My religious/cancerous experience

There are film snobs, wine snobs, music snobs, and so on. I am not a cigar snob per se, but I can talk the talk, and I finally got the perfectly legal chance in Aruba to enjoy the producto de Habana that I have read so much about: a sweet, sweet limitado edicion Cohiba cigar. And afterwards, I have never come closer to considering violating the trade embargoes of the United States.

For those of you who are not cigar lovers, skip this paragraph. For those of you who are, I have to say it was the most perfect cigar I have ever enjoyed. Beautiful brown maduro wrapper, springy to the touch, nice torpedo tapered-head (not a true torpedo, but close), and I would guess about a 40 ring. After lighting, it kept a uniform coal the whole way through, and burned evenly and slowly. The draw was phenomenal, and the aftertaste was like slightly overcooked popcorn, never bitter, even towards the end. Being the first cigar I have smoked in years, coupled with its flawless flavor, I was truly blown away.

While enjoying it, I thought of my old friend Russ from Alabama; we taught together for a year, and after school on Fridays would sometimes go to a local smoke shop, walk into the humidor, and pick out something new. Then we'd head to a bar around the corner, fire up the cedar, and enjoy a good smoke, a good beer, and some good company. Good times.

I wonder whatever happened to Russ; I hope he's doing well wherever he is, but for a few minutes last week, he was in Aruba with me enjoying a fantastic Cohiba and laughing about the students.

I still can't blow smoke rings.