Still too many.
I want to get down to one tower cabinet, one medium cabinet for loose sticks, and two wine-idors. I'm down to hard decisions, though because now what's left is stuff I smoke all the time.
I figure it this way: I've got 29 years left if I'm fortunate enough to live to be 80; if I smoke one cigar a day between now and then, that's 10,732 cigars.
Some days I don't smoke one; but at herfs I'll smoke 3-4, and on rare days I smoke a couple, so I guess it evens out. More or less.
I certainly don't have near that many, but hell...I figure I'll buy a couple more sticks in those 29 years.
Thing is, I don't have anyone to leave whatever I have to when I do croak.
If I know ahead of time I could fire-sale them; but if I went suddenly, my collection might end up getting sold by my family - non-cigar folk, all - for a fraction of what they're worth, possibly to people who wouldn't even appreciate them or the care I took of them.
So I suppose it's about balance.
We - ALL of us - tend to get carried away to one extent or another with our interests, but for some reason, this one in particular. At some point we'll start to collect rather than buy purely to enjoy. The transition is gradual and goes unnoticed by us 100% of the time; although our families usually see it.
Aging; there's stuff I have that I've had for years, aging for some point in the future, each box with its own expectations as to time needed.
And that's fine...except that if I went tomorrow, those boxes from years ago would go untasted. If I go in 10 years those Gold Medals and other juicy bits of heaven, put off for another day, another year, would have been aged for someone else; one could only hope that they'd be enjoyed as much as you expected to enjoy them.
I won't stop aging cigars. I won't take that joy, that deliciously excruciating anticipation away from myself no matter the dark thoughts that leak in from what Stephen King calls "the crocodile brain" - that primitive, ageless part where the darkness lies in wait for the moments when it senses vulnerability.
But unlike in the past, I won't hesitate to crack open a box or cab if I feel like it, or smoke either or both of those 2001 Cohiba EL Pyramides if the urge strikes.
Don't mind me; most of this is for me, to work it out for myself. I figure this is a good place for it.
And now I hope you'll excuse me, as I have a very nice cigar to go smoke. Or three.
:ss :ss :ss
Still too many.
I want to get down to one tower cabinet, one medium cabinet for loose sticks, and two wine-idors. I'm down to hard decisions, though because now what's left is stuff I smoke all the time.
I figure it this way: I've got 29 years left if I'm fortunate enough to live to be 80; if I smoke one cigar a day between now and then, that's 10,732 cigars.
Some days I don't smoke one; but at herfs I'll smoke 3-4, and on rare days I smoke a couple, so I guess it evens out. More or less.
I certainly don't have near that many, but hell...I figure I'll buy a couple more sticks in those 29 years.
Thing is, I don't have anyone to leave whatever I have to when I do croak.
If I know ahead of time I could fire-sale them; but if I went suddenly, my collection might end up getting sold by my family - non-cigar folk, all - for a fraction of what they're worth, possibly to people who wouldn't even appreciate them or the care I took of them.
So I suppose it's about balance.
We - ALL of us - tend to get carried away to one extent or another with our interests, but for some reason, this one in particular. At some point we'll start to collect rather than buy purely to enjoy. The transition is gradual and goes unnoticed by us 100% of the time; although our families usually see it.
Aging; there's stuff I have that I've had for years, aging for some point in the future, each box with its own expectations as to time needed.
And that's fine...except that if I went tomorrow, those boxes from years ago would go untasted. If I go in 10 years those Gold Medals and other juicy bits of heaven, put off for another day, another year, would have been aged for someone else; one could only hope that they'd be enjoyed as much as you expected to enjoy them.
I won't stop aging cigars. I won't take that joy, that deliciously excruciating anticipation away from myself no matter the dark thoughts that leak in from what Stephen King calls "the crocodile brain" - that primitive, ageless part where the darkness lies in wait for the moments when it senses vulnerability.
But unlike in the past, I won't hesitate to crack open a box or cab if I feel like it, or smoke either or both of those 2001 Cohiba EL Pyramides if the urge strikes.
Don't mind me; most of this is for me, to work it out for myself. I figure this is a good place for it.
And now I hope you'll excuse me, as I have a very nice cigar to go smoke. Or three.
:ss :ss :ss
I want to get down to one tower cabinet, one medium cabinet for loose sticks, and two wine-idors. I'm down to hard decisions, though because now what's left is stuff I smoke all the time.
Thing is, I don't have anyone to leave whatever I have to when I do croak.
:ss :ss :ss