Cigar-a-Phobia

When you’re a cigar smoker, word gets around.  Sometimes it’s subtle- a cutter left on your desk or a catalog on your filing cabinet.  Sometimes it’s more overt, like 5 framed photographs/pieces of art hanging on your wall (guilty).  But whatever it is that advertises your avocation, people will eventually talk to you.

 

You probably have a boss, or client, or co-worker who has remarked on your passion before.  So you do what comes naturally and what we’ve covered ad-nauseum in this blog- you invite them along.  But something curious happens… Something we’re not used to.  They say no.

 

People don’t smoke cigars for as many reasons as they do, but the excuses that they provide are almost always one of four main points.  Let’s examine them, shall we?

 

1.  I don’t smoke.  The most prevalent excuse in the book, which is also the most true, which is also the lease relevant.  When someone says they don’t smoke, it’s a defensive move as well as a counter-strike.  It’s a statement of their pure, clean lifestyle and healthy habits, and simultaneously a condemnation of yours.  I typically say that there’s a first time for everything, or I ask them why not.  The reason usually is that they haven’t had an opportunity.  What better time to try something new than under the supervision of a professional?!   
2.  I used to smoke cigarettes.  This person is subtly offering you a mea culpa.  The reason they won’t join you is because they fear themselves, and are worried that their thin veneer of civility and normalcy will wash away after only one puff, like Dr. Jekyll drinking the elixir.  They fear themselves as smokers, and do everything they can to avoid those things that may make them even think of reverting back to their old ways.  This person I usually leave alone- life is hard enough when you can’t trust yourself.  Or, as a good friend of mine once said, “Whenever you find yourself lacking in self-control, you should make up a silly rule so you don’t ever have to exercise any will-power.”  Ouch
3. I don’t want my clothes to smell.  Well guess what Snuggles, that’s what washing machines are for.  I also suggest you stop walking, running, climbing stairs, speaking in public, walking your dog, playing with your kids, dancing, eating Indian food, and living in Southern California.  All those things make your clothes smell just as bad.
4. I don’t have time.  Another way to say that you’re not important enough for them to earn a place in their social calendar.  Move on.

The last point that has become prevalent in the last year or two is that they can’t afford it.  As Blanche DuBois said, “You can always depend on the kindness of strangers.”  I believe that if you invite someone with whom you don’t have history with out for a cigar, you should be prepared to absorb the financial consequences.  That doesn’t mean you have to buy them a VSG or a Graycliff- an Oliva, CAO or Rocky Patel will serve just fine.

 

So what’s a social smoker to do?  Retreat to our lounges and porches to smoke in solitude?  Stop offering?  Quit smoking cigars?  Madness.  I say to you that we should redouble our proselytizing efforts!  Small businesses and social graces are withering on the vine, and what better way to revive the two simultaneously than to patronize your local lounge to have a smoke and make some new friends!  And if you manage to drag your ex-non-smoker friend with you, chances are that they’ll have a great time, and will want to go again.  And you’ll have done them a favor.

Mad Skillz, Yo!

Here at what economists are calling the end of the Great Recession, many of us have been forced to re-think who we are and what we do.  And this applies not only to those who are out there pounding the pavement looking for work, but to those of us who still have a job to go to everyday.  And the question that one could easily ask is why me?  Why do I still have a job while friends and neighbors don’t?

 

The answer often comes down to skill.  We’re skilled in our particular field, or have a unique skill set that allows us to do something better than other people who are unskilled.  But what does all this talk of skill mean?  I can bounce a golf ball on a lob wedge well over 15-times, but is this really a skill?  Or, because I can’t put someone in an arm-bar or triangle-choke while they’re trying to punch me in the face- does that mean I’m unskilled?

 

All too often, it’s not a case of what we can or cannot do, but a question of where in the world we are.  There’s a moment in the TV show Family Guy where Peter and his two Portuguese crewmen pull a drowning man from the ocean, and Peter gives the man the Doritos he had previously given to his crew.  One exclaims in shock, in Portuguese, “Hey!  He’s giving that guy our Doritos!”  The other mournfully replies, in Portuguese, “In Portugal, I was a cardiologist.”

 

The Statue of Liberty’s engraving doesn’t say “Give me your unskilled, your lazy, your unmotivated.”  Its’ address speaks to the position of a person in the social hierarchy of the world, not their abilities.  And all too often, those skills that people come here with are either unrecognized or exploited.

 

At a French restaurant, Anthony Bourdain once shoved a microphone in a cooks’ face and demanded to know what part of France he was from.  The man replied that his name was Jose, and that he was from Chihuahua.  The same was true for all the cooks- they were all from Central or South America.  But damn could they make French food.

 

It’s the same thing with cigars- I can talk with someone all day about construction, blend, agricultural influences and tasting notes.  But if you gave me the tobacco to roll or asked me to blend a cigar, I guarantee it would be neither good nor pretty.

 

Immigrant skills are what make our country great, and demand us to take a hard look at ourselves.  I can hear the critics now- “Sure a Mexican can cook Steak Au Poivre better than me- but it’s the American flag on the moon!  USA!”  I ask you- what do you know about space exploration?  Too high a target?  Ok, explain to me how the automatic transmission in your car knows when and how to shift.  Still too technical?  Tell me how, in detail, your lymphatic system helps keep you healthy.

 

My point is that skill is a relative thing.  You can be skilled at life insurance, printing, carpentry, cooking or cigar production.  But what makes our civilization great is our ability to combine these talents- to knit them together into a (semi)functional society.  And thank goodness there are people out there, everywhere, who know what I don’t.  Because worst case scenario, if I crash land on a planet that has no technology, about the only thing I could teach them how to do would be to make sandwiches.  Provided they already knew how to bake bread.

When Worlds Collide

Human beings, in general, are creatures of habit.  Ever since we came down from the trees (you can debate this below, if you choose) and found a nice cave that wasn’t saber-toothed tiger infested, we’ve craved consistence and predictability.  Many of our myths and points of cultural consciousness reflect the desire to know what’s around the corner, and to make it fit into the milieu of our past experiences.

 

Unfortunately- or fortunately depending on your sentiments- the world is a big place, full of swift and unpredictable changes.  As Zaphod Beeblebrox discovered, the only way to keep your sanity in such a big place is to have absolutely no sense of perspective.  Sometimes, when you’re lucky, the world throws you a spitball.

