One cannot truly enjoy a fine cigar without proper accessories. If you’ve smoked a fair number of stogies with me, you know that such utterances emerge from my mouth not as casual observances but as gospel truth, spoken with real conviction. I’ve always viewed my condition as merely being extremely opinionated and very outspoken but a highly paid consultant recently told me I speak in “declarative statements”. I suspect that’s a polite way of saying the same thing but then he asked me to try speaking to a group of people at work without using such statements which meant I could only ask questions and that’s a humorous tale for another day.
I generally get away with this authoritative manner of speech because I usually stick to what I’m really fascinated by and have read a lot about or can back up with personal experience. When facts do occasionally escape me as I’m mouthing off, usually with a drink in my hand, I just resort to the finely honed debating skills I learned at the family dinner table as a kid — it doesn’t matter if you are full of it as long as you can logic them into the ground and sound convincing while doing it. When I do realize I’m demonstrating a crass blend of arrogance and ignorance due to my head being firmly up my ass, I dump my assertions and assumptions, graciously accept the other person’s assertions and assumptions as truth and make a mental note to learn more about the subject. Do you know what the Hellenic Trough is? Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle — I do now and my world is richer for it.
But have no fear, I’m not here to baffle you tonight. I’m here to share facts and personal experience regarding cigar accessories, backed up with photos and hyperlinks:
Whisky: Whether it be Scottish single malt or a top notch blend, which resonate perfectly with my Scottish Highlander genes, or a fine Canadian product from our Northernly neighbors, whisky is an essential accessory for lovers of the leaf. I am currently enjoying “estate whisky” which means I inherited it. While cleaning out a walk-in closet filled to the brim with clothes, purses, shoes, luggage and other utterly mundane items, I discovered true treasure — boxes of Scottish whisky and a huge purple sack containing a bottle of Crown Royal. I opened one of the boxes of Glenlivet 12 while in Orlando to fortify me while toiling through my estate chores and shipped the rest back to Seattle. The box arrived today and I gleefully unpacked these babies. I carefully read the descriptive text on each box before extracting the bottle within while imagining which cigar I’d be pairing with it — Johnnie Walker Green Label 15 year and a nice Padron, Crown Royal and soda water with a Rocky Patel Decade, Glenlivet 12 with a La Flor Dominicana Coronado, and perhaps an Oliva Serie V Maduro with the Johnnie Walker Black. But when I slid the Johnnie Walker Black out of its box, I did a double take as I discovered it to be two thirds empty. WTF!! My brain immediately flashed back to my high school days where I frequently liberated judicious samples from my Grandfather’s backstock while being careful to close the box back up exactly as I had found it. In hindsight, I didn’t fool him for a second but he never confronted me and I repaid him in many other ways. But who’s been pulling this stunt in my beloved mom-in-law’s liquor closet? Hmmm…tales of her infamous catsitter suddenly come to mind. I chuckle, pour myself a glass, and toast the sly dog, whoever it was. Cheers, mate, and bless you for not siphoning off the JW Green or Glenlivet!
Man Cave Art: I acquired my first piece today from Rain City Cigar, a two foot long wooden replica of a Rocky Patel Decade cigar. When I first saw it hanging on the wall of the store, I was instantly hooked but when Joe, the owner, took it off the wall and showed me the back side of it, I really flipped out — lovingly nestled in a carved out cavity were sixteen RP Decade Robustos! Yes, I know I announced last night to my fellow brothers of the leaf that I have a self imposed cigar buying embargo in effect due to my maxxed out humidors at home, but this doesn’t count — I agreed to purchase it on Christmas Eve and Kirsten, my absolutely favorite cigar store manager, stashed it away in their walk-in humidor in the back until my bank account could catch its breath.
Travel Humidor: Being an ex-Boy Scout, I love being prepared to smoke on a moment’s notice while on the road and being equipped with cool gear. Being a former fisherman as well, I was a bit put off by the ubiquitous plastic tackle box models, so I kept searching for something classier. I found some trick looking aluminum cases but the foam inserts did not float my boat. My efforts finally paid off when I found a one lined with Spanish cedar for a price a Scotsman could love. I’ve since lost count of how many times I’ve been asked where I got it from and not being one to disappoint my fellow cigar aficionados, I relocated the source today: Famous Smoke Shop
May your ash be firm and your lighter filled,
Leafmeister Duncan */:-)