Chesapeake Smoke

It happened. This past Wednesday, President Obama signed the S-CHIP (State Children’s Health Insurance Program) Bill into law. The mainstream media talking heads, on both evening news and morning shows, were almost giddy in reporting how this piece of legislation would be funded entirely through taxes on cigarettes. Not surprisingly, Matt Lauer and Katie Couric and all their drones … oops, clones … got it wrong. According to the bill, effective 1 April, we’ll be seeing another forty cents in federal excise tax tacked onto the price of a single stogie. Ever the optimist, I can only give a sigh of relief that the tax is capped at 40 cents, far below what some lawmakers had originally proposed.

Then I mentioned the tax to my wife who is trained in the law of the land. She labeled this tax “anther tax on the poorer segments of America.” By creating a tax with a cap, in this case 40 cents per stick, the percentage of the price which goes to the tax gets progressively less the higher the cost of the cigar. So 40 cents is a mere pittance when you’re already spending twenty buck for a Padron 1926, but it’s a huge hit, percentage-wise, if you’re plunking down a mere $3.50 for a Punch Rothschild. So our boys on Capital Hill are not only taxing the smokers, they’ve given us a new regressive tax that hits poorer people, or those who smoke less expensive cigars, at a disproportionately higher rate. Good going, guys!

Yes, my friends, it’s been a wild and crazy week. Sandwiched in between some most excellent stogies.

Last Friday, I met a co-worker and a friend of his at Titan. After getting them settled with cigars and asult beverages, I reached into my travel-dor and pulled out a La Flor Oscuro Cabinet Churchill, finished with a pigtail at the foot. I got it from Mark, the local La Flor rep. Thinking it was like all the other Oscuro Cabinets I’ve smoked in the past, I jumped right into it. A half hour later, my head was spinning, I was sweating profusely and needed a major dose of fresh air. Which really didn’t help much. After putting the stick down and waiting a half hour or so, I regained my composure. I haven’t gotten whacked like that by a cigar since the last time I tried to get more than halfway through an LG. Another major ass-kicking cigar. The whole episode left me wondering if Mark keeps a bunch of high-octane samplers in his stash.

The weekend presented me with a sports Trifecta. First, I got to sit six rows from the ice on Saturday (courtesy of my daughter and son-in-law) as the Washington Capitals slapped the Detroit Red Wings down. One hell of a game, always up for grabs. The Wings are a quality, class team, and they certainly made the Caps work for that win. Sunday, the Caps made it 2-0 by downing the Ottawa Senators 7-4, then I spent the evening working at Titan while my all-time-favorite Pittsburgh Steelers won their sixth Vince Lombardi trophy. A great game, punctuated by some great cigars. I smoked another of Mike’s Graycliffes, and somewhere along the line dug into my humidor to give him one of my last Felipe Gregorio Fusion IIs. He loved it (no surprise there) and thought he detected hints of blueberry in the flavor profile. Damn but I wish I had his palate.

Monday, I was in my car (a 1987 diesel Mercedes Benz I’ve dubbed the Rauchendwagen, or Smoking Car), getting reqcquainted with Fuente’s Double Chateau as I motored down to Fort Bragg. I haven’t had a Fuente product in quite a while, and that smoke reminded me yet again of why I can always recommend them to customers with a clear conscience.

Tonight … Norfolk. I think I’ll do diner at Il Giardino in Virginia Beach, then off to the Coyote Cantina (if it’s still there) to find out if I can still smoke a stogie in the back bar. We shall see.

Happy smoking, my friends!