The time to act is now

Yesterday I had the pleasure of meeting with the staff of our Delaware Senators and Congressman, and must say I believe they left our meetings with a much clearer idea of the broad scope of potential impacts on our little community of cigar smokers should the FDA pursue its current proposals in regulating premium cigars.

Today I'd like to bring you up to speed on what you must do in order to reinforce their understanding of this issue.

First, understand that the reason premium cigars are being considered for FDA regulation is not so much because we're the bad actors in the tobacco business, but rather because the bad actors have chosen to deliberately modify their products and packaging to allow themselves into a category of products traditionally reserved for premium cigars.

What we're faced with are a number of problems, any of which would effectively change the entire nature of your relationship with your tobacconist, and would collectively turn the cigars we so love into little more than a numbered and itemized commodity.

Under the current regulatory proposal there would be no more access for consumers to walk in humidors. You would simply approach a clerk, look through an available catalog of items, none of which you would be allowed to see, touch, or smell in advance of purchase, and order from the menu. Think fast food drive in window.

What this would mean economically is that the people you've come to rely on for advice and suggestions about cigars would become extinct. They would be replaced with a minimum wage order taker. I don't know about you but I think there's great value to the consumer in being able to peruse products and have an educational discussion about them.

We all love those hard to find limited release cigars which are crafted from exquisite and carefully selected tobaccos available in only small quantities. Folks, those would totally disappear. The proposed regulatory scheme would impose the same scientific testing burdens on a manufacturer making a 100 box limited release as are imposed on mass market manufacturers cranking out a  million boxes a year. You wanna pay $100 or more a stick for limited releases? That's probably what would happen.

In all the time cigars have been manufactured one of the most endearing and beloved aspects of their creation has been the art of the bands and boxes. Scratch that. Black and white with huge warning labels and graphic images just like those proposed for cigarette packaging. That's what we'll end up with.

I could go on a great length, but I'm sure by now you get the picture.

One of the great things about the technological advancements we've seen in the last few decades is that it makes it easy for us to have online petition drives and form letter campaigns.  Guess what? It doesn't work. A box full of computer generated signatures counts no more than the single weeping member of the opposition. It's a single item of input.

If you want to save this industry we all know, love, and are passionate about YOU must act INDIVIDUALLY. Make that call. Send that letter. Send that email. Do your own thing and stop being a member of the complacent and compliant herd that lets "those in leadership" handle the issue for you.

Call, write, or email your own personal United States Senators and Representatives and don't ask, DEMAND, that they sign on board as cosponsors of S1461 or HR 1639 as appropriate. It's common sense, easily understood legislation that strips away FDA authority to regulate us like we're cigarettes.

Don't do this, and I don't want to hear a a word from your whiny, pathetic butt when the feces hits the oscillating blades.

Let's be honest...

It's about money. It's about jobs. It is not about the greater public good, and it doesn't have a damned thing to do with children. I'm talking about tobacco taxes as applied to premium cigars.

All across the country, every day, honest hard-working Americans go to work in a tiny little segment of the tobacco industry and sell premium cigars. We are the true tobacconists. The ones with passion. We possess a breadth and depth of knowledge that is born of the love of what we do. We enroll in educational classes. We travel to cigar factories to further our knowledge and understanding. Of course we do it to make money too, and there's not a thing wrong with that.

We don't sell glass pipes for pot smokers and pretend they're something else. We don't sell "bath salts" and pretend anyone is going to actually bathe with them.  We don't deliberately design packaging to be attractive to minors. We sell hand-rolled cigars that are enjoyed by adults, and frankly are not well suited to the purpose many machine made cigars are put to.

Get off my back. Get out of my pocket.

I watch in amazement as advocacy groups time and again testify in favor of massive increases in tobacco taxes, including those on hand made premium cigars, in the name of public health and protecting children. They know when they go into those hearing rooms with their dog and pony shows that they are marketing to pathos, so they show the legislators a whole array of brightly colored objects to make their point, just as they did last week in Maryland. You know what was missing? Premium cigars.

Okay. I get it. There are products on the market that probably are attractive to minors, even if not deliberately designed to be so, or even perhaps so designed. There may well be products that can have terrible health consequences, but I don't use them, so I wouldn't know. But what I do know is this; premium hand rolled cigars aren't it.  I also accept that increasing taxes on products that are most attractive to youth or pose significant public health risks may make some sense from a policy perspective.

So my question is this, if you can't prove the point that the products I manufacture and sell are as inherently "evil" and harmful as the ones you're actually willing to hand around that big mahogany table why do you lump them in with them? I can really think of only two likely reasons; Either you're actually ignorant of the difference, or just after the money, and my belief is it's the latter. In my mind that makes about as much sense as taxing pet owners to subsidize the capture of dangerous escapees from the zoo.

