Irv CigarBroker Manages Being Out Of Control.

Today Miles, E, and I installed my new! Heavy bag from Ringside®️ in the garage.  It wasn’t easy.  The bag weighs 100 pounds and comes with an ultra-durable Powerhide®️ covering.  When it was dropped off by FedEx, (ha!) the box was in a shambles.  (It was in a cardboard box that would have fit my Uncle Matt.)  Luckily, the bag itself was pristine, unscratched, and defect-free. 

We decided to hang it with an Outslayer®️ Professional Full Velcro®️ strap capable of holding 550 pounds.  Safe.  It’s as gorgeous as a strap can be.  Max?

Ok, the backstory.  Despite the pablum you’ve been fed, being a Cigar Broker is one of the hardest jobs on the planet.  It’s sales.  Enough said.  Stress wells up in you over the years and if you haven’t a release valve, the pressure inevitably builds up and is released in a variety of ways, some including:

Exhaustion or trouble sleeping.

Headaches, dizziness, or shaking.

High blood pressure.

Muscle tension or jaw clenching.

Stomach or digestive problems.

Trouble having sex.

Weak immune system.

Stress can also lead to emotional and mental symptoms like:

Anxiety or irritability.

Depression.

Panic attacks.

Sadness. (Cleveland Clinic)

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So much for the romance (you know – swaying green fields of silken tobacco, etc.) But if you have a passion for cigars and an insatiable entrepreneurial spirit – you figure it out.  You have to. 

How?  I usually write.  But lately, with COVID, and dealing with those who think it’s a joke – I needed a bit more relief.  No.  Strike that . . . I needed a whole lot more relief.  Or quit.  And I ain’t no quitter.

The seed?  On Easter Sunday, E and I gave Miles a pair of Everlast®️ 14 ounce boxing gloves – blazing red.  They looked great.  He exercises at work on the company’s heavy bag.  So naturally, I tried the gloves on and I felt an instant spasm of excitement.

Three weeks later, I have a bag, a strap, and a pair of leather gloves (black, 16oz.) – and a zeal to start punching.  So this past Saturday we set it all up in the garage and the end result is a chilling orgasm of being out of control.

Take that, and that, and . . .  THAT . . .  and . . . that. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

True cigar lovers do not need punctuation to get this.

Comparing why I like a particular cigar to my inability to fully understand the plot of a movie can have its pinnacle in the idea of mysterious thought of how a particular film confuses me or how a specific brand of cigar draws me to it repeatedly by trying to comprehend what that magnetic attraction is – is thereby creating a silent void that genuinely pulls me into trying to figure it out (such as the palindrome “Hannah” which is the same be it spelled backward or forward – or how did it become what it is?) grabs me even tighter to try and untangle the reality of such a phenomenon such as the unexplainable essence if I may call it that of a blend because it is hardly attainable through the normal course of trusting the senses or intellect to battan down the actual reason it is unsolvable and not wanting to let go or give up on its baffling existence that will not or cannot penetrate my psyche or my awareness to answer the conundrum (which in and of itself is a polymorphous predicament) with a logical and satisfying resolution because despite the voluminous varieties of brands available – and the sheer number of ideas that can twist and turn a plot into an extreme existential experience that there really is no definitive conclusion as to why one movie is impossible to make sense or why the description of a brand’s piquancy is hopelessly stuck in ambered limbo i.e.my raison d’être to confidently compare the two.