played in the American Legion drum-and-bugle corps and never heard of a power breakfast.

I hasten to say that I am not bringing this up out of concern for the health of Wall...

Want the full story?

Subscribe Now


Learn more about the benefits of being a TIME subscriber

If you are already a subscriber sign up — registration is free!