Cigars:  on Indian reservations they call tobacco the red man’s revenge.  And yet ironically, my Choctaw Grandmother died from causes probably related to smoking cigarettes.  My daddy smoked cigars and pipes until the mid ’70’s when I showed him the PSAs that smoking can cause lung cancer.  I was the only kid in Kindergarten with a King Edward’s cigar box as a pencil box.  And yet as an adult I confess a love for cigars.  They are a treat to be savored, versus a daily indulgence.  I have gone from Churchills to robusotos though so I have reduced my smoking length considerably.  I do not want to write too much to glorify them; I’m just saying … one every now and then I think is OK.  Abraham Lincoln once said, “It has been my experience that folks who have no vices, have very few virtues.”  I am refraining from indulging after this post.  My next cigar will probably be New Year’s Eve.  Until then I have my little humidor and when I open it, for an instant, the years slip away and I am back sitting on my daddy’s lap.  His hands were so huge and so red.  I can still remember the heavenly smell of his tobacco.  And for a single split second I have him back.