I’m sitting in my office, puffing on an old El Rico Habano Double Corona (it has aged very well—you’ll read about it in an upcoming Connoisseur’s Corner) and wrapping up a few final tasks before heading home. The office is closed for the rest of the week, and I’m taking a few additional days of vacation to spend some time with my family. I’m looking forward to the break.
It’s a Thanksgiving tradition, a flag football game (which, inevitably, always includes a fair share of tackling) organized by my good friend Mark. He typically recruits about 20 guys for the game, and we gather on an elementary school field on a cold day not long after Turkey Day, clad in all manner of odd outfits aimed at protecting us against both weather and injury. By the time the slugfest is over, everyone is bone-tired, but happy. The guys slake their thirst at a keg and then fire up cigars provided by yours truly.
I’ve been traveling to cigar country for 13 years. They’re wonderful places, but if you’re visiting a tobacco field or a cigar factory, odds are you won’t be sleeping in a Four Seasons Hotel. There’s even a chance you might have a close encounter with something exotic.
Five hundred of them.
That was obviously the good news part of this blog. The bad news? They’re not for me. They’re one of the cigars the audience will be smoking on Saturday, November 8, at the Big Smoke Las Vegas seminar.
If you watched New York Knicks basketball in the 1990s, you know John Starks very well. He was the dynamic, damn the torpedoes, full-speed ahead shooting guard for the Pat Riley era Knickerbockers, and he played with fire, passion and guts. Playing alongside Patrick Ewing and Charles Oakley, Starks and the Knicks came thisclose to an NBA crown.
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