In a calendar year, I might consume a maximum of five cigars. My wife considers this a crime and a personal attack on her olfactory nerve, but that is far from my intent. I can’t really say that I have a strong palette. As with most things, I am a dilettante at best. But there is something peaceful in a good cigar. And I only get the good ones. How do I know that they’re good? Because people whom I trust to know these things say that they are. I usually pair it with my go-to bourbon and make an evening of it by the fire.
There is something meditative to the consumption of such a sinful item. It can take two hours properly enjoy a cigar. And those hours are usually silent. I could use that.
The truth is, the weight of the current reality is pushing the buttons of everyone I know. The New Normal isn’t pleasant. Everyone feels trapped. So we reach for things that might have some level of comfort associated with them. I don’t know that anything really helps in the long run, but every year is made of days that we must survive.
For what it’s worth, Perdomo Lot 23 are quite nice. Hat tip to my buddy Joe for that one.
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