Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
cigar case, Summer 93
(continued from page 13)
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My husband was delighted when he found the premier issue of your marvelous magazine. Out of curiosity I picked it up and read through it. I'm not a regular smoker, but I've often heard men rhapsodize about cigars. I wanted to know what the real allure was. The article that most caught my attention was David Shaw's startling story on the abuses he's suffered as a cigar smoker ["Where Can I Smoke in Peace", Vol. 1, No. 1]. I was outraged to learn so many people would so readily censure and even bodily attack a man for the simple act of smoking a cigar.
Up until very recently I was one of those women who prefers her husband to smoke outside. After reading Mr. Shaw's article I was so incensed that I felt like taking up cigar smoking as a weapon against the people who want to destroy individual freedom of choice.
An even better reason presented itself in the form of a major step forward in my career. I told my husband I wanted to celebrate with brandy and cigars. He took me to our local tobacconist where we decided on two that suited us, and then I was initiated into the pleasures of a good cigar. As I write this I'm finishing off an H. Upmann Demitasse. Thank you so much for helping me discover a new pleasure and a pleasant act of political defiance.
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For as long as I can remember while growing up, I was always surrounded by relatives who smoked cigars. It was a tradition in my family that, after dinner, there was a mass exodus to the patio of our backyard of my dad, grandfather, great uncle and me.
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