fjrabon
Been spending a lot of time on here!
- Joined
- Nov 3, 2011
- Messages
- 3,644
- Reaction score
- 754
- Location
- Atlanta, GA, USA
- Can others edit my Photos
- Photos OK to edit
Too often I don't finish my cigars. I smoke about half of it and then some inconsequential stuff comes up and I let the smoke dwindle and die. Tonight I smoked the whole thing. A man or perhaps a woman made this thing, with their bare hands. Knowing the brand, whoever made it made the cigar with a sense of pride. In that part of the world a cigar maker is a profession of pride passed down through generations. I'll probably never meet this person but perhaps I know something of them. They took some part of their day for the express purpose of making some part of my day incrementally better. As I sit here on my porch watching the cars and occasional stray cat traverse Howell Mill Road, the smoke from that cigar warms on a chilly evening. And maybe that means something. Smoking a cigar should be a commitment. Not a major one like marriage, but a commitment none the less to both oneself and the maker of that cigar such that their time wasn't wasted. All the maker of that cigar really wants is to know the world is a little bit better because of the way they folded a bit of tobacco that was expertly grown and aged by the glorious yellow ball. The same ball that warms the early morning photographs that comprise the living I chose to make myself. So, yeah. Enjoy your cigar and don't let immaterial bull**** get in the way of things that ultimately matter less than a man or woman's sense of worth and pride.
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