But we both agreed that standing outside of an office building every hour sucking it down as fast as possible was a strong addiction, whereas half a bowl slowly puffed in a briar was milder.
* * * * *
Boys, that's why you should switch to tomatoes and cauliflower. There's nicotine in both of those vegetables, and if y'all head out to the pavement regularly to gobble a salad, you won't offend nearly so many secretaries or Berkeley Earthmoms, or even the pudgy cretin at the security desk who always comes out to yell at you to stand away from the entrance.
Fresh vegetables are good for you.
Ain't nobody gonna object.
I'm just sayin'.
* * * * *
Pipe-smoking, for me, is a memory tool.
Five of my earliest intense memories:
My father smoking a pipe at tea-time, with the afternoon sun slanting in, dust motes dancing, and the smell of his tobacco.
Another tea-time, cinnamon toast, a sharper tobacco fragrance, he was smoking his calabash pipe.
Having my stomach pumped because I had mistaken aspirin for candy.
Running desperately away from a man in a lab coat wielding a hypodermic needle. Possibly a flue-shot.
My brother yelling as the stitches were put in to close the big gaping gash on his forehead.
A softer early memory involves brown corduroy shorts, a child barrier to keep me from getting in the way, sunlight (Southern California), my dad painting our initials on large crates, and a hint of pipe smoke. That must have been before we moved to the Netherlands. Whisps of smoke issued from somewhere near his head.
Obviously those medical episodes are intense, because they were horrid experiences. But my point is that many of my best memories are tied in with the smell of tobacco -- specifically pipe tobacco -- and both mood and remembrance are sharpened by smell.
The odour of cheap Central American Rum, for some reason, brings back hospitals and doctors.
Grammar school (cigars), second year of high school (Niemeijer's Scottish Mixture, Maryland tobacco, Troost, Capstan, Erinmore Flake), third and fourth year of high school (Maryland, 'Portorico Krul-tabak', then Balkan Sobranie), interstitial year (Balkan Sobranie, plus a few Dunhills), first year in Berkeley (Latakia mixtures), Second year Berkeley (Latakia, Balkan blends, and some McClelland Virginias), and so on.
While I lived in Holland, the smell of dark shag rolling tobacco (Drum, Van Nelle, Samson, Dragon Super Zwaar, Brandaris Zware Shag, Javaansche Jongens) was always in the background.
Anyway, you get the idea.
[Other fragrances: A faint hint of salt fish or spilled shrimp paste, plus nose-evidence of recently smoldering sandal wood incense, always reminds me of hot weather and humidity: South East Asia. Add lemon grass, kentjur, or ginger, and it intensifies. Likewise the smell of burning clove, and grilling meats. Durian simply reminds me of the intersection of Stockton Street and Valejo Street. That reverberation is an overlay that drowns out previous durian memories.]
The fragrance of jasmine tea brings back the clack of chess pieces as my late brother studies the games of the masters, cats wandering in through the open sliding doors, warm summer evenings, and the smell of Balkan Sobranie Mixture, both the tin aroma and what it tasted like in the pipe.
I smoked my tobacco too wet in those days.
CHINESE BREAKFAST
After the doctor's appointment, I went down to Stockton Street for a bowl of congee and a fried bread stick. The place filled up after I got there, because an entire flock of oldsters also like congee in the morning. Preserved egg and lean pork congee (皮蛋瘦肉粥 'pei dan sau yiuk juk'), fish slice congee (魚片粥 'yü pin juk'), and plank fish and peanuts congee (柴魚花生粥 'chai-yü faa-sang juk'). Fried bread sticks (油條 'yau tiu'). Spare ribs rice (排骨飯 'paai gwat faan', paai kut faan'). Fresh cilantro sheet noodle (芫茜腸 'yuen sai cheung'). Fried thin noodles (炒粉 'chaau fan'). The desperation of hungry people keen to get the day started, get out, and live.
Bugger this rainy weather, there are awnings!
And things that must be done, now!
First smoke of the day!
Canes!
Around tea-time I'll head back to C'town. A hot cuppa, a yummy pastry, and then another pipe full. I hope the rain will have lessened by then.
TOBACCO INDEX
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