Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
Wayne Gretzky, Mar/Apr 97
(continued from page 5)
At the next mess dinner I arrived completely equipped and at the end of the dinner enjoyed a very good cigar. What I found particularly interesting was the amount of attention I suddenly received from others seated around me as I went through the process of clipping and lighting my cigar (an El Rey del Mundo lonsdale). By the end of the evening, I had interested two or three of my fellow officers to try cigar smoking themselves.
What we have all realized more than anything is that a cigar is completely at home in the officer's mess, as it complements the entire experience. It also provides yet another opportunity for the regiment's officers to sit together, enjoy each other's company and relate their adventures. Cigars have been a part of a soldier's kit for centuries and will continue to be so for many more. I am glad that I have taken up the hobby in moderation, and plan to enjoy cigars for many years to come. Your magazine is an excellent companion to a returning passion among people, and I salute your efforts.
Capt. Andrew B. Godefroy
I live in Japan and have been here for six years. It's a wonderful place to live and can be very exciting at times. But several weeks ago I was in a motorcycle accident in Tokyo. A car did a U-turn in front of me and I was unable to avoid him. I bounced off his rear end and went sliding for about 15 feet. I was properly attired for riding but ended up damaging my knee pretty badly, and my wonderful VFR750 was destroyed. I'm not quite sure which upset me more: my bike destroyed or me bleeding all over the pavement. I was rushed to a hospital, but this is a bad thing in Japan. Japanese hospitals don't really have a good reputation for providing the proper care, and as I can only speak Japanese at a basic level, it was a real problem.
I got to the hospital and was sent to surgery immediately. I was given local anesthesia, so I was awake during the operation. I can't begin to explain what was going through my head, laying there for over four hours as doctors and nurses were working on me, and me not being able to talk to them. It turned out that my kneecap was broken into two pieces and the surgeon put it back together with pins (it will be great fun walking through airport metal detectors). It could have been much worse than what it turned out to be. I felt I was lucky to be alive.
The following week in the hospital, my best friend, Dave, showed up with a couple of cigars (he lives in Tokyo as well). He wheeled me from the hospital to a nearby bench where we enjoyed a quiet moment smoking. The following week I was able to go home to my wife and children. Dave came over with his wife and we had a wonderful dinner and I decided that I wanted to celebrate the fact that I was alive.
Two years ago, Dave and I went to the "Dinner of the Century" party that you held in Paris. That in itself was an occasion to remember. I had saved the Cohiba A that was handed out there for a special occasion. It has been sitting in my humidor in perfect condition since then. I figured that this was the right time to enjoy the A. It was wonderful to be there, with my kids running around me, smoking the Cohiba A with my best friend, drinking Scotch until about 2 a.m., discussing the wonders of life.
Thanks for the cigar, Marvin.
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