I’ve always been fascinated by smoke. Whether from a campfire, the censer at mass, or curling from a warm pipe (as in the classic tobacco pipe and not some monstrous, abstract glass leviathan that lurks in the back room of some “head shop”). The slow rise into the air transforms the typical quick mental state […]

by John Goerke My mother, so it seems, has no one to blame but herself for planting the seeds that have grown into my love for cigars. My youth was not spent in their presence, not did she ever speak to me of their virtues. But she did, on more than one occasion, present to […]