“What is serious is that our society has lost its freedom.
But what is even more serious is that it has lost the very meaning of freedom.”
(Eric Dupond-Moretti, former French criminal lawyer and Minister of Justice)
Saturday, 21 September 2024 – New York, Manhattan, 156 West 56th St.: The Carnegie Club.
It is difficult to describe in words the magical pull this place has on me. Already during the flight, I find myself thinking about the cigars that will meet my hands, accompanied by an Old Fashioned. Always with rum. Always with ice.
Upon entering The Carnegie, you are immediately enveloped by its dark, mystical atmosphere. Old bookcases line several walls; the rest are draped in a red-and-black wallpaper that feels strangely familiar – just like the delightful aroma of fine puros.
You don’t need to be a member to experience The Carnegie. Only on Saturday evenings must one reserve in advance. Then, guests arrive in tailored suits or elegant evening gowns, some with hats, all in excellent spirits. For more than twenty years, Steven Maglio has performed Frank Sinatra’s repertoire at these soirées with remarkable mastery.
Sinatra himself – ever since the first notes of My Way found their way into my ears – has held me in his spell for decades. The jokes Steven tells are the same every week, yet the regulars still greet them with roaring laughter.
At the end of the evening, there is always a feeling of release, of freedom, of kinship. Global problems remain unsolved, but each guest leaves better able to put personal troubles into perspective. That too is a good start.
Vitality – Joie de vivre – Lebensfroh!
Our European continent still knows these words, but they are experienced less and less. European authorities have decided to expand the smoke-free regulations so that smoking on terraces or in cigar lounges will be prohibited. For once, Belgium wishes to play the diligent pupil and has resolved to ban all tobacco enjoyment, whether on a terrace or in a cigar club, as of 1 January 2027. The cigar as relic.
Europe wants to save our lungs – but what about oxygen for our souls?
When my son grows up, I will no longer be able to teach him the pleasure of smoking a fine cigar en public. My American connoisseurs who ask in Manhattan where they might find a European equivalent of The Carnegie must now be disappointed. Even in my favourite spots in Madrid, Paris or Prague, the delightful aromas will soon have vanished forever.
Yet an aficionado owes it to himself to face this challenge with fire. Where the man cave enjoyed a revival a few years ago, the refined household of tomorrow will feature a proper cigar room.
I contemplate mine with great satisfaction: a well-stocked humidor, bookcases filled with the great thinkers, Sinatra present at pleasant decibel levels, the walls adorned with red-and-black wallpaper.
The perfect surrogate – until I may once more open the gates of the time machine at 156 West 56th Street.
