I remember when I returned from the National FFA Convention in Kansas City when I was sixteen years old. I was an "official delegate" to the convention, being the Wyoming State FFA president, the highest office I ever held in my life, then or since. I had a cigar in my pocket, which I proceeded brazenly to light up in front of my parents. Ordinarily, this was a mortal sin, and I expected all hell to break loose. Instead, both of my parents just watched for a couple of minutes until I choked, gasped, gagged, and tossed it on the ground. No lecture was needed. I clearly was an inexperienced cigar smoker and I never tried one again.