On the corner at 238 W 33rd Street on Chicago’s South Side sits a pub slash sports bar known as Turtles.  It’s within walking distance from Comiskey Park (now known by the ridiculous moniker Guaranteed Rate Field), Turtles is the real deal of Bridgeport’s drinking and hanging-out establishments. When we stopped in recently, the regulars could be seen forming a huge circle of chairs outside, increasing in numbers as we ate our burgers and salad inside looking out the windows.  It was obvious that everybody knew one another – toothy smiles, solid handshakes, warm hugs, the clanking of ..read more

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man. There is nothing permanent except change.” (Google)  The latter text is ascribed to the philosopher Heraclitus of Ephesus (near modern Kuşadası, Turkey) who was active around 500 BCE. So it may be with all cigars.  As Nature is constantly changing, so are the flavors and essences of the tobacco leaves grown in whatever soil around the world. No man or woman has ever smoked the same cigar twice.  Tell that to the makers of today’s brands.  But shout it out to the consumer who ..read more

Simply put, I loathe the six-letter phrase, “taking it to the next level.”  In sales, it’s a euphemism for, “we want more.”  That’s only a three-letter phrase and more concise.  So why is the phrase, “taking it to the next level” used at all?  It’s a mind-bending tactic for the recipient of the idiomatic expression.  No one wants to appear greedy.  Though that’s exactly what a person means when the phrase is uttered. Donald Judd,“(is) one of the most significant (American) artists of the twentieth century. His radical ideas and work continue to provoke and influe ..read more

No matter how I tried to spin it intellectually, five days in a hospital room closing in on the end of the cigar-selling season is depressing.  Yes, I was there to heal, but the confinement was not my choice.  Time stops.  Lee Krasner’s biography just sits there.  Spiral notebooks remain unopened.  Small, plastic cups of apple juice remind me of urine samples.  There are no comfortable positions to lie down on the bed.  TV is indeed – a wasteland. Throughout my stay, I had no urge for a cigar.  None.  Pain can divert delightful desires.  Only ..read more

I’m smoking one of my first true Italian cigars made “exclusively from Nostrano del Brenta Tobacco, an air-cured leaf, which is fermented and aged and used as the trinity of all cigars –  wrapper, binder, and filler.   This three-pack of cigars was gifted to me by my son’s girlfriend who had just returned from Italy. The cigar?  Nostrano del Brenta’s – IL DOGE. Named after “the historic ruler of Venice, Casanova, the famous romantic lover.” And from the get-go, this type of cigar seemed to demand an acquired taste.  Its shape is a long and skinny cigar with a baby bum ..read more

What is it that we pass by every day that we don’t see?  It’s just ain’t gonna happen otherwise.   Walking Flo I noticed a natural phenomenon. We have to look. Listening to Barry, Robin, and Maurice. Finishing an Aganorsa Habano Validacion. Stop?  Should I? Yes. So I took the photo. Yes, I had my phone in my pocket. The screen is black otherwise. Until I happened upon what has been there for years. To please.  No.  To satisfy. No number two. But that’s okay because I could see it.  Clearly. Sharp and focused.  The cigar complemented the find.   ..read more

“Artists need to be loved she told an interviewer, ‘and to have rejection, silence, and indifference was very difficult.’”  “She” is painter Grace Hartigan, the abstract expressionist artist of the early 50s and beyond – being quoted in the book “Restless Ambition,” by Cathy Curtis. I was just into Chapter thirteen of the book when I first read that passage and it smacked my psyche like a padded mallet striking the calfskin surface of the tympani during the climax of Richard Strauss’s “Also Sprach Zarathustra” played at the beginning of “2001: A Space Odyssey.” Hey, that’s me!  Yep ..read more

Don’t worry about your future, mate.  It’s not worth the stress, strain, or sorrow.  Just do the best job you can do – despite the tincture of time.  Enjoy the days God has given you, and happiness will be your constant companion while you work toward what only you were chosen to accomplish in the limited heartbeats of time ..read more

Bells were stinging my eardrums.  People were moving about like zombies – aimless in their gates.  Lights were flashing almost to the point of making me dizzy, annoyed, and clutched.  I grabbed my orange plastic bag of candy, my cup of In ‘n Out pink lemonade mixed with Coke, and the cigar from the ashtray.  I walked away from the slot machine feeling, hearing, and noticing nothing after a decaying day at the cigar convention.  Where to now?  There’s no pathway on the gaming floor at The Flamingo.  I moved further from the slot machine.  Further.  ..read more

War Pigs!  I can’t get the tune out of my head.  Especially as Ozzie walks onto the stage with his usual, dark flair at this live performance, “How the fuck you doin’ out there tonight?  I can’t fuckin’ hear you!” (Sirens begin to blare.)  Blue light clashes with the high white beams crisscrossing each other producing an amalgam of invisible heavy metal sputum spurting out thousands of feet to the end of the venue, covering the frenzied audience as explosive scorching bright lava would splatter the land creating mounds of molten, gurgling liquid stone to harden into a mome ..read more