We are no longer allowed to smoke cigars in New York City and a fine thing it is, too. BUT an old pal took me to a VERY fancy New York restaurant the other night, where we ate ourselves into an absolute tizzy. When we were winding down, I asked for brandy, as old boys sometimes do. The headwaiter was delighted and then asked if we’d like to slip off to a private room, up in the eaves of the building, for a cigar. Could not resist. So retro. So excellent. So appalling. Disgusting Excess Lives! a teeny bit.”
Younger Next Year* *turn back your biological clock
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