 

This week in Southern California we’ve experienced one such “Clash of the Titans”.  In the red corner, we have the 12.8 million residents of Los Angeles and Orange County.  And in the blue corner, we have a force of nature as old as the earth itself.  Rain.

 

Rain paralyzes SoCal.  The moment your average Californian has to turn on their wipers, they also turn off their brain.  Allow me to paint a picture for those of you fortunate enough to have never experienced this rare phenomenon.  The lightest mist- anything more than a fog- results in people walking from their car to their office with an umbrella in hand.  Some actually buy rain coats and galoshes.

 

But that’s just the start- any precipitation more than a gentle drizzle turns the SouthLand into a cross between Mad Max and WaterWorld.  Because it rarely rains, the cities are not built to cope with it.  Drainage ditches flood, parking lots turn into lakes, and hills become waterfalls.  There’s simply nowhere for the water to go!  And on top of that, you have some people who think that they must now drive 45mph on the freeway competing for space with people in lifted F-150’s with mud tires who have decided that 85mph is the right speed for them.  It’s terrifying.

 

So what does this all have to do with cigars?  I’ll admit the rain part doesn’t really tie in.  But the predictability part?  Huge.  It’s why I have friends who will only smoke the Ashton VSG, insisting that it’s the most consistent cigar they’ve ever found.  It’s good, but why won’t they try something new?  Maybe they’re scared they won’t like it.  Others will only smoke a certain size, or have an unreasonably strong preference for tobacco from a certain country.

 

I’ve come to hold a certain perspective on the endeavors of those around me.  If they’ve produced something that they feel is worthy to compete for dollars in the open market, they must be proud of it.  This is why when I get a CD I listen to the whole thing, start to finish.  The artist liked every song enough to put it on there.  It’s the same reason I smoke every cigar I can.  The world can be a big, scary, unpredictable place on the whole.  Sure, your small corner is fairly controlled, and you generally have an idea of what happens next.  But maybe sometimes you shouldn’t.

 

By the way, The Cigar Guys’s shameless plug.  We’re hosting our The Cigar Guys 2010 Kick Off Herf on Friday, January 29^nd at OC Cigars in Costa Mesa (2470 Newport Blvd., Costa Mesa, CA).  Starting around 6:30, for $35 you’ll receive a “Special” cigar, as well as food and entry into our raffle drawing.  It’s going to be a great time, and we hope to see you there! To register for the event, https://the-cigar-guys.ticketleap.com/the-cigar-guys-2010-kickoff-herf-01-22-2010-18-30

DUE TO PENDING STORMS, DATE CHANGED TO THE CIGAR GUYS 2010 KICK OFF HERF!

DUE TO PENDING THUNDERSTORMS THIS WEEK, WE HAVE CHANGED THE DATE TO THE CIGAR GUYS 2010 KICK OFF HERF TO Friday, January 29, 2010!

Here is the information for the Herf!

The Cigar Guys 2010 Kick-off Herf!

Jan 29th from 6:30 to 10:30 pm

The Cigar Guys are starting off the year right with our first Herf (Smoke Out) of the Year. 

We’re holding it at Orange County Cigar Lounge in Costa Mesa, CA.  If you’ve never been, now is the perfect reason to check out this HOT Lounge! 

You’ll receive APPETIZERS,AN ISLAND CIGAR (send me an email if you don’t know what THAT means by now) and a chance to WIN some GREAT prizes.  Make some new friends and smoke a great stick!

 Register today!

Cost: $35

Please change your RSVP if you need to!

Thanks

The Cigar Guys

Mixing Business and Pleasure

Business today is tricky.  Here in 2010 there are a lot of variables that can throw off your deal- some large, some small, and some new.  For example, you could be ready to ink a deal to sell a new crane to someone, only to have the developer pull out of the project because he couldn’t get financing.  Your fault?  Not at all.  It’s the world we now live in.  If you’re in sales, there’s one answer as to what to do after your sale blows up.  Find another one. 

  

So what do you do to find your next deal?  There are hundreds of options, ranging from the old chestnut of Cold Calling, to networking or social events (like the one we’re throwing on January 22^nd!)  to industry trade shows.  I guess the thought here is that no matter what you do, there are an unlimited number of people who need it- you just have to find them, one by one.  But wait- you’re not the only person who does what you do, are you?  If so, you won’t be for long.  If not, why are you different?  Why would your clients ever want to give their money to you in exchange for your service? 

  

One of the ways I choose to differentiate myself from the pack is by wearing colorful/ugly/distinctive shirts, but more on that another time.  Use your avocation to the benefit of your vocation!  When was the last time that a sales call was going poorly, and you said; “One last thought- you’re not a cigar smoker, are you?”  If they say no, you had nothing to lose.  If they say yes, it’s an instant change in rapport!  Change the subject- talk about what they smoke and where and who with.  And, of course, offer to have a cigar with them.  Sometimes it works! 

  

Cigar smoking is even better at networking and non-cigar social events.  I remember one time I went to a technology industry mixer.  For those who don’t know me, I don’t know a Lunar Wayneshaft from a Reciprocating Dinglearm from a Turbo Encabulator.  So, on my name tag I wrote my name, and underneath it I wrote “Cigar Smoker”.  I got stopped by a ton of people that night wanting to talk to me, including a guy who had cigars in his pocket!  Next time you’re talking to a stranger, try your hand at profiling.  If they fit your mental image of a cigar smoker, ask them!  You’ll be surprised at how far you get. 

  

Speaking of events, here’s The Cigar Guys’s shameless plug.  We’re hosting our first public event of the year on Friday, January 22^nd at OC Cigars in Costa Mesa.  Starting around 6:00, for $35 you’ll receive a “Special” cigar, as well as food and entry into our raffle drawing.  It’s going to be a great time, and we hope to see you there!

Is Enough Enough?

As people make their resolutions for the coming year, it provides a built-in opportunity to look back at yourself as you were, and to decide who you want to be as you go forward.  The usual resolutions center around health, wealth and family, but they almost always aim towards the same general goal.  More.

More is what made this country great.  More is what settled our continent, and what won us our freedom.  More is what pushed our boundaries West.  More is what built the most dominant military-industrial complex in modern history, and More is what ultimately lead to it’s recent difficulties.  But it’s not our fault- human beings are geared to pursue More.

