My Cigar: a short reflection of smoke.

"The cigar is the perfect complement to an elegant lifestyle." -George Sand, pseudonym of French writer Amantine Aurore Lucile Dupin 


Friends, this may be a concise entry, but believe me when I tell you I spend a lot time reflecting while I smoke.  My father recently asked me what the difference was between smoking a cigarette and smoking a cigar.  The answer to that question is loaded with hours of argument, discussion, research and detail.  Rather than subject him or you to all of it, I have always believed that cigar smoking comes down to one simple great detail: friendship.

As I sit here on a Sunday afternoon at my local cigar lounge, I am surrounded by the reason I took up cigars in the first place.  Cast out in front of me are several tables filled with people all sharing a good smoke on a fine afternoon.  I am the lone gunmen in this crowd, as I am the only person with no present company. 

This is the only time and place that I choose to smoke alone.  I take each Sunday afternoon for myself.  It is an extension of church, a continual time of reflection of my life, the past week, the days ahead, etc. 

But, as I sit here this weekend, a part of this sampling of society's spice rack, I smile.

Everyone is locked in discussion, celebrating life and friendship.

This is why I love cigars.  It brings together a mass array of people for no other purpose but to enjoy one's company. 

Why do I smoke cigars?  This. Now.

I have been accused of being in the moment to a fault, but meant as a complete compliment.  The word apologist has never been used to describe me and probably never will.  The cigar I smoke is a continual celebration of the life I lead, the life I've had and the life that is coming. 

A few moments after this entry will be posted, I will be watching a football game with my brother and dearest friend.  And, you guessed it, we'll be enjoying what will no doubt be a fantastic cigar.

The quality of the smoke is not finite, because of my amazing and snobbish taste, but because of the company that will be kept. 

Few people realize this simple fact: the only bad smoke(s) I've ever and will ever have are in solitary moments.  Note, my use of the word "smoke" in place of "cigar".  Have I had bad cigars with friends?  Oh, you bet.  But, as terrible as the those experiences were to my palate, they can't match the joy I get from the relationships that have been bonded in the ambiance of cigar smoke.

My cigar is not just a symbol of "elegance" or stature, but a beacon of life's most precious treasure.

So, why my cigar? For the moment, I rest my case.

You know how this one ends guys and gals, there is nothing wrong with knowing you are the best.


Regards,

Bear