The Slow Burn: Closing the Gap

Ira Glas says that, “It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap [between taste and skill], and your work will be as good as your ambitions.”

If being a musician for 32 years has taught me anything, it’s this: to learn, you must do.

Like playing drums night after night in a half-empty bar, rehearsing licks until your fingers bleed, or figuring out how to play in time but stay on the back of the “one” deep in the pocket. There are no shortcuts in developing skill. No textbooks for instinct.

You have to put in the reps. Trial and error. Pain as a motivator. Experience as the teacher.

Cigars are no different.

Blending cigars is about the grind. You don’t get it right the first time. You don’t always get it right the tenth time. But you keep at it, because your taste, your vision, demands that you close the gap.

That’s the fight. The tension between what you imagine and what you can execute. And while I do not come from a lineage of master blenders, buncheros, or torcederos, I understand what it’s like to put yourself in the arena, knowing your work won’t live up to your own taste...yet. However, I understand that the only way forward is to keep doing the work.

Brolo is my fight through the gap. It’s the art of honoring tradition without being enslaved to it. It’s heritage rewritten for people who love the craft but aren’t interested in shortcuts, gimmicks, or hollow status.

The beauty of creative work, whether it’s music or cigars, is that it creates connection. Songs move people. Cigars bring them together. Both are slow burns, meant to be savored, meant to reveal layers.

And just like Ira Glass said...most people quit before their work has a chance to catch up with their taste. But those who stay? Those who fight through? They build something that matters.

That’s what Brolo is about. Not instant gratification. Not fast fashion for the humidor. Brolo is the slow burn. The long road. The gap between vision and execution, fought one cigar at a time.

Brolo are conversational cigars.

The kind that keep you engaged and grow more complex with each passing moment. The type of cigars you nurse because you just don’t want the experience to end. The ones that make you linger a little longer...maybe even light up another one.

Imagine this, you’re in a dimly lit lounge, tucked into the back booth with two old friends you haven’t seen in years. What started as a quick catch-up turns into a two-hour dive into life…kids, careers, regrets, dreams. The ashtray’s full, the server’s ready to close your tab, but nobody moves. The cigar keeps the conversation alive. You light another not because you need it, but because you don’t want the connection to end.

It’s late on a Friday night. The week’s been heavy, and you step out on the porch with a stick. One puff in, the stress loosens its grip. Then your neighbor wanders over, libations in hand. Before you know it, you’re swapping stories under the glow of the porchlight, laughing, listening, learning. The cigar stretches the night, and neither of you is in a rush to head back inside.

Or better yet, you get talked into attending a Saturday night service at the local place of worship. You walk in with zero expectations, just showing up to check the box. But then, something the preacher says stirs your heart. The words cut through the noise of your week and you can’t shake them. As you lean in, it’s as if he’s reading straight from your diary. Every sentence lands heavier, more personal, until you realize he’s speaking right to you.. Then comes the invitation. To receive the Good Lord as Savior. To repent. To make Him King of your life. Overwhelmed by unmerited grace, tears stream down your face. For the first time in a long time, you don’t want to leave His presence. The longer you stay, the more He reveals.

That’s the same heartbeat as a Brolo moment…it lingers, it grows deeper the longer you lean in, and it calls you into something greater than yourself.

The gap between taste and skill is a brutal place to live. You know what you want, you can see it in your mind’s eye, but your hands aren’t there yet. The riffs fall flat, the blends don’t hit, the stories feel unfinished. Most people quit here. They let the frustration win.

But if you press on, if you keep putting in the reps, something shifts. Slowly, your work begins to line up with your vision. Slowly, you start closing the gap.

And in between? That’s where the magic happens.

The lingering conversations in the back booth.
The porchlight reflections with a neighbor.
The sacred moment when grace hits and you don’t want to leave His presence.

Those are the markers along the way, the proof that the struggle is worth it. Because cigars, like music and faith, aren’t just about the product…they’re about the process, the community, the way they make us stay a little longer and go a little deeper.

That’s Brolo. Conversational cigars. Slow burns that honor tradition, celebrate craftsmanship, and invite you to linger in the moments that matter most.

The gap will always be there….but so will the people, the stories, and the slow burns that make the journey worth it.

Light Up & Lean In…linger a little while longer.