Tony and I made our 2010 business plan recently, which caused me to reflect on this phenomenon.  It aimed, predictably, at More.  More exposure, More events, More corporate clients and More cigars.  And it’s all good.  But could Less be More?  Or More Less?

Tony and I already each run our own businesses independent of The Cigar Guys, and we both write for another blog besides this one.  And we both enjoy everything that we do.  We’ve looked at opportunities to expand business and passed on them, and we’ve looked at opportunities only to try and fail.  You have to stick to what you’re good at, but how do you find out what that is?  By trying.

Less being More being Less is kind of how my cigar smoking career has gone so far.  I smoked my first cigar 11 years ago, and it was good.  In college I worked up to one or two a week, and I was a guy who smoked cigars.  When I moved to LA and began hanging out at the local cigar shops, I held on to this belief- that I was a guy who smoked cigars.  After tallying up and realizing that I was smoking an average of two cigars a day, I realized that I had become a Cigar Smoker.

The difference between a person who smokes cigars and a Cigar Smoker is subtle, but genuine.  A Cigar Smoker makes a point of searching out cigars that they enjoy, and sharing those experiences with friends.  A person who smokes cigars is the same, but you can always pick them out of the crowd.  They just seem… somehow… less comfortable in their own skin.  It’s less of a knowledge or experience thing than it is frame-of-mind.  More isn’t necessarily less, but less certainly isn’t more.

It’s like the time years ago that I went to a martini bar with friends- they ordered chocolate martinis, lemon drops, cosmopolitans, etc.  The waitress turned to me and I replied that I’d like a dry martini.  “What flavor of vodka would you like, sir?”  “Gin-flavored.”

So, where’s the line?  When will you be satiated- satisfied with your lot, your life.  The only answer is that you’ll be satisfied when you’re done.  Gordon Gekko said about Corporate M&A work that it’s a zero-sum gain.  Someone wins and someone loses.  But then again, maybe he doesn’t need a third boat to water-ski behind.  Maybe Bud was right.  More or less.

The Cigar Guys are starting their Cigar Shop Reviews again!  Is there a shop you’d like us to visit?  That everyone in the world deserves to know about?  Write to us at info@thecigarguys.net and tell us where we should go next!

Join The Cigar Guys for their 2010 Kickoff Herf at Orange County Cigar Lounge Jan. 22, 2010!

The Cigar Guys are starting off the year right with our first Herf (Smoke Out) of the Year.

We’re holding it at Orange County Cigar Lounge in Costa Mesa, CA. (2470 Newport Blvd., Costa Mesa, CA)

 If you’ve never been, now is the perfect reason to check out this HOT Lounge!

 You’ll receive APPETIZERS, AN ISLAND CIGAR (send me an email if you don’t know what THAT means by now) and a chance to WIN some GREAT prizes.

Make some new friends and smoke a great stick!

BYOB.

Cost: $35

Purchase your ticket today at: https://the-cigar-guys.ticketleap.com/the-cigar-guys-2010-kickoff-herf-01-22-2010-18-30

You “Aught” To Know

New Years is a strange time of the year.  We then look back and wax poetic about how the previous year wasn’t quite what we expected, and that the next year is going to be when we finally join the gym, make millions of dollars and find the cure for cancer and promote world peace.  Never mind that this was the year that all the opposites happened.  Optimism is rarely in bad form, but you could almost make the case that the optimists were shouted down in Aught-Nine.

 

Lots of fun and interesting things happened in the cigar world this year.  Apart from lacking the patience, discipline or foresight to prepare an exhaustive list, I’ll just tick down a few of the big ones that we’ve seen locally.

 

Several cigar manufacturers seemed to make the leap into the primetime this year.  It’s one thing for the dedicated smoker to talk about Illusione and Tatuaje, but when the casual smokers pick it up you know they’ve turned the corner.  Same thing with Don Pepin, who has been steadily gaining ground and notoriety.  Also, Rocky Patel seems to have made the jump from medium-size company to force-to-be-reckoned-with.  Good work, fellas, and keep it up.

 

Ring gauges are a constantly changing thing, moving back and forth with the whims of the public.  The Nub seems to have had its’ run as the hot, new thing.  And with Te Amo producing an (arguably) better cigar using the same concept, it looks to me as if the fad has run its’ course.  Unfortunately on the other side of things, it would appear that the lancero resurgence has been cut short.  You win some, you lose some.

 

And lastly, it’s been a year of tremendous growth for The Cigar Guys.  We’ve watched our event planning business double, our blog go from 1,000 hits to 10,000, and our quote requests reach an average of 3 per week.  We expect big things from ourselves in 2010, and expect you to aim high, as well.  This is going to be the year that separates the Doers from the Talkers, the Men from the Boys, the Maduros from the Candelas.

 

As a handy guide to success, here’s a list of some of my New Year’s Resolutions (Credit to S.L.J).

 

P.S. This works better if you imagine a sweet 70’s bass groove while you read it.  Think “Papa was a Rolling Stone.”

At the top of my list: “Continue to kick ass.”

 

And then I hope to “Be as bad as I know I can be.”

 

Also, to “Really put it out there”, and by “it” I mean Big Al’s mojo.

 

In addition, I plan to “Give it as good as I get it.”

 

“Be all that and more.”

 

And, “Lose my shyness”, vis a vis the rocket in my pocket.

 

Plus, I plan to “Work my voodoo on the lady fans.”

 

“Take a thorn out of some cat’s paw.”

 

And “Build a shrine to my own bad ass.”

 

Then, it’s time to “Give the demons what for.”

 

“Spare the rod and spoil the face.”

 

And “Continue to kick ass.”

 

After which, I’ll “Show the bad men what it’s all about.”

 

“Release a dove from a ghetto rooftop.”

 

And “Cradle a newborn baby in the ruins of a church.”

 

Finally, this year, I will “Stick it to all the suckas.”

 

And I’m gonna “Show the man that I mean business.”

 

And I’m gonna “Take a computer class.”

 

 

Alright everybody, it’s showtime.  And Here… We… Go!

