Old folks and cigars

It occurred to me the other day that old folks and cigars have a lot in common:

1.  Used to be you'd see people enjoying a lot of both on the front porches of homes up and down the street.  Now, not so much.  Seems like "society" has decided that old folks and cigars alike should be kept away from the general populace.  We've set up "designated smoking areas" and "designated old-folks areas" where people may still furtively enjoy one or the other, if they so choose.

2.  Some people think they smell funny.  And some of them do.

3.  Cigars and old folks slow you down.  It takes time to sit and enjoy a cigar, just like it takes time to sit and enjoy someone who just doesn't give a damn about hurrying around at a socially-acceptable, properly-productive rate of speed.

4.  Cigars and old folks have intrinsic value that is unrelated to what they do, or how much they contribute, or how much they cost.  Yesterday I smoked a cigar that I received as a gift.  I have seen that cigar selling for $20.00, though I suppose a savvy shopper could find them for less.  I enjoyed every minute of the 2 hours it took to burn through it.  I didn't enjoy it because it could have cost $20.00 - I enjoyed it because it was a really, really good cigar (My Father 2010 Limited Edition, if you're wondering).  Some people might buy that cigar because it is produced in small quantities, costs a lot, and comes individually-packaged in its own lovely little Spanish cedar box (commonly referred to as a coffin) - a collectible.  If I ever can see my way clear to buy a $20.00 cigar, it will be because I intend to enjoy every puff of smoke it can produce, not because I want to be able to say, "I have a My Father LE Coffin in the humidor."  Old folks - and people in general, of course - aren't commodities or collectibles, though we can sometimes look at them that way.

5.  Some of them really do smell funny.  Oddly, though, many of those funny-smelling cigars taste great, and make great companions for an afternoon smoke.  I wonder if some of those funny-smelling old folks might make the best companions for an afternoon visit.

6.  There's a lot of back-story to each of them.  From birth to death, cigars and people go a fair number of places, and experience a lot of stuff.  You can't just ask a cigar where it was born, where it has been, who has influenced its development.  You have to smoke it, patiently and carefully analyzing and enjoying each puff of smoke.  If you do this well, you can taste the richness of the soil that gave birth to the leaves.  You'll find hints of the long history of tobacco's cultivation.  You'll notice the care of the grower, the harvester, the blender, the roller.  You'll experience the value of proper aging.  You'll understand a little of how mankind turns the God-given elements of earth, wind, fire, and water into an afternoon's enjoyment.  You can't pry this information out of the cigar - it has to share with you on its own terms.  Spend some time with people, and you'll find out that who they are is rooted in who their families have been.  Where they now sit is greatly a function of where they have walked.  You can find out what one person has done with the God-given elements of genetics and environment.  And maybe find more than an afternoon's enjoyment in the process.