Every fall of my boyhood ended in a barn
Leaf takes land, weather, hands and time.
Stand in a tobacco barn in Middle Tennessee in late October. The light comes through the gaps in the boards in long yellow bars, and over your head the burley hangs tier on tier into the dark. Hollis grew up in a barn like that, cutting and hanging tobacco by hand with his father every fall.
Now walk into a cigar shop sixty years later. The clerk sets down a cigar with a gold band and a story about a rare harvest, and your hand is already headed for your wallet.
"Leaf takes land, weather, hands and time, and those cost money. A gold band takes a printer."
That's what this book is about: knowing what a cigar's price actually buys, so your money goes to the leaf and the hands that rolled it.