A Family Affair

The old saying goes that you can pick your friends, you can pick your enemies, but you can’t pick your family.  Even if it’s a terrible, played-out cliché, it’s an undeniably truth.  Unless you were to go back in time and kill your grandfather, or some other ridiculous sci-fi plot line.  No, the family unit can be one of the best- or worst- things in your life.  And the holiday season, which we are smack in the middle of (2 down, 2 to go), forces most of us to go back to the family compound and break bread among people with whom we share nothing but geno and phenotypes.  And sometimes not even the latter.

 

So what’s a black sheep to do?  The old answer was to drink.  Heavily.  And while many people still adhere to that old chestnut, there are more socially acceptable, or at least useful, ways to pass the time.  I, for example, use holiday gatherings as fodder for stories for years to come.  Some of my greatest catch-phrases (used to confuse friends and infuriate family) have come from Thanksgiving dinners long ago.  Like I do every week, I have a few thoughts you may want to keep in mind when staring down a slice of fruitcake.

 

They say in business to never discuss religion or politics, since there’s very little chance of the conversation going well.  But around family, I say to have at it!  Tell your Republican Uncle that, all things considered, Obama is doing a pretty good job.  Or, say that this country needs to embrace its’ growing Muslim population and work harder to integrate it.  Then sit back and listen!  The key here is to let him finish, keep your voice calm and level, and say with an air of confusion “Really?”  By this point your Liberal Aunt should have joined in, and you can watch the show!

 

Conversely, if things are a little too boisterous and you’d like to throw a damp towel over the proceedings, as everyone is served or generally relaxing, say loudly “Is everyone REEEEEEEEE-ASONABLY happy?”  My uncle would do this every chance he got- his baritone (he sang in a choir) would be cut with a pubescent cracking of his voice at the “re”, followed by a compensatory, floorboard-rumbling bass “eeeeeeeee”.  Everyone would stop and stare at him, as if he just told everyone that he was really a robot in disguise.

 

I, as a general rule, am a pretty happy guy.  I try not to let things get to me, and generally make my own fun.  I’ve had some great get-togethers, and some awful ones.  But that’s just life.  If you have to, you can always retreat to the great outdoors and have a cigar.  And who knows- maybe a stogie is just what you needed to bond with your brother-in-law who hates your music, your sports team and your joie-de-vivre.  People bond over cigars, and maybe if nothing else works, you should try it.

 

I still remember the first time I saw a cigar at a family gathering.  My mountain-man uncle, sporting a G. Gordon Liddy moustache, stood on our front deck with a cigar and a glass of whiskey.  At 15, I had always thought he was cool (mostly because I didn’t really know him.)  He gave me a cursory “Hey kid”, and asked me if I was looking forward to my driving test next year.  He then took a 90-degree turn, and asked me if I’d been drunk yet.  I hadn’t.  He then said to me “Well, I guess you’re going to have to learn how to drink and drive at the same time… Someday you’ll be out and you’ll be drunk, and you’re gong to have to get home.”  Amazing what stick with you through the years.  This conveniently leads me to perhaps the most fun thing you can do at a family gathering.  Pick a little kid, and say or do something that will scar him for life.  I’m not saying molest him- just a statement or action that guarantees that he won’t forget that moment in time.  I believe that living on in memory is the closest thing we can achieve to immortality, and I intend to live for a long, long time.

Against All Odds

I’ve read a few interesting books lately, but the one that comes to mind this morning is “The Black Swan”.  Its’ premise is that it’s impossible to predict the future by analyzing the past, and that history and progress aren’t made incrementally, but in massive, unexpected leaps.  For example, consider the turkey.  It hatches, and learns over the course of years that people are friendly, feed it, and clean its’ cage.  The turkey’s level of comfort rises a little each day, so that if you were to plot it on a graph, it would be a steadily rising straight line.  Then, the day that the turkey’s comfort level with people is the highest (it’s higher every day, so every day is the highest), it happens to be November 24^th.  The turkey had no way of knowing that it was about to get the Queen of Hearts treatment.

 

What does this mean?  It means that you should always expect the unexpected.  As silly as that cliché is, it’s the truth.  You can’t know what’s about to happen, and it seems like there’s been a lot of that going around lately.  Hankering for a burger, I went to a place that advertised on those door-hanger things that sometimes populate the neighborhood.  I expected nothing.  I got one of the better burgers I’ve had in recent memory.  Juicy, tender patties, an expansive condiment list that you ordered off of, and fries bathed in Old Bay seasoning.  Delightful.

 

We have to step outside our comfort zones and open ourselves up to everything that this bizarre world has to offer, and be ready for anything to happen at any given time.  Why is everyone so shocked to learn that Tiger Woods was getting around?  Because no one thought it could happen.  Of course it could.  And it did.  Other things that could happen?  Paris Hilton could join a Convent.  A professional athlete could run a dog-fighting ring.  Kimbo Slice could become homosexual.  And a black man could be elected to the Office of The President of The United States.  Just because it hasn’t happened, doesn’t mean that it won’t.

 

On the restaurant note, the Girlfriend and I found what I thought was an Italian restaurant in Costa Mesa in the Zagat guide.  Yes, we’re snobs.  We drive there, and learn it’s in South Coast Plaza mall.  My expectation sank from Italian to I-talian.  We asked the waiter to surprise us with a pizza and a pasta, and, in a karmic reward of our trust, got what we considered as the best Italian food in Orange County.  Thin, crisp, simple pizza, delicious spinach ravioli in the best pasta sauce I’ve ever eaten, with a dark chocolate and hazelnut torte for dessert.  We’re going back.  Often.

 

We’re taught as young people to expect certain outcomes based on certain information.  Men in black suits are from the Government, men in blue suits are professionals, and men in shiny suits are either Mafia or pimps.  It’s this reason that makes your style one of the hardest things to change about yourself.  People tend to look the part that they play- you generally don’t see rugby players wearing pocket protectors, and mathletes don’t wear Ed Hardy.  But when you try something new, you might like it.

 

The Girlfriend also recently suggested that I get a pair of designer jeans.  Not a fan of the concept, I agreed to try on a few.  I picked out a pair of True Religions that looked absolutely ridiculous, for yucks.  Bright white stitching, giant horseshoes on the back pockets, and stripes highlighting the… family jewel area.  I knew I’d hate them.  But lo and behold, they fit well and look better on than they did on the rack.  I liked them, and decided to swallow my pride, and rock the Orange County D-Bag look from time to time.  The jeans go well with my obnoxious designer shirts- another thing I didn’t think I’d ever like.

