Well, think about the part that's missing from that article:
You clear the decks, lay out your tools, open a beer, light a smoke, and then you open your tobacco stash. The aroma hits you. From this point on, you are in the zone. Two, three hours later, you emerge from your trance with that wonderful aroma all up in your head, looking around to see if there's some more leaf you can roll. You'll be sniffing your hands the rest of the day. For the next couple months, you'll be admiring your work as it ages. Now and then, you spark one up just to see if they are ready. You give some away. You salt some away. Your stash dwindles. Before you know it, you are jonesing to get up to your elbows in leaf again.
Guess what? You can't buy that enjoyment at Thompson Cigars.
So it's like saying "It's easier to drive to the grocery store and buy a six week old green hard pear gassed and then shipped 800 miles than it is to grow a pear tree, sit under your own tree in your own yard, and eat a fresh sun ripened soft yellow pear just bursting with flavor and dripping down your chin with juice."
They don't sell that at Safeway.