Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
Fidel Castro, Summer 94
(continued from page 10)
I was a raw, rude and tasteless 18-year-old college freshman in 1970 at Tulane University. I began my cigar career inhaling raw, rude and tasteless "Dino" cigars at Tulane football games with my fellow frat brothers. We intelligently chose "Dinos" because one fellow brother was nicknamed "Dino."
I was rehabilitated and saved on a fateful weekend jaunt in Houston with roommate Tim Heffron and Bill "Dino" Pappas. At Heffron's home, his old man graciously gifted us with our first handmade imports--Dominican H. Upmanns.
At the conclusion of dinner at Heffron's on the first evening, the men lit up in the dining room, and surprisingly, the women (Mrs. Heffron and her daughter) enjoyed the air. The room was enveloped with a thick haze, but the feeling of friendship and warmth was overwhelming.
My father recognized and respected my new love, and he purchased for me my first box of cigars--Macanudos. They remain my loyal choice of smoke today.
My mother and I agree on little about life, but even she always appreciated and enjoyed the elegant Macanudo aromas that wafted about the house.
My wife's imposition of martial law in our home prohibits the smoking of cigars indoors. My wife, Cynthia, claims an allergy to cigar smoke. My three-year-old, Joshua, says all cigars are "stinky," although he collects the labels as trophies of slain cigars. My one-year-old, Caitlin, has not cultivated a negative opinion...yet. I remain an outlaw in my castle, smoking only outdoors when the weather is kind.
Ironically, as a generous gesture of peace and love, a holiday gift from my wife was The Ultimate Cigar Book, signed and inscribed by author Richard Carleton Hacker at my wife's request.
I am allowed to read the book indoors.
Jonathan H. Kaufman, Esq
Port Washington, New York
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