When I was at Purdue, a millennia ago, every Friday was ‘Hat -n- Cigar Day’ in the marching band. I know, I know...the marching band is a bunch of pansies tap dancing around an otherwise manly football field, making noise and keeping the game from starting. But this was a really big, special, and talented group that was obviously cool enough to peer pressure us into seeking out the biggest, knarliest stogies you could find in the area. The obvious location was the union. Yep! The 80s did still have a little cool going on...except the upper class men emptied that place of the gran Coronas (the emphasis was on big). Had to take to the back roads of rural indiana and buy whatever was available from the gas stations. In retrospect, it was wonderful and horrible at the same time! Then we lit them up at Friday’s practice, donned our hats and polished our routine. Ah, to be young with 100% lung capacity and no regard for asthma. Today, I mostly watch, drink the scotch, and enjoy the smells from a slight distance. The last time I had a fantastic cigar was with Ang, iahawk, and many of my guitar buddies and it ended with a migraine. So I embrace my weenie-dom and let you guys have the fun.
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