Penultimate Dilemma

[Rehman]

IN a corner of the humidor were two Cohiba Siglo VIes from a 2005 box of 25; back from when they were rolled with flat butts. They were no longer lion-tawny as they had been when the box lid first slid open. They had acquired the look and colour of burnished mahogany.

The other 23 had gone long before, of course. These two had survived because of the Last-Two Conundrum: When down to the last two of an old batch of great cigars, the math indicates that smoking one would leave just one. Which means, regardless of what the second-last one was like, the last could never be smoked.

For if the penultimate cigar is as good as its predecessors had promised over the preceding years, how much better would the last one be with even more time on it? Conversely, if it turns out to have wilted from waiting too long (as can happen to the best of us) the last one could turn out as sadly or worse.

Years may pass mulling this dilemma. And so the last two Cohibas of that 2005 vintage had lain quietly undisturbed in the humidor for five years until last week, when I decided I'd had quite enough of this foolishness and lit one.

Over the next two hours -- otherwise alone and silent on my balcony as the brief twilight of what had been a broiling-hot day faded into a sultry night of fitful breezes -- I learned that the finest cigar experiences are utterly unique and absolutely unrepeatable.

Not if I smoked every Siglo VI El Laguito produced, not if I bought the entire industry and smoked that too, could there be another cigar like this one.

Yes, Virginia, there is such a thing as "marriage" among cigars stored together for a long time. But no, it is not a bad thing. What these special creatures offer you is entirely your own -- they have absorbed enough of you in the essences of the other cigars you have cared to acquire and store with them.

Here I confess again to my utter inability to describe a cigar's flavours and aromas as experts do. I might venture analogies in the smell of an ocean or a jungle, or I might suggest music -- orchestral, jazz, rock, you catch my drift.

On the rarest occasions, however, the experience is purely emotional. A Padron once evoked an exquisite melancholy; a Por Larranaga, somewhat disconcertingly, adolescent love. For this Cohiba, it was... astonishment and wonder.

It was precisely a Cohiba Siglo VI, but it was different; softer, gentler, fuller, deeper, wider and more resonant; it was embracing, it was... the word I'm groping for emerges as: wise.

There's one left. Sitting in its corner of my humidor, looking like polished mahogany, the yellow of its band a little faded and blemished by what lies beneath. When it's gone, there will never be another. Ever. Until the end of time.

Which is why I rather fear that's how long it will sit there.

[Posted on Aizuddin Danian's MyCigarBlog]

[brutusthebuckeye]

Thats deep Bro!!!!

Great read and i understand.....

[adic88]

Grr. That was awesome.

[MIKA27]

True Poetry Rehman...

[dicko]

Fantastic post.

[Sefton]

Tremendous write up. Your emotions shared were indeed received. Thank you.

[CanuckSARTech]

Beautifully wrote, and well imagined - you painted a lovely picture of what's a common perplexion for some of us. The pessimist in me says leave the last, what if it's a dud, there will be no more just like this one, etc., etc., very similarly to what you wrote. Your piece was a fine capturing of that side of the argument.

Unfortunately, the sadist optimist in me usually wins out. He says, "...screw it, dumbass, it's just a cigar - there'll be more."

Thanks for sharing. Cheers.

[investandprosper]

Beautifully wrote, and well imagined - you painted a lovely picture of what's a common perplexion for some of us. The pessimist in me says leave the last, what if it's a dud, there will be no more just like this one, etc., etc., very similarly to what you wrote. Your piece was a fine capturing of that side of the argument.

Unfortunately, the sadist optimist in me usually wins out. He says, "...screw it, dumbass, it's just a cigar - there'll be more."

Thanks for sharing. Cheers.

Haha, I'm the same way. The only reason I save a cigar is if I have two, and I want to smoke it with a bruddah.

[anacostiakat]

Fantastic and enjoyable read. It is a gift to be able to catch in print your musings.

[mbrody]

Well done! Now I know why I have a hard time finishing a great box!

