First Cigar Ever, Didn't Really Count

My very first cigar ever was actually one I tried at the age of 13, sneaking off with my cousin Mike to my grandfather's barn in rural Pennsylvania, circa 1974. It was an old red barn built at the turn of the century, with hay stewn along the wooden floor and dust motes floating through the air, made visible by sunlight streaming through cracks in the wallboards. I didn't know that Mike had taken me here to smoke. He pulled out a thick stubby cigar, which he had stolen from his father, and proceeded to light it. He handed it to me, said "don't inhale," and watched me fall into a fit of coughing.

I would have to describe that cigar, a robusto of some sort, as strawy and dry, with brusque overtones of seed and grass. Looking back, I'd give it a Cigar Aficionado rating of 79, taking into account that it probably hadn't seen the inside of a humidor for weeks.

So, my first Robusto. After coming to our senses and realizing the barn was a hay-filled tinderbox, we crushed out the cigar, threw some bubble gum into our mouths and moved down to the ground level to check out the cows. Mike proceeded to demonstrate that a cow will lick just about anything you put near its mouth, but the details of that event don't belong here or on any self-respecting blog. Suffice it to say, I kept Mike away from my little sister in our subsequent visits to the hinterlands of Pennsylvania.