Every once in a while, somebody here posts about the ideal of tobacco exclusivity.
I get it. Many of us hold in our minds the image of some old timer, remembered endearingly for always smoking a particular tobacco. There's a certain nostalgia attached to this image, and a certain regret (in some of us) that we'll never be that guy.
Now I know that many of you don't share this nostalgia. "Variety is the spice of life" has been your motto, and you've never felt wistfulness in this direction. That's fine.
But for my part, I have sometimes felt this wistfulness. I've wished that I represented something simpler and more rooted -- less influenced by the consumptive mode of a luxurious society.
But I'm re-thinking that (on this point), and here are three reasons --
(1) Like so many other things that we wax nostalgic about, the historic reality had everything to do with real-world limitations. There weren't many tobaccos available, and a guy picked the one he liked best. If we chose to impose limitations on ourselves (which of course could be a healthy spiritual discipline), we'd be doing something different than the historical reality we're talking about.
(2) What else do we feel this way about?
"Old Uncle Ernie only ever ate hot dogs. Literally. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, for 80 years -- nothing besides hot dogs ever passed his lips. What a rooted fellow. Those were the good-ol'-days when a man was content with one thing."
No, that would be weird.
We don't feel this way about food or drink or anything else -- why tobacco?
(3) Nostalgia attaches to an image, and it's surprising how quickly and easily it shifts when the image shifts. The hipster wants tweed and a carefully waxed mustache on Monday, but he wants plaid flannel and an unkempt beard on Tuesday, because the period-from-which-he-feels-alienated-du-jour has shifted. Likewise, if we think of 1950s grandpa smoking that one tobacco from that one Dr. Grabow, we wonder whether we should settle down to one tobacco, too. But think instead of hobbits. Do you imagine that most hobbits are rigid loyalists to Longbottom Leaf or Old Toby or Southern Star, exclusively? No. Hobbits are fond of nice things, and of variety in colorful waistcoats, and of smorgasbords at parties, etc. I imagine that their eyes might grow wide in wonder and delight at the variety in our tobacco cellars!
I get it. Many of us hold in our minds the image of some old timer, remembered endearingly for always smoking a particular tobacco. There's a certain nostalgia attached to this image, and a certain regret (in some of us) that we'll never be that guy.
Now I know that many of you don't share this nostalgia. "Variety is the spice of life" has been your motto, and you've never felt wistfulness in this direction. That's fine.
But for my part, I have sometimes felt this wistfulness. I've wished that I represented something simpler and more rooted -- less influenced by the consumptive mode of a luxurious society.
But I'm re-thinking that (on this point), and here are three reasons --
(1) Like so many other things that we wax nostalgic about, the historic reality had everything to do with real-world limitations. There weren't many tobaccos available, and a guy picked the one he liked best. If we chose to impose limitations on ourselves (which of course could be a healthy spiritual discipline), we'd be doing something different than the historical reality we're talking about.
(2) What else do we feel this way about?
"Old Uncle Ernie only ever ate hot dogs. Literally. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, for 80 years -- nothing besides hot dogs ever passed his lips. What a rooted fellow. Those were the good-ol'-days when a man was content with one thing."
No, that would be weird.
We don't feel this way about food or drink or anything else -- why tobacco?
(3) Nostalgia attaches to an image, and it's surprising how quickly and easily it shifts when the image shifts. The hipster wants tweed and a carefully waxed mustache on Monday, but he wants plaid flannel and an unkempt beard on Tuesday, because the period-from-which-he-feels-alienated-du-jour has shifted. Likewise, if we think of 1950s grandpa smoking that one tobacco from that one Dr. Grabow, we wonder whether we should settle down to one tobacco, too. But think instead of hobbits. Do you imagine that most hobbits are rigid loyalists to Longbottom Leaf or Old Toby or Southern Star, exclusively? No. Hobbits are fond of nice things, and of variety in colorful waistcoats, and of smorgasbords at parties, etc. I imagine that their eyes might grow wide in wonder and delight at the variety in our tobacco cellars!