Dust swirls and dances all about,
A veil across the land,
And insects swarm your eyes and face,
And flee your swatting hand.
Cigars come in so many brands, sizes, shapes, tastes, and colors, and such widely ranging prices, that it can be hard to get your head around them. In an effort to understand the variety better, Frank Robertson compares them to something more familiar. But, counterintuitively, that something is women.
What man thinks comparing something to women makes the compared thing easier to understand? I raise that as someone who is approaching his 46th anniversary with the same wife. That said, the article is amusing, perhaps especially because of the comparison. Here’s a great example:
Why is it assumed that Cubans are the best? Cuban cigars can be thought of as a Swedish runway model. You know what I’m talking about, the one that you could live 10,000 lifetimes and you would still never have a chance! Simply, people want what they can’t have. And if you’re ever “lucky” enough to get one, it’s not long until you realize she’s over priced and over hyped – in fact, she’s crazy! Don’t misunderstand me, there are some good ones out there, but generally speaking…go with what you can readily get. It’s often a better experience.
We’ve all heard of gaggles of geese, herds of cattle, flocks of sheep, and probably murders of crows. But how many know that the correct term for any number of cats, one or more, is a “surfeit.” Or a “plague,” depending on the day.
Or so I think it should be. My wife has cats. I have irritations.
In a letter to his son Marcus preserved by Pliny, Cato forbade his child from ever seeking medical help from a professional doctor. According to Cato, professional medicine—overwhelmingly practiced by ethnic Greeks—was nothing less than a conspiracy to destroy Rome: “[Greek doctors] have sworn to kill all barbarians with medicine,” he wrote, “and they charge a fee for doing it, in order to be trusted and to work more easily.”
You need to see this scene (then watch the whole movie):
Among the things you’d rather not hear the oral surgeon say as he’s pulling on a tooth.
I used to maintain that I could not get my hair cut anywhere that didn’t have gun magazines on the rack and taxidermy on the wall. Regrettably, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a place, so I’ve had to relent. But there are degrees of relenting.
James Wigderson talks about a recent experience in a “hair salon”:
Into the chair I went when it was my turn, trying to watch the Louisville-Duke basketball game between the shampooing, the hot towel, and the neck massage. That’s when I noticed on the sign of services offered, “nose waxing, $5.”
It stays good. Read the whole thing.