David Weisenthal
It’s Only Cigars is an all-American story about truth, justice, and… every American’s right to smoke a Cuban. Cigar, that is… not kill one. It’s Only Cigars is a political satire that evokes the right to have the right to have a hundred Cubans. And to puff them too! It’s a narrative non-fiction saga about a trek through America’s legal jurisprudence system that leads the reader to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth behind the humor door with the federal court case U.S. vs. 100 Cuban Cigars… and reminds one of another Catch-22 fable. It’s also a tale about abuse. About how much money the government will spend; how many agents used; and, how much time wasted with preventing the common citizen from smoking a fine Cuban stoogie. Finally, it’s an anecdote about the myth behind ‘THE (Cuban) embargo.’ Why there is one; who really wants it or is against it; and, why it will remain long after Castro departs his perch.
David Weisenthal wasn’t born a storyteller, but became a ‘Fabler’ through travels in out-of-the-way locates. It’s Only Cigars is his 1st novel. Weisenthal’s adventures took him on a lifelong journey to many places most people only read about and his escapades are things that dreams come from. Presently, he is working on several yarns. Future books will include Havana Highway, a tale about being hijacked to Cuba in 1968 when he was 20 years old. The Cosmic Palace, is a trip down memory lane with stories about his hippie days of partying with The Dead and other stuff. And, Camp Fed, a Mash type comedy spoof about being exposed to the federal prison system. Weisenthal has worked for Chase Manhattan Bank as a financial analyst; dealt antiques; started several successful businesses; and, imported / exported products from all over the world (both legal and illegal). For his rogue exploits, he served some time in prison for conspiracy to possess pot. He has ‘retired’ numerous times… the last of which found him living the good-life down in Jamaica… where the tale It’s Only Cigars came to life! Now-a-days, he can usually be found at Gracie’s Restaurant, a quaint out-of-the-way carefully crafted café that’s just over a half-mile past the railroad tracks… and where most people come in through the back. Weisenthal can be reached at his website www.itsonlycigars.com or his e-mail HavanaDave@itsonlycigars.com.
The Shark
***
One week later, an official looking letter arrived from the government. There was a U.S. Dept. of Treasury seal on the envelope. It came in the mail - certified! Inside were six pages. All were type-formed and stapled. A cover letter was also enclosed. The cover letter said the six pages were the right that gave me the right to exercise my right to smoke those cigars.
I had two choices! If I were to do nothing, they’d be gone. History! Up in smoke! However, if I were to contest, to fight, argue or sue... then, first, I’d have to fill out all their forms. And I’d have to make sure that I answered everything… every question. Especially the unanswerable ones! Any mistake meant tilt… you lose! This was our game! If you wanted to play... you played by our rules.
My lawyer laughed at my story when I told him what happened. He said, “I told you Cubans were illegal, didn’t I? I have a good friend in Customs I can call. Let’s see how far the government is going to go with this. He will tell me what kind of trouble you’re in.”
I said, “But It’s Only Cigars!” And I showed him my passport.
“Yeah, OK, what else you got? I see where you’re going, but...” Then, I showed him the Know Before You Go pamphlet, opened to page six. He read it. “WHAT!?” He looked at me and asked, “Why would the government print this? What’s on page twenty?” And he quickly turned to page twenty to see what was printed there.
I said, “Been there, done that... and I’ve got several T-shirts to show for my troubles.”
He questioned what I was talking about as he turned the pages. I told him I did the same thing he was doing… that I had already looked at page twenty, more than several times, to see what it said about disclaimers, exemptions… and the like. I said, “You’ll find nothing... nothing on page twenty, page twenty-one or even page twenty-two.” By that time, he passed page twenty and had turned to page twenty-one... and he’d found nothing as I said he would. He kept reading and turned to page twenty-two as I spoke. He knew there had to be something, somewhere. So I told him to look at the bottom of page twenty-three.
The shark asked, “What?”
I said it again. “Turn to page twenty-three.”
