Tuesday, July 05, 2011


Let us call him the ostrich. Not because he resembles one, or has a big feathery bottom.
Nor even because of any nobility of gait, or elegant plumage.

The situation is this:
I asked why he was STILL smoking those phallic objects (cigars), when we all know that his good woman is keen to marry.
White-bread weddings are a pricy proposition.
Cut back on the expenses, man, you’ll need all that money after you pop the question.
He explained that he’s smoking to make space. There are three boxes of cigars for which there is no room in the humidor.

Dude, simply buy another one.

It seemed like good advice to me. The Ostrich has enough cigars to last the better part of a decade, as well as tons of pipe tobacco.
And he prefers smoking a pipe anyway.
Given the cost of his daily cigar-destruction, he’d recoup the expense of a reserve humidor in no time.
Do the math, and you’ll see what I mean.

One penis-shaped bunch of leaves, average: $15.00. Three or four a day.
One tin of pipe tobacco which will take at least a week to smoke: $15.00.
One large two-hundred stick capacity wooden box: $150.00 to $500.00.

Properly stored, cigars keep for years. Improve with age. Win-win.


Did I already mention that his good lady is interested in marriage?
She doesn’t sound like she has enough imagination to dispense with the ring-requirement.
More like a standard-issue wanna-be suburbanite who reads romance novels, self-help, and celebrity gossip mags.
Down payment on a house, plus a new four-wheel drive and a pet Pomeranian.

Not really a gay bohemian determined to go against the grain.
The ring is an essential part of the whole deal!
Three (or more) months’ salary.
No two ways about it.
Bite bullet.

At hearing this he balked. Three months salary? Ridiculous!
Surely a silly little ring couldn’t cost so much!
He’d find a way around that!
Three months?

At this point several people strongly advised against going to a pawnshop.
And don’t think of getting an el cheapo cubic zirconium.
For crap’s sake, dude, do the right thing!
Oh the effing humanity!
Think, man, think.

The day after you give a woman a ring she’s headed downtown to have it appraised.
Jeweler gonna ask why she buyin’ cheap sh*t from his cousin Manny?
Then offer her two hundred bucks, no questions.
She will so cut you!

He still can’t accept how expensive that bauble is going to be. Refuses to even entertain the concept. Hardly seems worth it! No way José!
How long does the average marriage last anyhow? Seven years?
Nope, gonna find a plan. Just you watch.

I interjected that the well-chosen humidor could easily last three or four times as long.
And saving up for the ring would be much easier at 50 cents per smoke (a pipe of fine tobacco) than at $15.00 (a representation of masculine inadequacy constructed out of dead leaves).
It’s surprising how fast money accumulates when it isn’t “going up in flames”.

He still doesn’t get it.

Before he left, we promised to hook him up with the very best divorce lawyer we know before he even proposes.
We have his best interests at heart - you got the A team advising you. We know what we're talking about.
Make sure the prenup specifically excludes the cigar and tobacco stockpile from the joint assets.
As well as the prize collection of briar pipes.

Because otherwise, dude, she’s taking HALF of it all when she dumps your cheap ass!

No, she wouldn’t do that, what use would they be to her?

A valid question, albeit it entirely beside the point. Slightly more than beyond clueless.

He also insists he could demand half of her purses and shoes.
Clearly he doesn’t grasp the gravity of the situation.
Those purses and shoes, hmmph! SO last year!
They will be by the time she dumps him.

If he doesn’t get her a decent ring he’s simply asking for trouble.

He thinks he can bargain. Redeem the pipes, cigars, tobacco.
Get off Scott-free, out-maneuver her, and have it all anyway.

Maybe I should get in touch with the young lady in question.
Tell her to cut everything exactly down the middle.
Her one half, and him one half.
A left side, a right side.
Pipes and cigars.
Humidor too.

* * *

I really hope I get invited to the wedding.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


Tzipporah said...

Your analysis makes no sense. The cigars are already bought. Smoking them costs only the price of a match, the time to do it, and the social consequences of smelling like crap.

Buying a humidor or pipe tobacco requires an outlay of new money.

The back of the hill said...


The process of smoking the ones that he cannot fit into his current humidor means that he will very soon feel the need to resupply, lest the number of cigars available for his pleasure diminish.
Not smoking anymore cigars will keep him from spending more money replenishing his stockpile.

Besides, pipe gang disapproves of these obsessive forays into the dark side.
Pipes: good.
Hand-rolled cigars: evil.
[Small cigarillos: like eating ice-cream standing at the kitchen sink.]

He's got a more than ten year supply of pipe tobacco. He probably won't feel the obsessive need to acquire more until he's been married for a while.

Anonymous said...

The wisdom of my cigar smoking great-uncle, was to sit on his lawn chair, smoke a good Cuban, and read the newspaper for 45 minutes or so, right outside of his door.....in perfect peace..no kids..no chatter...just a cigar and a paper. He and my Great-Aunt were married for over 70 years. Oh yeah, he never quit smoking (or wearing spats.)


Anonymous said...

Depravitas, depravitatum, dixit Coheles; depravitas, depravitatum, omnia depravitas!

The back of the hill said...

Ecclesiastes, not Coheles. You mean Ecclesiastes.

Slip of the old lashon?

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