No Fashion Follower, Me.....
As I'm getting ready to start putting together all the Big Stinkin' gear for the party, I thought I'd put up just a short post about how I got into this cigar thing in the first place.
A little over ten years ago, with the advent of Cigar Aficionado magazine, it seemed like the whole world went cigar crazy, and the fashion of the day was to be seen with a cigar. It was politically incorrect, a sign of rebellion, of power, of saying "I don't care what you think about the smell. I'm a Master of the Universe and I'm gonna smoke one of these big babies."
That's not how I got into this.
In a few weeks, in mid-June, my daughter Alison celebrates her 14th birthday. That means it's been 14 years that I've been smoking cigars. See, it's all her fault.
When Ali was born, there was a great cigar store in the Hartford Civic Center mall, De La Concha (a companion store to the one in New York City). I didn't smoke -- I never even smoked a cigarette. But when your baby is born, tradition says you're supposed to offer everybody a congratulatory cigar. So in to De La Concha I went. On their recommendation, I bought a box of Arturo Fuente Hemingway cigars. I remember they were about $150 for the box.
And I couldn't give 'em away.
Everyone -- and I mean everyone -- I offered a cigar to asked me if they were chocolate. Upon hearing that they were Connecticut broadleaf-wrapped Dominican hand-rolled real tobacco, everyone would wrinkle their nose and immediately decline the offer.
Which left me with an expensive box of cigars sitting in my living room. And I wasn't about to throw those smokes away, dammit. My only alternative, of course, was to smoke them myself.
And I did. Oh, how I did.
They were well-made -- you could see the craftsmanship in them. They forced you to slow down and contemplate. They were relaxing and enticing and intriguing. And it didn't take me long to figure out that I liked to smoke cigars.
And the next thing I knew, everybody else did, too.
Like every fad, the big cigar craze faded. But I never got into this for the fashion. I got into it because I'm cheap. And in the big scope of vices one could have, this isn't really a very expensive one. A $6 cigar and about $8 of port will last me an entire evening. Sitting on the patio, cigar in hand, wine nearby, light music on the stereo, maybe even a fire in the outdoor fireplace, and that's a good night.
I'll have to remember to thank my daughter.
A little over ten years ago, with the advent of Cigar Aficionado magazine, it seemed like the whole world went cigar crazy, and the fashion of the day was to be seen with a cigar. It was politically incorrect, a sign of rebellion, of power, of saying "I don't care what you think about the smell. I'm a Master of the Universe and I'm gonna smoke one of these big babies."
That's not how I got into this.
In a few weeks, in mid-June, my daughter Alison celebrates her 14th birthday. That means it's been 14 years that I've been smoking cigars. See, it's all her fault.
When Ali was born, there was a great cigar store in the Hartford Civic Center mall, De La Concha (a companion store to the one in New York City). I didn't smoke -- I never even smoked a cigarette. But when your baby is born, tradition says you're supposed to offer everybody a congratulatory cigar. So in to De La Concha I went. On their recommendation, I bought a box of Arturo Fuente Hemingway cigars. I remember they were about $150 for the box.
And I couldn't give 'em away.
Everyone -- and I mean everyone -- I offered a cigar to asked me if they were chocolate. Upon hearing that they were Connecticut broadleaf-wrapped Dominican hand-rolled real tobacco, everyone would wrinkle their nose and immediately decline the offer.
Which left me with an expensive box of cigars sitting in my living room. And I wasn't about to throw those smokes away, dammit. My only alternative, of course, was to smoke them myself.
And I did. Oh, how I did.
They were well-made -- you could see the craftsmanship in them. They forced you to slow down and contemplate. They were relaxing and enticing and intriguing. And it didn't take me long to figure out that I liked to smoke cigars.
And the next thing I knew, everybody else did, too.
Like every fad, the big cigar craze faded. But I never got into this for the fashion. I got into it because I'm cheap. And in the big scope of vices one could have, this isn't really a very expensive one. A $6 cigar and about $8 of port will last me an entire evening. Sitting on the patio, cigar in hand, wine nearby, light music on the stereo, maybe even a fire in the outdoor fireplace, and that's a good night.
I'll have to remember to thank my daughter.
posted by Vincent Michael Valvo at 9:29 PM
1 Comments:
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