This snap from today's obituary in the Guardian for one Carl Reiner, from those happy days when one smoked away without a thought for the future. Except, perhaps, to wonder when the char was going to turn up to empty the ash tray.
Maybe, given that he lived to be 98, he gave up not so long after this snap was taken.
Maybe also, given the absence of anything other than the man himself and his typing table, the snap has been carefully crafted and posed. Maybe he - or his publicist - was projecting an image which had nothing to do with his own habit.
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