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Out of the Humidor

CA Readers
From the Print Edition:
Tom Selleck, Winter 95/96

(continued from page 9)

An extremely exhausting drive from San Diego to Los Angeles Airport (to pick up my husband) and then returning the same day can take its toll on a person, so upon our return home we dined out at our favorite café, then headed home to relax for the evening. My husband's first step was to slip into something comfortable, pour a glass of Port, head for the humidor and recline on the patio with the lights low, listening to classical music by Ravel.

I, too, began to unwind by having a glass of wine and reading the latest edition of Cigar Aficionado, featuring one of my favorite actors--Jack Nicholson! But to add to the mellowness of the evening I had my very first Macanudo. I was pleasantly surprised at the mild, sweet flavor and even more surprised at how long the flavor lasts. It was truly not what I expected, and I enjoyed the total experience. As an ex-cigarette smoker of some 15-plus years, my most difficult task was remembering not to inhale.

It was truly an eventful evening: to be accompanied by a wonderful and loving husband, a good wine, a flavorful cigar, a celebrated magazine and Jack--the perfect finale to the day.

Brenda D. Lefebvre
Rancho Santa Fe, California

* * *

Dear Marvin,

I was sitting outside on the porch earlier today, reading the Autumn 1995 Cigar Aficionado as I lit an H. Upmann cigar, one of my favorites. As I lit the cigar, my dog, Shu Shu, a Samoyed, came running over and sat next to me, his nose in the air as if he was looking at an airplane flying overhead. That was the first time he ever did such a thing. It took me a while to understand that he was sniffing and enjoying the smoke of my fantastic cigar. Every time I stopped puffing on it, Shu Shu looked at me and cried as if I took something away from him. My dog does not like any food off the table, doesn't like beer or any other alcohol, but surprisingly enjoys my cigar as much as I do.

I used to live in Austria, and I remember my dad bringing home a box of Montecristo No. 3s every Friday. I always waited for him to come home before leaving to go out, so I could take one of his cigars. I remember one time playing cards with some Italians in Kitzbuehl, a ski resort in Austria. The stakes got high during one hand, and one of the players wanted to call my $100 bet, but he didn't have the money. I told him he could use his box of Romeo y Julietas as collateral; he accepted and lost the hand. The next day I was smoking a Romeo y Julieta on the ski lift. Some of my best memories have something to do with cigars!

Oron Benary
Dublin, Ohio

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