NOT EVERY ONE THERE WAS THERE

This is something which I feel I must make clear: I am alive and full of beans. The reason for the clarification being that today I had to assure people over a dozen times that my health is good, I've recovered from medical events, my strength is back, and I'm fine thank you for asking. Never thought I would have to say this, but really, I'm okay. Full of the proverbial P and V.

Yeah, mmm, the right leg is a bit wankel.
It's a circulatory issue.

When I become a zombie, I'll let you know.



Today was the monthly meeting of the local pipe club. Pipesmokers who are social enough to meet once a month may not be social enough. In this era we tend to be loners. People often say that they never see people smoking a pipe anymore, and why is that? well, in the fifties salesmen and advertising execs smoked pipes, by the seventies it was hairy beach apes and lawyers, and in this day and age it's crusty old Dutchmen or such like, who hide from women, children, and the typical middle class Californian busy bodies who want to make all lives of which they do not approve sheer hell on earth.


"HOW DARE YOU RUIN MY LUNGS?!?!!"


Who are you, and how did you gain access to my cave? Also, why are you breathing? I could mention something about Berkeley hipster-moms wearing Guatamalan stink-rags, burning sage and wearing sandals because of the dolphins and the suffering rain forest, and being totally okay with wheat grass, marijuana, and little Timmy on his ADD medication -- it's green sweetie, organic cow dung, and the need modern puritans have to self-affirmatively harangue people about their un-woke sinfulness -- but I won't.

We pipe smokers just aren't very social. Just leave us alone with our stinky leaves and a lovely cheese plate, and pretend we don't exist. We try not to exist in your perfect universe.

What I'm basically getting at is that I only see these gentlemen once a month at best, which means that it's been a mere six or seven actual days for many of them since I was in the hospital. One week. If that. They're nice people, but they were off in their own worlds, chasing the fox or sniffing the truffle, even ripping apart the fresh cadaver like a hungry turkey vulture. Whatever the modern middle-aged pipe smoker does.

Real time: six months.

Yeah, I wasn't the paradigm of sociability either. I spent a lot of time hiding out in Chinatown drinking Hong Kong Milk Tea, snarfing snackipoos, and just observing people. But I was not the life of the party, anywhere.
I didn't even use my telephone as a social instrument.
There has been no reaching out and touching.
In whichever direction.



There were two very fine cheeses at the meeting. I should've written down what they were, but I wasn't thinking. They were really quite tasty.
Naval bases in the Pacific got mentioned, as well as durian.

Bernard smoked a bowlful of Captain Black Gold, as an ironic gesture, seeing as all flavoured tobacco products have been banned in our locality.
Because of the children, who cannot resist such things.
It's all about the children.

There were at least two Scotches, and several bottles of very nice wine. Including an amazing Zinfandel, which I did not sample, but heard about.
Other than that, I can't really say much about the meeting, it was too busy, and I had to abandon them several times. Plus there were cigar-smokers screaming at the ball game in the back.

TOBACCO INDEX


==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================