He looked at the bottom of page twenty-three... and read the infor-mation! Then, he turned the page and read some more! Finally, he looked up and asked, “Is this all?” Very slowly, I nodded my head. He said, “I’m going to re-read everything... every word in both these books.”
I told him, “I already did that... approximately five hundred times, more or less. And, not satisfied with my own eyes, I had other people... a lot of other people... do the same thing.”
But all I heard him say was, “There must be something here we aren’t seeing... have overlooked.”
I told him, “I thought that too.”
The shark reached for the petition and said, “There must be!”
I said, “I thought that also. But, there wasn’t! And, there isn’t!”
He picked up his phone and dialed the number the cover letter gave to call if there were any questions. “Hi! Can I speak with...?” The shark was told the woman he asked for wasn’t in, but a lady named Beth who answered the phone said he could speak with her. He said, “My name is Stephen Shark. I have a client who thinks he’s a lawyer. Last week he entered the country and had some property confiscated.”
He was asked what property. I heard him answer, “Some cigars!” Then he said, “Yes, they were Cuban.” What seemed like a long Southern hour passed before he asked, “Does this happen often?”
The conversation lasted for the better part of twenty minutes. I heard him say that I read the literature, the government literature that said I was to rely on the literature I read. He said, “It indicated allowance of the activity done.” He also said that he read the literature and came to a similar conclusion as I had. Finally, he said, “Considering what was writ-ten, it wasn’t unreasonable to think what had been written was allowed.”
At some point the shark in my lawyer leaned back in his stuffed leather high-back chair and swiveled it back and forth. One hand cradled the phone nestled between his cheek and shoulder while his other hand was on top of his bolding head. His eyes were rotating in their sockets as he said, “Let me see if I have this correctly? The government literature doesn’t mean anything because what it says it means it really doesn’t mean!” I heard him say, “Well, I’m certainly going to advise my client he’s entitled to have his day in court.” The shark hung up the phone. “YOU BITCH,” he yelled into the phone as he set it down on his desk.
I asked him what they said and he said, “I mention cigars… they ask Cuban? I say yes... they mention your name. What happened last week at Customs?”
I told the shark the whole gruesome story. He just shook his head from side to side. The shark in my lawyer couldn’t believe it. I told him I wouldn’t have either had I not been there, done it myself. The kicker, I told him, was Andreas left America four days later... one and a half weeks sooner than he’d planned. He left because, as he said, if he hadn’t he would either have been arrested or shot. He’d only been in America for five short days, but he’d been hassled, stopped, and questioned on three separate and totally different occasions.
I finished telling my lawyer the story with Andreas being hassled for sightseeing in Fairmount Park! Andreas had never seen anything like it. Being from Germany, he’d spent time in the East before THE Wall came tumbling down… and he’d never seen that much police control. Andreas said he felt he had to flee, leave for his life... and escape with his freedom. But what would Andreas know about such things?
I continued with Andreas’ story about leaving to go back to Jamaica. I told the shark that before Andreas left he went to Customs and told them he was leaving. He asked for the return of his cigars. A Customs woman left him to get the papers he needed to sign. While he waited, he read the Customs Know Before You Go book for foreigners. It told him he could have Cuban cigars. When the female agent returned with the forms Andreas had to sign and lots of forms that he had to fill in all the blanks, Andreas asked why his cigars had been confiscated. She told him they’re contraband.
He told her the book said he could have them. Then, he showed her the book. She looked at the book. She said it was in German… and she couldn’t read German.
“Not a problem,” Andreas said. He turned the page. It was in English.
She read their words. Then she looked at him and said, “This is an old book. The law has changed.”
Andreas asked when the law had changed.
She answered, “1994!”
Andreas said, “But this is 1997!” He asked, “Why do you have this book if it is no good for three years?” Under the circumstances he thought he was asking a reasonable question.
She responded, “We haven’t had time to change it yet.”
Andreas was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. All that came out of his mouth was, “The East German government collapsed ONLY three years ago. I don’t understand how it got here so quickly?”
