It’s funny what you think of your parents’ anniversary. My dad smoked Lucky Strikes in the military and kept smoking those when they married. Then, my mom talked him into cigars, so he started smoking Murial cigars. In the 50s, they were a nickel, even though the box here shows a dime (give Edie Adams for her alluring wink after, “Why don’t you pick one up and smoke it sometime.” Does rhyme with dime.)
But since my mom worked for her parents at their bar, she’d bring home El Producto cigars on special occasions—and I’m not sure what those would be. They were a whopping 12 1/2 cents a cigar, two for a quarter. She’d probably bring home a large tin like the one shown for his birthday. What’s the difference between a nickel and a 12-1/2-cent cigar? I have no clue.
I remember that he always appreciated her for doing it and was surprised because she had never smoked in her life and hated it. In love, you make concessions and compromise. He gave up his Lucky Strikes, went to occasional cigars, and finally stopped smoking. Although, as an aside, she died of cancer, he didn’t.
Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad! Wish you were here so we could share it together!
