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Out of the Humidor

CA Readers
From the Print Edition:
Ron Perelman, Spring 95

(continued from page 17)

I eagerly pulled out of my vest pocket a lovely Arturo Fuente Lonsdale, which I ever so carefully stored away for safekeeping. As all prudent grooms do, I had carefully double-checked my list: ring, tuxedo, best man, limo...and of course, the celebratory cigar.

Prior to the wedding, I was delighted beyond description after receiving the news from our minister, Dave Eksdale, that Winnipeg's Crescent Fort Rouge United was a cigar-friendly house of worship. Perfect!

Later that evening at the reception, held in the comfortable setting of a local golf club, a good friend capped the day when he presented me with a package of Macanudo coronas. A group of us enjoyed our postdinner drinks and smokes under a beautiful sky and balmy temperatures.

It was truly a wonderful time to share good conversation and cigars with friends. There's nothing quite like a cigar-friendly wedding to ensure a lifetime of good memories.

Brian Smiley
Winnipeg, Manitoba

* * *

Dear Marvin,

It is always a pleasure to find unexpected treasures in life. Your excellent magazine is certainly one of them. I am an incarcerated 23-year-old in the Maryland prison system, yet this setback does not hinder my joy in being able to associate with other cigar aficionados. I started smoking cigars four years ago while attending college at the University of Maryland at College Park and had found other friends who enjoyed the exotic tastes of a fine smoke. Unfortunately, my incarceration stopped short my newfound indulgence.

I found solace, however, that we inmates are allowed to purchase cigars through catalogues at certain times during the year. My habit of smoking in my housing area earned me the nickname of "Castro," which I accepted as a compliment, considering the luxury he has [had] of indulging in a Cohiba. While I felt I was a dedicated Arturo Fuente and Te-Amo man, I certainly did not pass up the opportunity of asking my brother to consider bringing me a Cohiba or two back from Amsterdam (which he visited as part of a college class assignment). To my utter surprise, not only did he brave the misguided custom officials in smuggling a box of five Cohiba Especiales for me, but he also acquired a box of 25 Montecristo No. 5s (all Cuban).

While I acknowledge that prison is a place of penitence, some things are simply necessary to encourage a fellow not to give up on the many benefits and treasures of life. On those dreary nights of loneliness, I need only open my latest issue of Cigar Aficionado and light up one of my tobacco pals to bask in the fellowship of the discriminating smoker.


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