Stogie Commentary: Making Sense of the Hype
24 Mar 2008
If you’re on any cigar mailing lists, or receive any catalogs, you’ve no doubt heard the story: A master tobacco blender discovers a cache of leaves hidden in a dusty corner of his factory. Curious about this long-lost supply, he rolls some of it up and – surprise, surprise – decides that it’s basically the greatest thing he’s ever tasted.
Of all the silly narratives trotted out to hawk new cigar lines, this one seems to be popping up most frequently. If we are to believe it, then given the sheer number of “discoveries†made each month, cigar factories must be pretty shoddy operations – full of missing tobacco, abandoned buildings, and mismanaged supply chains.
It’s time to call BS on this myth. First of all, conditions in most cigar factories are heavily micromanaged. The idea that any supply of expensive, premium leaf – let alone enough to make 100,000 or more cigars – would go missing for a significant period of time is ludicrous. Second, methods for aging cigars are tightly monitored and rigorously controlled. If untouched, unsorted leaf in derelict shacks really matured better than tobacco under the normal aging process, what would be the point of that process? You get the idea. Placing this urban legend under even the slightest bit of scrutiny reveals its glaring implausibility.
What lesson can we learn from decoding the “treasure trove†myth and others like it? Quite simply, we realize that hype should not dictate our cigar purchases. Hype makes for some great reading material, but it should never inform significant investments in an already pricey hobby. Instead, we should buy cigars because we’ve done our homework. We’ve read reviews, scoured the message boards, boned up on the blogs, and solicited opinions from fellow enthusiasts.
Colorful ads are a sexy and enduring legacy of cigar culture. They will always be around, and we can always get a kick out of them. But we would do well to keep them in perspective – and so would our wallets. Until the day we happen upon a missing pile of perfectly aged, hand-rolled greenbacks in our basements, that is.
photo credit: Flickr