 

I guess the thought this week is that you have to be ready, at all times, for all possibilities.  The people who capitalize on sudden changes are the successful ones, no matter what their chosen pursuit is.  Stay on your toes, and get ready to roll with the punches, because I guarantee that 2010 is going to be the year that fortunes are made.  Or, as Monty Python once put it, NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!

Change is the Only Constant

I can remember the first cigar I smoked.  I was in Jerusalem, and several of my friends turned up to our rendezvous smoking cigars.  I, naturally, decided to join them and followed them to a tacky tobacco/t-shirt/tourist trap hole in the wall located off the main pedestrian shopping area.  The man assured me that they were Genuine Cuban Cigars, and I didn’t know any better, so I bought two.  I also bought a green shirt that says “Coca-Cola” in Hebrew script (why I didn’t buy a red one is a story for another day).  So, I stepped outside and began the long odyssey that leads to me sitting here in Newport Beach typing this blog.  I lit up.

 

I don’t remember if it was a “Montecristo” or a “Romeo y Julieta”, but that’s beside the point.  I enjoyed it, and decided at that moment, as a 19-year-old in the streets of the Holy City, that I was going to be a cigar smoker.  Once I got back stateside, my D.A.R.E training kicked in, and I amended that resolution to be that I would only smoke cigars when visiting states that I didn’t live in at the time- that way I wouldn’t smoke too often.

 

Once I turned 21, a friend of the family completed a promise that he had made to me when I was six years old that he would take me to Las Vegas.  We checked in, headed to the car to drive to the Hoover Dam, and he handed me an Ashton.  Surprising him, I cut and lit it.  I loved that cigar.  Later on in the trip he gave me an Onyx to smoke- how dark!  How strong!  For years these were my two favorite cigars- the best cigars I’d ever had.

 

I reflected on this last week while working a surprise birthday party.  The Ashton is too light for me, and I haven’t had an Onyx in I-Don’t-Know-How-Long.  I had lit up a Diamond Crown, and was absentmindedly enjoying it when I remembered that I hated that cigar.  But I didn’t.  It was…. Good.  My taste had changed.

 

Everyone goes through phases in life- whether it’s Grunge music, mullets, saying “bro”, or smoking a certain cigar.  I think back to what I used to smoke, and can see a clear progression from very large ring-gauge medium-bodied cigars, to the ligero lanceros that I’m fond of now.

 

I am an ardent believer that you have to try everything twice, and not back-to-back.  The first time I tried sea urchin I ran outside vomiting.  14 years later, it’s one of my favorite sushi dishes.  The Diamond Crown’s flavor used to be terrible, but now I can see myself smoking it again.  Perhaps this weekend…

 

I used to wear a rat-tail, holey jean-jacket and HyperColor t-shirts.  What sort of funny/embarrassing/unique things did you used to do?  What sort of cigars do you find yourself coming back to?  We’d love to hear your story!

Another Happy “The Cigar Guys” Customer!

“Thank you so much for making my husband’s 30th surprise birthday party extra special! Everyone enjoyed the cigar bar and really made our theme come to life! Looking forward to future events with the Cigar Guys!
Enjoy the photos below “ 

 

Patricia Soto, Charm Event Design

The Ashes of Black Friday by Alex Lukoff

Well, the holiday season is finally here.  Deck the halls, ’tis the season, don we now, etc. etc. etc.  And for we Curmudgeons, Grinch’s and Scrooges across the country, the nightmare is now officially upon us.

Don’t get me wrong- I like National Holidays, gorging myself on gigantic meals, and getting so drunk I can’t tell the difference between “Blessed be Mordechai” and “Cursed be Haman”.  I’ll revel and rejoice, but just don’t tell me to.

I think that there are a lot of people out there like me- people who suffer through bad songs that, through some nostalgia or repetition, are accepted as good.  In SoCal, it’s difficult to hear “White Christmas” when it’s 75 degrees.  Oh well.

But, there is something that I do like about the holidays.  Presents.  And not even just the receiving- I actually enjoy the giving.  Any schmo can give someone a gift card or a sweater, but a memorable gift is as much fun to give as to get.  Some of my more memorable gifts given have included an ant farm, a set of “Chef Tony’s Miracle Perfection Blade 2″ and a salt lick.  Each one was memorable for the recipient, and showed a certain amount of thought and foresight on my part. Which, I think, is more important than spending a chunk of change.

Part of the built-in beauty of being a cigar smoker is that it makes gift-getting pretty easy.  But dangerous.  I know I’m not alone in having to smile and act excited in receiving a box of Kahlua Cigars or a Zippo lighter, complete with gasoline.  (Tony’s friend once gave him a case of Black & Mild cigarillos, believing them to be good cigars.) But sometimes someone gets you something memorable.  A stocked humidor, a nice lighter, or even just a single cigar, handed out from a box- one per person in the shop.

Just remember that receiving well is as important as giving well.  So this year, keep it simple, and give from the heart.  If you mean it, it’ll be appreciated.

What’s the most memorable gift you’ve given or received? We’d like to hear your story!

Memories from Big Smoke 2009 (Part 2) by Alex Lukoff

Saturday at The Big Smoke 2009

 

Saturday morning broke with a crash, as I slowly tried to shake off the hangover caused by too many rum drinks the night before.  Totally worth it- it was only a 2-asprin hangover, but I took three to be safe.

 

What to do to kill a few hours in the morning in Vegas?  Start drinking again.  A $1 Michelob at Casino Royale was the last little bit of medicine I needed to be back on top of my game.  I went to wake Tony at about 10:30.

 

We started by making our way over to RhumBar where, the night before, I had lost my 3-finger cigar case.  I had a one-year-old Master Blend 3 and a Paul Vato cigar in it, both of which are now gone forever.  Lady Luck demands her occasional sacrifice, and while I spoke to the staff and security trying to find it, Tony won $300 at a slot machine.  Typical.

