I enjoy a good cigar–about once a year. That's probably because it takes about a year to get the taste out of my mouth and restore my taste buds to their native state. I am due for smoke this Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks. Thanks for this great cigar that I am enjoying and thank god I don't smoke them more often.
San Diego has some fine cigars. A few years back Peggy, Wendy, Pam and I attended the conference put on by the American Institute of Architects at the San Diego Conference Center. Wendy and Peggy were speakers and Pam and I got to wander and wonder at the interesting things being done with shelter and materials. In the evenings we strolled San Diego streets and enjoyed not being in Minnesota. There seemed to be a proliferation of people hand rolling cigars in shop doorways. The cigars looked really good. I thought about having one, but didn't. It wasn't Thanksgiving after all.
San Diego has some fine cigar factories including the one listed, the Cuban Cigar Factory. This is because San Diego is so close to Cuba.
Wait, I just looked it up and San Diego is actually closer to Tijuana. It would be Miami that is close to Cuba. They both seem to have dolphins, but I can find no other logical connection. So, why does San Diego have so many people rolling cigars? I’ll have to get back to you on that.
One more cigar item, then you can go. My dad, whom many of you know as Don or Unca Don, used to smoke cigars quite a bit. He smoked a pipe too, but not when driving. More’s the pity. It seemed on many cold days (September to June in Michigan). We would be traveling to Flint or to one of those nursing homes we were always hanging out at. Dad would fire up a stogie and our environ was suddenly dense with smoke. Torn between the need to stay warm and the need to breathe us kids would stick our little noses to a window opening. With three kids someone was always stuck in the middle. The middle child had to claw her (you didn’t think it would be me did you?) way over one of the others to suck in breathable air. This put her in the position of violating the temporary alliance she may have previously established with that sibling, but whaddya gonna do?
Somehow we survived it. Heck, I don't even hate the smell of cigars, but guess who does? Yup. Don goes ballistic if someone as close as Olympia lights up.
Think I’ll go have a cigar.
