Chesapeake Smoke

The perceptive reader will probably have already surmised that this post has nothing (well, almost nothing) to do with cigars.  But I hope you’ll keep reading anyway.

A week ago Friday, another member of America’s Greatest Generation went to his eternal reward.  I know, that generation is dying off at an appalling rate, but this was a special person.  It was Joseph Kovalesky, my Uncle Joe.  He died at the age of 87, from kidney failure, In Phoenix, AZ, and I flew out for the funeral.  I had a chance to reconnect with my family, most of whom I hadn’t seen in decades, and I learned a lot about my uncle.

The youngest child of seven, he pulled himself up from a tough life in Depression-stricken coal country in northeastern Pennsylvania and ended life as a wonderful family man and patriot.

He was a Pearl Harbor survivor, stationed at the Army base at Schofield Barracks, and went on to fight in the Pacific Theater of Operations for two and a half years.  He was awarded a Bronze Star … I didn’t see the citation, but I suspect it was from his first combat action, at Guadalcanal.  He served through the Korea and Vietnam eras, retiring in 1968 with 26 years of honorable service as a Master Sergeant.

He was proud of his service to his country … almost as proud as he was of the family he raised.  A great husband and father, he only did one bad thing that I’m aware of — he set the bar way too high for folks like me.

At both the wake and the funeral, I was amazed at the steady flow of people who came out to honor him.  He was, as the Kinks said, “a well-respected man.”  The funeral service was one of the most dignified send-offs I’ve ever witnessed, and the military ceremony at the cemetery was flawlessly executed by men of the Arizona National Guard, among whose numbers I counted several CIBs, Purple Hearts and Bronze Stars.  Iraq and Afghanistan veterans, no doubt, these young men gave him the respect he deserved.  There wasn’t a dry eye to be seen as Taps was softly played.

After watching the wonderful display of love and respect for this man, I found myself hoping that I’d be worthy of half of what he got when I go to meet my maker.

So long, Uncle Joe!  I’ve been saving that Padron 45 for a special occasion, I think I’ll fire it up tomorrow in your honor.

Yeah, I know, another long absence.  Some of you may know that, over the past few months, I’ve had some severe lower back issues.  One neurosurgeon looked at my MRI in August and suggested not only surgery, but spinal fusion surgery.  And for about the past three months, I’ve been eating Percosets like M&Ms, along with wearing a morphine patch.  Needless to say, I’ve been in lala land.  It ain’t been pretty.

But yesterday, I underwent an amazing procedure, called a rhizotomy, to deaden the offending nerves.  I won’t go into the details, if you’re interested, Google it.  The good news is that it appears to be working, and I’ve already noticed a greatly-decreased need for opiate-based pain killers.  So I can address this sorely-neglected blog once again.

Somehow, during the course of all this, I not only managed to keep my day job, but I also passed muster at Davidus Cigars, and am now working at their flagship Annapolis store.  It’s quite a place, 2500 square feet, and has what I’m told is the largest walk-in humidor in the state of Maryland.

But enough about me.  Now that I’m largely free of that opium haze, I need to post some cigar reviews from our friend Dale Green.

Happy smoking, my friends!