Ode to the Cigar Bomber

bombThere’s a knock at the door and you wonder who it could be. Why, it’s the USPS mail guy, and for some reason he’s hand delivering my mail on this very fine Saturday afternoon. That’s odd, he never comes to the door, unless… unless there’s a package. Hey, will ya look at that! My postal pal DOES have a package addressed to me… a big ol’ box, none the less. “Who is it from,” I wonder, as I look for a knife to slice open the packing tape. Damn… no name on the outside, just an address. “Who the heck is it from and what on earth could it be,” I think aloud as I peel back the tape, flip back the corrugated lids and plunge my hands into a sea of styrofoam peanuts! Wait a minute… I feel something in there… and voila, I unearth a monster sized zip-lock bag ensconced in a layer of neatly wound bubble wrap.

Picture 14Scissors! Nurse… hand me the scissors… I’m going in!

Gently I clip around the edges as not to slice the precious contents of this mystery package that has happened it’s way to my front door this ordinary autumn weekend. Like in the Twilight Zone episode, “The Eye of the Beholder”, I unwrap layer upon layer of protective gauze, and as I peel back the final layer, I gasp as my eyes open wide and jaw drops to my kitchen’s granite countertop. But unlike the Rod Serling saga that displayed an image of frightful horror to the medical staff, I have just unraveled a vision of beauty so lovely that birds begin to sing as flowers actually sprout from the very ground.

WOW… Somebody sent me CIGARS!!!

Surprise, Zman, YOU HAVE BEEN BOMBED! Now incase this hasn’t happened to you, bombing is a term when one brother of the leaf sends a fellow toker of tobacco an unannounced package of premium hand rolled goodness. You didn’t ask for it, and you didn’t know it was coming, but it came… it came just the same. And this particular package just happens to be loaded to the gills with enough ring gauge action to get me through ‘til springtime, I tell ya! I mean just look at this golden menagerie of wrapped leafy splendor… Ashton VSG’s, Avo Maduro, Bolivar Cofradia, Camacho 10th Anniversary, CAO Brazillia, Fonseca, Cubano Limatado, Frank, Llaneza 1961, La Gloria Cubana Serie R, Montecristo White, Partagas Black, Punch Grand Cru, and several other cigars that make my mouth water, head spin, and palate yearn for a mid day smoke (or three or four!)

And that’s not all… there’s some Hawaiian coffee, a cigar t-shirt and a hat, and several cutters… but much to my surprise… NO NAME! The devilish do-gooder who sent this care package from the heavens has chosen to remain anonymous! And damn, isn’t that just like a real, honest to goodness BOTL? I can tell you without question that cigar smokers are some of the finest and most generous people on the face of God’s green earth. They give, give, and give, only looking to bring joy to their fellow partakers of the puro. I have seen this type of heartfelt gifting done over and over  (say, I may have even done some of it myself) and it is really what makes cigar connoisseurs worldwide, some of the finest individuals known to mankind.

So here’s to you, oh cigar bomber of the leaf-o-shpere. You give from the heart, pounding our mailboxes with surprise, and filling our humidors with tobacco grown in God’s sun kissed fields. May the good Lord bless you, oh spreader of Churchill cheer.

Tommy Z.


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