Fotos/Getty Images---------------------
He loved to talk about tobacco before, during and after lunch. How it was farmed. How it grew. How it was cured. And he loved smoking and talking about how particular cigars smoked. I learned so much from him about everything that had to do with tobacco and cigars. He always said that tobacco was like a beautiful woman. “If you didn’t treat it gently, with love and care, you would ruin her.”
He used to always show me his prized possession—a mechanical gramophone. He used to play some vinyl records from the 1940s and 1950s, such as Benny Moré or other Cuban musicians from the period. A scratchy, muffled sound came from the mechanical record player’s funnel-like speaker. “They don’t make them like this anymore,” he would sweetly say.
Once in a while, I would stay overnight and we would talk into the late hours of the night smoking cigars and drinking Havana Club seven-year-old rum. The combination of the slightly warm rum and fascinating conversation would warm my soul. I feel good now writing about it. There were no lights outside on the porch, so we sat in the dark and talked with the moon dimly lighting our faces. We almost whispered as not to interrupt the music of the crickets and other sounds of the country night. (read full text)
---------------------------------------
read more about Alejandro Robaina:
No comments:
Post a Comment