Word: cheroot
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...wringer or on a bender; even rebels like Brando, Dean and Clift were smooth cheeked. But when Clint Eastwood rode through those Italian westerns in the '60s, a meaner, more maverick kind of frontier hero was born, an amusingly amoral gunslinger whose standard equipment was a Colt Peacemaker, a cheroot, a sarape and a five-day stubble. In 1975 when Italian Designer Giorgio Armani started to show clothes that would turn menswear inside out, his models sported jackets of wrinkled linen and cheeks shadowed by whiskers. Says the designer in retrospect: "It evokes something tender, rather than a polished, sharp...
...University Avenue, the winding road leading to the monsoon-stained mansion where opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi has been under house arrest since September 2000, was still closed off. But behind the sawhorses, blue-trousered municipal workers could be seen repairing potholes and sweeping the sidewalks clear of cheroot butts, palm fronds and bamboo leaves. Neighbors reported that the Nobel Peace Prize winner's lawn was being mowed, her grounds spruced up. A few blocks away, the once forlorn and empty headquarters of the National League for Democracy (NLD), Suu Kyi's political party, was jammed with more than...
...Karens dead and made something in Major Than Maung snap. A few days later, a journalist visited Komura and found the major resting quietly in his bunker, surrounded by dozens of skulls mounted on stakes and planted in tidy rows. When a young Karen soldier playfully stuck a cheroot in the grinning teeth of one skull, the major chased him away. Then he grew quiet again and didn't want to be disturbed...
Lighting up a cheroot and pouring her self something cold, she eases her large bulk into a chair and begins to talk about herself and her friends: Pablo and Ernest, Scott and Henri. Both Henris, in fact, Matisse and Rousseau. Quickly, magically, the audience is gathered into her net of words and realizes what it must have been like to sit opposite Gertrude Stein in her Paris apartment on a stormy day in 1938, when this conversation is supposed to have taken place...
...recently, a broadcasting executive was just settling down to his postprandial cigar when an attractive lady asked him to put it out. He recognized her as Dr. Joyce Brothers, whose cool, blonde analyses unkink snarled psyches on TV and in the newspapers, and hastened to extinguish the cheroot. But the aroma apparently lingered on and Psychologist Brothers came back. "I'll vomit in your lap if you don't put out that cigar," said Dr. Brothers. "You're asking me to put away my virility symbol," answered the traveler, determined to show that he knew a psychological...