 

To assist in the waking-up process, we headed back to Casa Fuente for coffee and morning cigars.  A beautiful pot of French-press coffee, a cigar, some old friends and being recognized a few more times was a wonderful way to start the day.  That morning, I set a dangerous precedent.  A friend and I decided that it was about time we smoked something new, and so, purchased two Don Arturo Fuente Gran AniverXario cigars.  For $75 a piece.  I’ve smoked a lot of premium cigars in my time, but I can honestly say that this cigar was one of the best cigars I’ve ever had.  I would recommend it without hesitation- next time you’re there, treat yourself and splurge a little.

 

Feeling hungry, we headed upstairs to Sushi Roku in Caesar’s Forum, in the rotunda.  Raw fish in the middle of the desert- better living through technology!  After sitting down at the bar, the chefs began to slowly warm up to us.  Tony ordered the sushi combo, and I ordered a few a la carte items- raw scallop, freshwater eel, monkfish liver and sea urchin.  Yes, I’ve eaten sushi quite a bit!  Halfway through our meal, the chef we were speaking with carried out a live flounder, and it was hideously ugly.  We watched, mesmerized, as he put a tea towel over it’s head, and proceeded to break it’s spine with one huge chop of the knife.  She (he later removed the egg sacks) curled up almost into a tube before laying flat.  From there, he removed its’ fins and tail, while the gills moved sporadically.  Finally he began cutting the skin off of the fish, finally ending up with one massive, perfect, beautiful fillet.  He held it up for us to examine, and we could see shimmering- the electrical impulses of the muscles still firing.  The then held up the severed head and, with a flick of the point of the knife, cut open the heat sack, in which the heart continued to beat.  Best.  Show.  Ever.

 

After lunch Tony and I split up to go do some shopping.  Nothing exciting happened for a few hours.

 

Finally, it was time!  We headed over to the Big Smoke at the Venetian, and arrived just in time as the doors were opening.  You’ve probably heard that The Big Smoke wasn’t as well attended this year, and that there weren’t as many goodies.  Well, it’s true, but who cares?  Unlimited scotch and beer, 24 cigars, pictures with beautiful bikini clad women and Turtle Soup- sounds like a party to me!  While walking the show, reconnecting with old friends and networking, we were actually stopped several times by people telling us that they loved our work!  How cool is that!

 

The evening ended up back at RhumBar, where rum drinks were consumed, UFC was watched, waitresses were flirted with, and Jerry Springer was smoking a Tatuaje, hanging out with Pete Johnson.

 

Eventually, Sunday dawned, and we packed up, checked out, and headed for the airport.  For our last surprise, we stopped at the store in the airport before security that sold cigars.  As we’re looking, the woman who owns it suddenly says “I know you guys from somewhere…”  After seeing our card, it becomes evident that she’s a reader!  Small, small world!

 

After a $20 burger, fries and milkshake at the Airport Ruby’s (highway robbery!) we walked over to Brookstone where we proceeded to hog the massage chairs for about 30 minutes.  I swear I’ll buy one of those stupid things some day.  The head massager, however, I can do without.

 

The grand total?  I smoked 12 cigars in 2 days, got 10 hours of sleep for the whole weekend (pretty good, actually!), and I’m scared to actually total up the credit card receipts to see what I spent.

 

I realized on Tuesday, speaking with a friend who was heading back after doing some business after the event, that even if The Big Smoke were half its’ size and half as well attended, I’d still go.  For me, it’s not about the event itself, but rather being surrounded everywhere by likeminded people- to feel like part of a bigger group.  I’ve made new friends every year I’ve gone, and am anxious to continue the trend.  Go, if you can, in 2010, and we’ll see you there.

Memories from Big Smoke 2009! (Part 1) by Alex Lukoff

Friday

Tony and I look forward to the Big Smoke every year.  Held in Las Vegas and hosted by the good folks over at Cigar Aficionado, it’s the perfect opportunity to make friends, rub elbows with cigar celebrities, and generally smoke all day, every day.  Perfect, right?  Well, last year Tony couldn’t make it, so I had to represent.  This year, with the business firing on all 5-cylinders (I drive a Jetta), the blog getting a thousand hits a month, and almost 1200 Facebook friends, we knew it would be different than years past.  But we had no idea how different!

We flew in on Friday, leaving Long Beach, CA via Long Beach Airport on Jet Blue.  If you haven’t flown out of Long Beach you should for the following reason:  We arrived 5-minutes before boarding, and made it onto the flight with no incident.

Once we were on the ground and winding our way to the cab stand, Tony started Facebooking, and discovered that one of our FB Friends was at a cigar shop on Paradise Rd.  We walked in and Tony (being Tony) shouted, “Who’s Jeff?”  Jeff said, meekly, “I am”, at which point we introduced ourselves.  Watching his eyes widen was hilarious!  He said “I figured you guys were just royalty-free pictures!  I didn’t know you actually looked like that!”  We had beers and cigars for a while before we got a cab back to the hotel, and talked about how much fun that experience was.  Little did we know what was in store for us.

After checking in and putting on our “Whatcha Smokin’?” Cigar Guys shirts, we headed over to Casa Fuente in Caesar’s Forum.  50 weeks out of the year, it’s a relaxed place to have a drink, a smoke, and generally relax.  During the Big Smoke, it’s a zoo.  Every chair is filled, and people stand around chatting while they wait for a table.  We had sat for maybe 5-minutes when it began.  A cigar smoker from Missouri recognized us and sat down with the owner of his local shop.  We were soon joined by an LA lobbyist and a NY disc jockey.  And as soon as one would leave, another IT manager from Chicago or a cigar manufacturer from Las Vegas would stop to introduce themselves!  Carlito who?

After a couple of cigars, we headed off to the Venetian for dinner.  We had reservations at Bouchon, which is owned by Thomas Keller- widely acknowledged as the best chef in America.  As appetizers, Tony had Sweetbread Ravioli and I had a Grilled Octopus Salad with pink grapefruit and oranges.  Dinner was Lamb, medium for Tony, and I had Boef Bourguignon.  I kid you not, it was fantastic.  Like, last-meal-before-the-electric-chair good.  A lemon tart finished it off.  With an Arnold Palmer and a glass of wine, the whole meal was $130 for the two of us.  Pretty reasonable!

