I oft equate the full enjoyment of a cigar with none too shallow of a meditation. Many practitioners of meditation begin first with a statement of intent.
Too, I recognize and do revel in, the ritualistic aspect of the act of smoking. Be that ritual cradling yourself in your favorite smoking chair, music, accoutre mon, or surroundings.
It is all part of a transcendence from the mundane.
Cigar Reserve, on the other five fingered hand, does indeed have the reputation of knowing their stuff.
I sit and declare my intent in the form of removing a personalized spill from its nifty packaging. A man can be made to feel like a VIP, even if fresh off a trip to the market in which his credit card was declined. I then engage in the age old ritual of fire. I light the spill on an early Saturday evening. I'll light the Sabbath candles soon. Ritual. Unnecessary steps because man cannot live by bread alone. I suppose this then becomes quite necessary, no?
In an homage to older than the current Old School craze, spills were once used before the invention of lighters and such -- to bring a smaller, more personal flame from a larger communal fire.
The smell of the burning cedar is quite lovely. For a moment I question it as akin to lighting from a scented candle. I quickly realize that cedar and cigars go back in time together even further and in more illustriously symbiotic ways than do bell bottoms and chicken grease.
The spill does truly add to the first good handful of pulls. It elevates my Casa de Garcia Red to a good fiver. Elevates? No... Enhances.
My lone remaining skepticism was already done away with by then, as I easily and nimbly toasted the foot of my House of Gary offering. It was not in the least, an unwieldy affair. The design here is, indeed, well planned and well executed by the Cigar Reserve folks. It actually, even on my slightly breezy porch -- felt more effective and more natural than my vulgar plastic Djeep.
I even enjoyed my custom engraved name burning down on the side of the spill. Let loose your ego, I told myself. Watch it burn away, and find nothing left but Truth, metaphysical reality. We are all one. The ego simply disguises this verisimilitude.
"Verisimilitude?" I respond to me. You're so clever, I say to myself. Sexy, too. I now say to you, dear reader: try yourself a pack of Cigar Reserve Cedar Spills.
Tell 'em Kap's ego sent ya.
Visit www.CigarReserve.com to place your order.
I am not a paid spokesperson.