By allowing ads to appear on this site, you support the local businesses who, in turn, support great journalism.
Requiem for a master contrarian
Placeholder Image
Only once since my foolish adolescence do I recall actually feeling fortunate to be a smoker, a truly insidious addiction that I have since kicked. It was the slightly chilly Washington evening on which I was joined during a smoke break at a friend's birthday party by Christopher Hitchens, one of the few people who can be called a journalist-intellectual without it sounding like a punch line. How ironic that memory now seems upon hearing the news Thursday that the simultaneously celebrated and vilified curmudgeon had died at age 62 after a long, highly publicized bout with esophageal cancer, an ailment that his smoking certainly didn't help.