While at Casa Fuente, we had heard about a new cigar bar and club that had opened at the Mirage next door called RhumBar.  I headed over there with some friends I had met up with at the Venetian (somehow they had befriended a Catholic Priest… what happens in Vegas!) and Tony arrived shortly after.  This party was off the chain/hook/charts!  Inside is one long bar, with one long table running parallel, with stools along each.  A few TV’s, great selection of rum, and friendly bartenders.  Nothing unusual.  Outside was a different story- tons of large, comfortable chairs and couches arranged in groups, heaters and TV’s make this the best outdoor hangout spot in Vegas!  The waitresses were as friendly as the bartenders, the drink prices are good (get the Latin Manhattan!), and there was enough space for us to hang out with a dozen friends (literally) and not feel cramped!  The latin percussionist pounded out a rhythm, the rum drinks flowed, and we partied with Rocky and Nish Patel (Rocky Patel Cigars), Pete Johnson (Tatuaje), Carlito Fuente (Fuente Cigars) and Dion Giolito (Illusione Cigars) until they closed the place down.  At 2:30am Tony disappeared to gamble, and I went wandering with my friend Chuck and our new friend, The Fadda.  Apparantly, Chuck had some sort of crisis, as he couldn’t swear, chase women, gamble or smoke in front of the Priest, who had no compulsions about doing any of the above.  The guy had a hell of a story, and I enjoyed talking with him.  Chuck eventually ditched us, and we called it a night at 4:00am.  Bidding him goodnight, I went back to the hotel and crashed.

Check back this week for Saturday and Sunday’s blow-by-blow analysis!

Are Ultra Premium Cigars Worth the Price? by Andy Picone (guest contributor)

Not quite as taxing as the Rolex versus Timex question, yet perhaps a bit more interesting.

When asked, a group of seasoned cigar smoking friends offered a resounding no. Derived from various walks of life, not one of these folks could give a solid reason as to why a single cigar should demand a $25+ price tag. Addressing the issue from a financial perspective, some choose to compare the pay scales of tobacco workers, to a broader guess as to the cost of production. Based on these factors, this group could not justify the cost or determine a value. I believe the answer is a bit deeper.

We are seeing tobacco manufacturers applying Marketing 101 to their ultra premium brands. They include wonderful nomenclatures such as limited production and special edition. Some tie the brands to people, moments in time, birthdays and alike. They will peak consumer interest with public relation-based tease campaigns. Special release dates are selected and distribution begins albeit limited, by design. Do you remember finding, then paying $35 for the Padron 45th Anniversary cigar?  Guilty as charged.

Ultra premium cigars must deliver a quality, flavor and body keeping with the high price tag. The cigar needs to produce a special flavor, be constructed beyond compare, burn to a razors edge, and leave your ashtray with a stiff remnant, pure white as the driven snow. Often times, the seasoned smoker is more likely to accept a defect in a less expensive cigar, but not from an ultra premium. A plugged cigar, or one that produces a headache-inducing draw, perhaps a runner, or one whose ash drops off from the breeze of a passer-by will not be tolerated. A wise man once told me, “a happy customer will tell their experiences to 7 friends; an unhappy customer will tell 16”. Quality control of these cigars must be of the utmost prior to the manufacturers. Make it perfect, and the sky is the limit. A marketing success story but could just as easily become a marketing fiasco should the product not deliver on its promise of superior quality.

The emphasis on quality of the ultras opens an interesting can of worms. Is there any benefit to the lower prices cigars produced by a manufacturer when stricter quality control standards are place on the ultra premium cigars in his portfolio?

I believe so.

The manufacturer understands the lower priced entries may used as a stepping stone by the consumer to their higher priced brands. He wants to offer a great smoking experience across all levels, without fear of alienation. Further, the manufacturer may run into a public relations nightmare if their lower priced cigars are constantly riddled with production problem, yet the ultra’s remain flawless. This is a situation they will attempt to avoid at all costs. Finally, a wonderful old world charm appears to be in place with manufacturers I’ve had the pleasure to meet. To them, their reputation and in some cases, that of their family is at the core of their success and they work quite hard never to have it tarnished by poorly made products or underhanded dealings.

To sum up, the flavor and craftsmanship offered by ultra premium cigars is exactly that, ultra premium. I’ve smoked my share of these cigars, and have yet to be disappointed by their performance; never once regretting having spent the money. Cigar manufacturers understand that perhaps the greatest trait of any cigar smokers is the ability to vividly recall a smoking experience at the drop of a hat. So whether you pick up a corona for six or twenty six dollars, their wish is only for your total enjoyment. Candidly speaking, they cannot bank on anything else.

(P.S. Alex and Tony will be in Las Vegas for the Big Smoke this weekend- Casa Fuente Friday night, Big Smoke Saturday!  Say hi if you’re around, and we’ll have a full write-up next week!)

“The Style vs. Your Style” by Alex Lukoff

There once was a time when the men were men, and women were happy for it.  A man would come home from a hard day at work, kiss the wife on the cheek, pat the kids on the head, pour himself 4-fingers of scotch and sit down in his den with a newspaper where he was not to be disturbed.  Once adequately sequestered from his family, he would pull out his trusty pipe and pack a bowl.

What happened to this vision of married life?  No, not the cooking (my girlfriend can’t, so I have to), the alcoholism, the anti-social behavior or the decrease in the living wage.  The pipe part.  What- you were expecting another lecture about the decay of modern society?

The world of tobacco used to have three clearly delineated classes.  Cigarettes were for welders and mechanics, pipes were for accountants and white collar workers, and cigars were for plutocrats and robber-barons.  But all that changed.  I think it was the 60’s, when light beer, TV trays and microwaves encouraged this country to GO GO GO!  Hurry up, eat fast, watch this, drive big cars, and god forbid you act like a European.

In our quest to work harder and do more, we didn’t have the time to stop and enjoy a smoke anymore.  A cigarette takes 4-minutes, but cigar is 45-90 minutes, and a well-packed pipe can be an hour.  For the masses, the choice is clear.  But, I like to zig when others zag.  I’ve been a cigar smoker since college, and recently picked up a pipe again.  Having not smoked one in a decade, I was anxious to see if my new skills would translate.  What I discovered was a smoking experience left over from another time, like a coelacanth.