[Colt45]

Personally I'd smoke the last one knowing, in my mind, that the last could neither taint nor enhance the memory of the penultimate -

it would provide it's own unique story. I think I'd rather a cherished memory than a nagging temptation.

Thanks for the great tale.

[Rehman]

Personally I'd smoke the last one knowing, in my mind, that the last could neither taint nor enhance the memory of the penultimate -

it would provide it's own unique story. I think I'd rather a cherished memory than a nagging temptation.

How nicely said! Thank you. And thank you all for your kind responses. Colt, Canuck, you know you're right. To paraphrase both Sigmund Freud and Jimi Hendrix on my way to the humidor: "'Scuse me, while I kiss this guy..."

[MontrealRon]

Beautiful story, Rehman.

You have perfectly captured the consume/conserve dialectic

that confounds so many of us, so often.

It's true; the last few cigars from a great box are so hard to let go.

But still, 2005's?

Barely ready to smoke.

They should hit their stride in another three or four years.

Hold on to that last one, brother...

[PigFish]

Nice prose mate. I enjoyed the reading. I thought for a moment that Hemingway had joined the board! -Piggy

[ajgagnon]

Lovely words. I'm sure we can all relate in our own way to this feeling you've described.

I feel your pain. In fact, as soon as I get down to three of any kind, I start to play mental games. Three is a good number for a small get-together and great conversation. But I could still smoke one and have two... say for sharing with my father.

Whenever I get down to two, I'm stuck at a stalemate. I can't light one without company, and I don't want to see my precious variety of smokes diminished... until one day the sun comes out and I take the dogs out to the park in the sunshine, even if it's -20*C and no cigar has any business in such an inhospitable climate... on those days I can break my pairs.

Thanks for bringing this up. I thought I had OCD, but I think it's deeper... something related to reverence or superstition. In any case, great post!

[El Presidente]

Lovely read

I treat the last cigar of a great box as a wake...a happy time to remember the 24 experiences prior and celebrate the uniqueness of the last of its tribe. It is rare that any two cigars can deliver the same utility. Often it is not solely due to the individuality/variability of the cigars themselves but the changes to the situation you find yourself; state of mind, environment, etc.

When down to the last of a great box I make the final cigar one promise only and that is to ensure I have taken care of the latter in order to provide it every opportunity for it to reveal its magnificence.

[PigFish]

Lovely read

I treat the last cigar of a great box as a wake...a happy time to remember the 24 experiences prior and celebrate the uniqueness of the last of its tribe. It is rare that any two cigars can deliver the same utility. Often it is not solely due to the individuality/variability of the cigars themselves but the changes to the situation you find yourself; state of mind, environment, etc.

When down to the last of a great box I make the final cigar one promise only and that is to ensure I have taken care of the latter in order to provide it every opportunity for it to reveal its magnificence.

Nicely put as well my friend! Cheers. -Piggy

[mash]

Personally I'd smoke the last one knowing, in my mind, that the last could neither taint nor enhance the memory of the penultimate -

it would provide it's own unique story. I think I'd rather a cherished memory than a nagging temptation.

Thanks for the great tale.

What a great phrase. Have to smoke that last one sometime.

[BonVivant]

Beautiful story and, please, correct me, if I am wrong.

Kaiser Wilhelm was believed to say, that the most prized cigar that he had was the last one, without any hope for re-placement.

My rule is to always give away my last cigar from a particular box, as a gift - some folks had not been as lucky, as some of us.

[jackohalloran]

Great read

Thank you for sharing with us.

[ZinZan]

Great one, Rehman.

[adic88]

Beautiful story and, please, correct me, if I am wrong.

Kaiser Wilhelm was believed to say, that the most prized cigar that he had was the last one, without any hope for re-placement.

My rule is to always give away my last cigar from a particular box, as a gift - some folks had not been as lucky, as some of us.

I've done that more times than actually smoking the last stick from a box!

Gifted Rehman a last stick from a RyJ Ex #4 and HDM Epi #2 from 2000 boxes for his birthday!