IN GOOD HANDS

In a few hours I will have not one, not two, but THREE nanochips! And 15G! Seeing as the big plan for today is the booster shot. Essential because I distrust my fellow Americans and don't know where they've been. Some of them are regular typhoid Marys. Getting the appointment was easy here in the civilized world where many people actually do believe in and trust modern medicine, but it must be a right bitch in places like Florida or Texas. I'm allocating tomorrow for side effects. The second shot knocked me out of commission for a day, and I had to call in sick.
This time, if that happens, it will be on a non-working day.

After the shot I intend to have a bite to eat, followed by a pipe.

I already know which briar I shall use. An old Italian jobbie.
With an English-style Virginia mixture.

Yesterday after a late lunch it was an English pipe, one of the Hong Kong few. Appropriate, considering that the meal was at a chachanteng (a typical HK style of restaurant), accompanied by a lovely cup of strong milk tea.

When I strolled into the place I was disconcerted by the number of non-Chinese there, because as previously mentioned I suspect many of my fellow Americans, especially the white ones, of blithely being typhoid Marys as well as irresponsible cretins -- this is based on experience and observed behaviours -- so I ended up sitting in a different section. One table away from a little girl wearing a cute mask. Who had absolutely lovely hands.

I've always been fascinated by hands. Can't explain it; but it's one of the first things I notice.

In Chinese eateries observing hands is particularly rewarding; the dextrous intelligent hand gets to succesfully eat, the clumsy stupid hand needs a fork in lieu of chopsticks to achieve anything at all. Some old men betray their upbringing and years of conditioning by the elegant way they handle chopsticks, and there's something graceful about an old lady lifting noodles from the plate. Some people simply show straightforward results-oriented tool use.

Hands have a beauty in how they are used.

The pipe I smoked yesterday while reading has an appeal to the eye, but feels delightful to the hand. The elegant curve translates to tactile joy, the digits find a favourite angle.

You should never lend another person your books or your pipes unless you trust them thoroughly. Their hands may be clumsy, they might not quite respect the item.

One of my fellow pipe smokers restores pipes because he enjoys doing so. I'm sure he respects the item. Good hands. Good man. And I know what he smokes.

He's had three shots.

TOBACCO INDEX


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