Saturday, August 29, 2015

On #SotL, Huge Ring Gauges, & the Correlation Drawn

Some time ago, I was asked how I feel about the sister of the leaf (#SotL) yin to the #B(rother)otL yang. Personally, I have always used the female oriented hashtag, but to he honest -- not out of any particular sense of altruism. I want to be seen. Recognized. Loved. DONATEd to (look to your somewhat immediate right -- yellow button -- says DONATE).

This question got me thinking, however. An Orthodox congregation (think Catholic Church) saw to my Brooklyn, NY Bar Mitzvah. Fast forward some decades and I am now a member of a Reconstructionist congregation (Think Unitarian Church -- perhaps AA meeting) in Oregon. Orthodox women cannot even sit alongside men in the shul. My current Rabbi is female. See the dichotomy?

Would it strike you as off-putting if I were to tell you that for a small second, I found it off-putting when my new lady Rabbi handled the Torah scrolls? Over-coming conditioning is a tough task.

Are these brazen females brazenly impeding upon a man’s world? Let's evaluate the root of that question and immediately find that ours is a castle build on sand. Simply, this is not a man's world. At least not biologically. Sadly, it is very much a man's world socially and politically, but we see now that all that is build on falsehood. Over-coming conditioning is a tough task -- especially when a particular segment of a population is so fully entrenched in the comfort of this very conditioning.
I can hear ya, sirs. "The cigar world is a gentleman's club." I wholeheartedly agree. The other day, at a cigar shop, I was cut in front of in line by a "gentleman" in basketball shorts and backward baseball cap who was fresh off of proudly butchering every cigar name that was not English. Is that a gentleman?

There too existed in the shop on that day, a representative of the phenomenon of the sharp-suited, fedora wearing female who hearkens back to the legendary female Blues singers of 1920s Harlem. I would posit these women (in a knowingly dangerous blanket statement) of being superior gentlepersons to the fella I just made mention of.

In short, I’d rather a fedora wearing man tailored suit wearing lady light up next to me, than a dude in a pair of b-ball shorts and backward cap flinging his Christopher Columbus all over the bless-ed place. Show the leaf some respect, dig?

I’d rather anything over a kid with wet milk from his mommy's tit on his chin pretending to be Rush Limbaugh. I believe there is a rite of passage at play in the cigar lifestyle. It is age oriented, and I refuse to hear claims of "it's not the age, it's the experience." Neuroscience will tell you that a brain is not fully developed until the mid 20s and I ain't a baby-sitter.

Authenticity. Give me authenticity along with that respect. That -- is what a cigar is, and then, what a cigar warrants. Please don't try to talk me into the fact that white privilege laziness insofar as attire and attitude might be either authentic or offering of some relativism form of respect. Feh.

I could care less about your gender and/or sexuality. Just thought I'd squeeze that in...
Big, fat, zaftik ring gauges -- that’s the craze -- Some as much a an honest inch thick. Why do you find yourself reading this? I'll hopefully explain soon enough.

When pressed as to why this style of cigar is preferred, mere cosmetic reasons are oft expressed. Guys, a lot of them, seemingly like a big fat ... cigar in their smoke-hole. Sexual connotations aside, I prefer a Lancero. Something in way of a Pantella. A chef’s offering over an all you can eat homespun buffet replete with instant taters. You simply get more of the best characteristics. ie: the wrapper, craftsmanship. A cooler sip of a smoke. Less of a bum rush. Plus the added bonus of not appearing to onlookers as does the man who drives an over-sized truck, revving its engine incessantly.

I won’t have my appendages dictate to me the size of cigar I choose. Chicks dig my ten inch personality no matter what I might opt to puff.

Also cited is the weird connection between bigger gauges and more robust smoke. Big Smoke. Flavor Country. ROBUST. Firstly, there is no true correlation between size and body/flavor/strength. Secondly, an awful lot of smokers are doing it wrong, and by "it" I mean "smoking." I have seen a good deal of self proclaimed full body lovers become medium body lovers once they get the hang of retro-haling, or at the least, letting smoke linger in their yaps long enough to drift upward toward sinuses.

Can I throwback to #SOTL? Gosh I do hope so.
Guys who find a woman smoking a cigar to be crazy sexy -- might I recommend transsexual pornography?

The woman in Shul should not distract you from G-d, as the woman in the cigar shop should not distract you from your phallus cigar enjoyment. There is a Straight Pride image floating around the Internet for some time now -- a spin-off of the Gay Pride rainbow. A "rainbow" of black, white ---- and grey, is depicted. The grey is transsexual pornography, gentlepersons! It's a booming business, too.

In that grey too falls a blind admiration of over-sized cigar offerings. A cigar is never just a cigar. Especially, Siggy, when you smoke twenny a day even as your jaw falls off yer face in assorted sized chunks.

I do, at last, feel as though I've kept you long enough. I'll wrap it up by again stating the importance of authenticity and respect. I too will note that men will always be the majority in our circles. We won. We won by default, in much the same way women won the war on crocheting -- sheer predisposition.

When you win, the trick is to act as if you've won many times before. No need for celebration or for tantrums. In the parlance of our times, "You got this."

I have, finally, decided to do away with both the S and the B and use #OTL. Of the Leaf -- a magazine which refuses to return my messages. Oy.