If you put me on a desert island and said I could have only one of the following three things–television, books, or music–the choice would be quick and easy for me.

Music is life’s blood to me. It moves me, it inspires me, it makes me feel, and it makes me think. We don’t watch much TV in our household, but whenever we do, it’s more of a numbing agent than anything else. Books? Put it this way–I’ve been reading Keith Richards‘ autobiography for almost a year now and I’m nowhere near done. I don’t find much time to read and I think I might have ADD.

On the other hand, music is constantly around me. It’s always on in our home, on my laptop in our office, and almost always in my car. Music can take me to a far and distant place in my mind where I can write my own book, create my own film in my mind, and it often inspires me to create. For me, the cocktail of lyric and melody is beyond intoxicating; it’s mesmerizing and transforming.

By now, it’s no secret that ‘Four Kicks‘ was musically inspired (you can find the back story on our website and it’s been well-chronicled by several cigar bloggers online, as well). The current cigar project we’re working on also has its roots in music. The blend style planted its seeds in my mind’s soil some six months ago while I was listening to a particular song; to be more specific, when I was listening to one instrument in that song–over, and over, and over (yeah, I’m not too popular around my office at times).

We grow old–there is no choice in the matter. Whether you live a good lifestyle or a not-so-good one, we all grow old. But music–good music–never gets old. It’s timeless, it transcends generations, and it lives on and on. A well-crafted song is like a well-blended cigar. It has a ‘hook,’ but beyond that, it tells a story. It has an opening, a middle, and a conclusion to that story; it has an evolution. Listen to Ravel’s “Bolero;” it opens gently with a delicate drum cadence and slowly builds with layers of flutes, piccolos, and oboes…building and building….getting heavier and heavier….louder and louder…until the full orchestra culminates in a crashing crescendo of sound that is passionate, bold, and unforgettable. Listen to Led Zeppelin’s “Over The Hills and Far Away.” It begins only with Jimmy Page’s acoustic guitar…it lulls you into a sense of serenity; then the tempo picks up oh-so-slightly as Plant’s “Hey Lady….you got the love I need…,” enters the room. In a matter of moments, it’s full-blown-plugged-in-Zeppelin with Plant’s screeching vocals….taking you on a ride before it slowly and gently lets you off….the song resolving and concluding with a gentle, singular note.

The cigars I’ve smoked that stand out in my memory were balanced–one note didn’t taste ‘louder’ than the others–complex (symphonic marriage of flavors), and had an evolution of flavors. They told a story. Other cigars I’ve had that weren’t so memorable, were largely ‘one-note’ and, often times, the flavors were muddled and the components were most likely ‘out of tune.’

I suppose living in Nashville, aka “Music City,” doesn’t hurt; everywhere you go there is music. Walk into any dive bar with live music on any given night, and I promise you that your chances are good you’ll walk away saying, “Wow–I can’t believe they’re (insert band/singer-songwriter here) not signed to a record deal!?” They don’t put fluoride in the water here–they put melody in it. Our office walls don’t have photos of tobacco fields on them–they have life-size black & white portraits of Johnny Cash, Gatemouth Brown, John Lee Hooker, Roger McGuinn, and Sam Phillips on them. Would there be a ‘Four Kicks‘ if I didn’t live in Nashville? Maybe–maybe not. Since I’m a big believer in destiny, I’ll go with the latter. I owe a lot to Music City: my livelihood, my home, friends, and (most importantly) my beautiful bride and son. In every way, my inspiration lives here; so, thank you, Music City.

I’m hopeful that the blend we’re working on now will live up to its musical inspiration. Ultimately, I want this cigar to taste on my palate the same way this piece of music sounds to my ears. Maybe that sounds obscure and esoteric, but in the end, YOU will be the judge of that next year.