Thursday, April 12, 2007

IT'S PIPE-GLOATING TIME

Bought another new pipe. And I'm gloating.


Some people might not understand why acquisition of a smoking implement is such cause for pleasure.


Especially as I own well over a hundred of the things already.


Just imagine that it's a pair of shoes, and I'm Imelda Marcos.


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A taper-stem Peterson bent with a bowl the sides of which are too straight for it to qualify as a bent billiard, and a bend not deep enough for it to be an OomPaul. Sort of a lazy bend stack. One of their limited edition jobbies. Fully loaded it would probably last an hour.

It has that look that the pipes of one's adult relatives had when one was not yet of legal smoking age. That old and good appearance, the look that speaks to memory, and echoes a rich past and an epoch now gone.

Ships officers, draughtsmen, engineers. Coiled rope, train-sidings, long loading docks roofed with corrugated. Redwood paneling, green glass lampshades, heavy oak desk-chairs. Multi-volume scientific reference texts, slide-rules, and fine drafting equipment (made of that hard old-fashioned alloy, the one with the metal-fragrance that you can smell, not the cheap garbage soft metal compost used nowadays).


I do believe I'll be habitually smoking something stinky in it. Something with at least forty percent Latakia.


Gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat, gloat.




TOBACCO INDEX


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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You left out "cut glass decanters filled with mellow Port and fine Scotch".

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