I sat in stunned amazement in a legislative hearing last year and a committee member asked the following question: (I'm paraphrasing) Why, if premium cigars don't pose the same health threats and societal risks as the products actually shown, did the sponsors and advocates want them to be so highly taxed? The answer from one of the sponsors was (again paraphrasing) that the people who can afford to buy expensive cigars can afford to pay the tax. The advocacy group representative did not speak to the issue, but did nod her head in silent agreement. There you have it. It's about the money.

If an automobile manufacturer creates an inherently unsafe car it gets recalled, but we don't recall every car in the country. That's just good common sense. The same logic should be applied to the regulation and taxation of tobacco products.

Even some life insurance companies now offer lower life insurance rates to premium cigar smokers than they do to other tobacco users, and they're in the insurance business to make money. They wouldn't do this if they didn't clearly understand that there is a significant difference between premium cigars and other tobacco products.

Let's be honest. I'll admit to you that I'm in the premium cigar segment of the tobacco business not only because I love this tiny little industry and the people in it, but also to make money. In exchange, why don't you openly admit to me that you haven't a shred of evidence to prove that premium hand rolled cigars pose the same risks as the other products you've declared your enemy, and that you're just advocating the taxation of them for the money.  Seems fair, don't you think?

So here's a thought. I propose there be a five dollar surcharge on every 12 ounces of any form of liquid consumed by any employee or representative of any advocacy group at any time any state or federal legislature is in session. Oh I know that the consumption of bottled water isn't harming anyone, but some of you just might drink alcohol, and if you do someone might get hurt. There's a societal cost there, and after all they're all liquids so they're all the same, right? This money will be used to subsidize the payrolls of any industry that is impacted by your advocacy, because after all, highly paid lobbyists and well funded advocacy groups can afford it.  This would obviously impact those of us who advocate on behalf of the premium cigar industry, but that's just fine, I don't mind paying the price of looking out for my own interests out of my own pocket. Nor should anyone else.

Just my thoughts on the issue.

And Promises To Keep

I awoke early again this morning, as has been my habit far too often of late, and in stepping out onto the patio was bathed in the glow of a glorious full moon, set against the backdrop of a cloudless, starry sky. In that moment it struck me that over these last several years all my life-changing moments have occurred at the time when the moon was brightest. Certainly the scientist in me sees this as little more than coincidence, but still, it gives me pause to reflect.

Years ago, in the depths of an illness that so physically and emotionally drained me I had all but given up hope, I made my first trip to Nicaragua and met A.J. Fernandez. In the instant after he praised my knowledge and passion for the cigar industry, my mind racing in anticipation of the future, I chose to fight, and live, and to craft the very best cigars I could. On the flight home, gazing at the full moon out the window of the airplane, I promised myself that I would never let this dream die. And I never will.

As time passed, and I began building the blends and fleshing out the concepts that would later give rise to the brand now known as Emilio Cigars, I neglected much in my obsession with this project. Consumed by my passion I arose early one Sunday morning, and in the light of a full moon drove to my office. Mid morning, my work complete, I returned home to discover that this lack of balance had cost me the love of my life, and promised myself that in future I would be more careful with what is precious.

Two years ago, as we were preparing for our first cigar releases, I was involved in a terrible accident, and stood in the middle of the road staring up again at the full moon. That was my moment of epiphany. It was driven home to me in a tragic way that I had jeopardized not only myself, but the welfare of those to whom I had promised much, and vowed to never again break those pacts.

This morning as I sit reflecting on how far we've come, and on the additional promises I've made, I commit myself again to keeping them.

My promise to our retailers and staff is that we will be the very best we can be for you, within the limits of what we can accomplish as a small manufacturer.  But your expectations must be realistic as well. We cannot give what we have yet to possess, and we cannot be all things to everyone. We must simply be the very best we can.

My promise to my children is that I will find time for that balance, giving you all the love and care that is in me, with the understanding that in all the chaos that is life that may not always be at the time and place when it best suits you. Still, I promise my best.

My promise to those few dear friends who have seen me through these years of turmoil and triumph is that I will never, never abandon or neglect you. I will accept you as you are and allow you to grow, and blossom, and support you in all the ways I have pledged. I will also do my best to guide you, and protect you from losing that careful balance that will bring you a happy and fulfilling life in the long run. I will lift you when you fall, cheer you when you succeed, and patiently wait for you to keep your own promises.

And now to work, for I have promises to keep, the moon is full, and I can feel the tide of change welling up within me.