Cigar smokers, as I heard today, all remember the first time they got a ( -- blank -- ). Pipe smokers remember their first tobacco. Not because they are sexless, but because they are cleaner-minded, nearly saints. My very first pipe tobacco was Niemeijer's Scottish Mixture.
A month or so later I bought a tin of Niemeijer's Irish Mixture. Basically the same variegated blend of light and dark ribbon, with for the first heather honey and Scotch whisky notes, for the second, Irish whiskey with a touch of citrus. I cannot remember which of those two my father handed me back disdainfully when it was discovered that at fourteen years old I had become a pipesmoker.
"Good pipe tobacco does not smell like a Turkish bathhouse; smoke good tobacco."
Having crossed that bridge, and been outed by the cat, who had found my stash and played with the pipes, I was became blatant about it. I asked for a serious increase in my allowance because good pipe tobacco is not cheap, and within a fairly short period discovered Latakia blends. Whereupon well meaning elderly degenerates would take me aside in coffee shops and whisper conspiratorily that I'd have a lot more friends if instead I smoked Clan.
Two things must now be mentioned: 1): I did not smoke to attract friends (or aged dingbats). 2): Latakia blends are splendid and delicious, whereas Clan (by Theodorus Niemeijer) is nasty aromatic shite that will wreck your pipes, tastebuds, and morals.
So, speaking of first times, today a respected member of the pipe club brought a bottle of grappa to the meeting. Naturally I did not have any -- one of us has to remain cold sober to drive them all out into the snow at the appointed time -- but I did thoroughly enjoy the pâté. Sometimes there is nothing finer than duck organ meat made smooth and oleaginous. Neil also brought a big bag of shortbread, because he knows I like his shortbread very much. One of the other members is currently reading about Jan Pieterszoon Coen -- an accomplished man, much admired -- and I was happy to remind him of what happened in Banda, about which we shall not speak, but it does rather illustrate how we Dutch engage in trade.
At one point one of the attendees said something berserk, but his marbles were always on shaky ground anyway, and sometimes I think he lost it. We are all getting on in years, and not everyone has my gravitas and equitable personality.
All in all I had a very good time. The others did as well.
Sex was not mentioned because we are clean-minded.
Unlike the cigar smokers in the back room.
Who are a bunch of filthy hooligans.
Icky and quite cretinous.
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