With a pipe, it’s not light it once and maybe even out the burn.  It’s an activity that requires attention and patience.  Assuming that your pipe is already broken in (broken in!), even packing the bowl is an art form that requires practice.  Once you light it (different techniques abound!), you puff, slowly and gently.  Like a cigar, don’t let it burn too hot, or you can crack the pipe itself!  Then, inevitably, it will go out.  So you tap out the ashes, tamp the tobacco down, and re light.  Then it’ll go out again.

It can be frustrating, all this tamping and re-lighting.  Not to mention that your friends will probably call you “Sherlock” at least twice.  But the reward is in the process.  You find yourself slowing down, enjoying the activity.  Feeling the bowl heat up, testing the springiness of the tobacco.  Carefully and evenly re-lighting.  And of course, that heavenly aroma!  I’ve never smelled a bad pipe tobacco, and it seems like everyone has some memory that can only be accessed through the olfactory glands.

I guess, like everything else, it comes down to who you think you are, and how you choose to portray that image to the world.  For me, sitting outside a coffee shop with a packed pipe and a little classical music while watching the world go by is about as good as it gets.  I know some people will make fun of me, but I’ve got thick skin, and I know that most people will appreciate the reminder that their grandfather loved them.

“Go Baby Go” by Alex Lukoff

I had a strange Friday last week.  A very different couple of obligations were on my plate, and they caused me to reflect back on them over the weekend.  Of course, it’s often that we have multiple commitments in a day, what with Blackberrys, iPhones and Microsoft Outlook, our days are more precisely scheduled than ever.  But sometimes you have two things to do that are so different, they make you question your worldview.

I was asked to visit a high school on Friday.  A friend of mine, a math teacher, has a student that she said was guaranteed admission to the UC system if he would only write a personal statement.  But he couldn’t.  An extreme case of writers block.  The teacher knows about this blog and my (unique) writing style, and asked if I would be willing to spend an hour with the student to help him collect his thoughts.  I was happy to.

In one week of writing, he had produced one short paragraph.  But that paragraph was an emotional gut-punch.  He was trying to compress his entire unpleasant past into as little space as possible, which I found to be very telling.  It’s understandable why a high school senior would be embarrassed about having to sleep on the floor with his parents and 3 siblings in one room, or being homeless for 6-months, or having to move from relative to relative with his family.  He was a good kid, well spoken, and very smart, but he couldn’t seem to group his thoughts in any coherent manner.  He would look me in the eye when telling me about his aspirations and work ethic, but would quickly stare at the ground when his past was discussed.

After an hour, we had a few small breakthroughs.  I told him stories of people I had known that had succeeded against great odds, that he could achieve his goals.  I assured him that high school was not forever, college wouldn’t be as scary as he thought, and that one day, the pain of his childhood would just be another part of his history and not a defining characteristic.  His goals of merely wanting a better life for himself and his family were admirable, and made me feel ashamed of my materialism.

After I left campus, I went to Santa Anita to the horse track for a law firm’s annual mixer.  A few short hours after I had arrived on campus, I was rubbing elbows with corporate attorneys, business owners, entrepreneurs, and bankers.  The conversation was cocktail-party pleasant, but there was no depth.  People talked about business, the economy, health insurance, and business.  And as the bugler called everyone’s attention to the track, my shrimp cocktail and bourbon tasted sour.  As the bell rang and the gates opened and people threw money at the bookie’s window, my lamb shank somehow didn’t have the flavor it did last year.  Don’t get me wrong, I had a good time.  But I’d rather put my money on a different race.  I’d rather cheer for a math student than Teacher’s Pet.

“Everyday Absurdity” by ALex Lukoff

What do you do for fun, and where do you do it?  I know that one answer is that you read this blog, and that’s probably done at your office when you should be working.  But what else?  Are you a gardener?  An equestrian?  Golfer?  An Oenophile or a Cigar Aficionado?

 

I have a number of hobbies, but I have an unusual curse.  Like my father before me, my brain has been cross-wired to associate work with play, and play with work.  One manifestation of this unfortunate mental mix-up is the tendency to play in charity golf tournaments, but not 4-somes with my friends on the weekend.  If there’s a way to make something work-like or relaxation-like, I’ll almost always choose work.

 

So what’s a poor, mixed up guy to do?  As the song says, get your kicks on Route 66.  It’s a boring road, but I guess people found a way to have some fun on it.  Which is kind of how I view the world- an otherwise boring place that demands that you make your own fun.

 

As I shared in a previous entry, one of the things I like to do is to tell the waitress to bring me the burger of her choice, but nothing with Jalapenos.  Any burger on the menu is fine.  There are other times that you’ll find an opportunity to talk to a stranger at some unexpected moment as they’re momentarily having the same experience as you.  Or, you can walk up to a cigar smoker at a coffee shop and ask “Whatcha’ Smokin’?”

 

Recently, I saw someone who I’m sure would have been an absolute laugh riot to spend a day with.  While crawling up the 405 Freeway at 5:30pm on a Friday, I found myself stuck behind a green Honda Element.  The back had stickers on it.  Actually, not on it- all over it.  Scooby Doo, rainbows, the Mystery Machine, as well as drapes on the inside of the window.  I got the distinct impression that Shaggy was at the wheel.  As we worked our way towards the exit ramp, I let him merge in front of me.

 

Right as I let him in, the driver flicked on his rear windscreen wiper, and attached to it was a miniature American flag.  He was waving the flag at me as a sign of appreciation!  I laughed out loud at the absurdity.  Then he got over another lane and did it again!  It was such a refreshing bit of madness in a traffic jam, such an honest expression of inner-joy and merriness, that I couldn’t help but be in a better mood.  We should pay that guy to drive around the freeways and wave at passing motorists.  And let him smoke all the weed he wants.

 

Home may be where the heart is, and every dog has his day.  But, life is what you make of it, and fun is as fun does.  Go have some fun out there today.  Oh, and write to us!

“I Coulda Been Somebody… I Coulda Been a Blogger” by Alex Lukoff

Hey! So you think you got what it takes? Can you hold a nation spellbound with the written word? Even if you can’t do you have something funny, original or interesting to say? If not, you can ignore this. But if you do, write to us!

Send your blog submissions to info@thecigarguys.net. We’ll review them and post the best/funniest/strangest articles. But it gets better- if your article is chosen as the best of the month, we’ll send you a cigar! A good one, even!

So get typing- the world’s waiting to see what’s on your mind!