Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
James Woods, May/Jun 97
(continued from page 1)
"What you got in the box, mister?" he said, gesturing to the cedar box under my arm.
"A man of your pedigree would hold no interest in the contents," I replied. He looked baffled, but angry at my response and pointed his revolver at my wife. I wanted to tell him something else, anything to save my proudest possession, but my mother didn't raise a liar.
"If you must know," I continued, "they are the finest cigars that God's green earth has to offer."
"Hand those over too, then," he said, his words echoing grimly in my ears.
I had withstood entirely enough from this uncouth highwayman. My watch and wallet were one thing, but my Romeo y Julietas were quite another! With speed that surprised even me, I attacked the hooligan with might and main. The young tough was dumb founded that a man of my age could move with such alacrity. I gave him a few sound thumps and the robber was on his way, with a bit more than he bargained for.
I picked up my Patek Philippe and wallet, returning them to their rightful places. The night air was bracing. Elena and I enjoyed the rest of our walk, thankful for our fortunate deliverance and the preservation of a good smoke.
I'd like to take a moment to respond to the comments made by Michael D. Washington of Rochester, N.Y., in his letter that appeared in "Out of the Humidor" in the Winter 1996/97 issue of Cigar Aficionado. As a fellow journalist, I ask that you print this letter in the game of objective and fair journalism. I realize that its less-than-favorable slant toward cigar smoking may ruffle some feathers among readers and, more importantly, advertisers, but I believe that Mr. Washington's insane viewpoint must be rebutted. Thank you for your consideration.
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