Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
Danny DeVito, Winter 96
(continued from page 2)
In fact, I think that your statement about the perfect relationship between cigars and golf can go even deeper. Many rounds of golf I remember distinctly by both the event and the cigar I enjoyed on the course: Pinehurst Number 2 and a Cohiba Esplendido; Royal Dornoch and a Montecristo No. 2; the Ocean Course and an Avo Pyramide; Troon North and a Partagas 150 Robusto; at my home club (Lake Hickory Country Club) with some cigar smoking buddies and an Opus X; the Old Course at St. Andrews and a Punch Punch; or Muirfield and a Romeo y Julieta Corona. Indeed, the smoke is as much part of the memory as the round, or the company. I can still smell the grass, azaleas and the La Flor de Cano that I smoked at Augusta National during the Masters last spring--and not one person among the crowd even looked at me sideways.
When I think of all the other times and places that a cigar would have added to a memory, it makes me sad that cigar smoking is looked down upon by so many. And how glad I am that having a good wine or other drink isn't frowned on in the same way (yet). Here's hoping things will change for the better.
Frank A. "Sandy" Porter
Hickory, North Carolina
I have a great cigar smoking story from New York City. I was in New York for a business trip. After having dinner with my colleagues and my boss, Julio, at a Cuban restaurant near our hotel, I felt like topping the evening with a Cuban tradition--a fine cigar. Of course, being in a New York restaurant I couldn't smoke there, so I walked the few blocks to the front of the Marriott Marquis in Times Square to smoke my cigar. I was leaning against the hotel, smoking a smooth Belinda double corona while watching a crowd around some street performers. I was waiting to see some pickpocketing. I enjoy the sport of people-watching on a nice summer night. Talk about a prime spot for watching strange and interesting people pass by! With all there is to see in Times Square, people still stared at me because I was smoking my cigar.
Well, as I'm puffing away, a huge police motorcade comes up 45th Street. The motorcycle cops stop the traffic on Broadway and people start rushing to the intersection. I figure, Who could it be? The president? Been there, done that! I work in D.C.; I ain't moving to see him again--I'm relaxed now. Then I re-member seeing on the news that Bubba Clinton is still in D.C. OK, maybe the mayor, Rudy Guiliani. I can walk to the corner to see a big-shot pisan.
I stand down the street a little, away from the crowd. Finally, the procession gets to Times Square and I see a big van with the Coca-Cola symbol, and then I see the word: Olympic. Holy Sh!!! It's the Olympic torch relay!! The van goes by and then I see an old lady walking with the torch. People start cheering, and she is waving and smiling. It was fantastic! I felt a wave of enthusiasm and began to start clapping furiously. The moment made me long for an opportunity to cheer the U.S.A. Olympic team in person. Wow! It must be unreal to feel that at the Games.
I thought to myself, "See, great things happen when one smokes a cigar." If it wasn't for my desire to finish off a long day with a relaxing cigar, I would not have been at that corner to see such a wonderful symbol. Also, I have to thank the strict no smoking laws in New York or I would have been inside somewhere with my Belinda.
Falls Church, Virginia
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