Not everyone is blessed.
My apartment mate qualifies, in ways which I will not detail. And a man in North Beach who was brilliant at document forgery was also in the fold.
He and I got along because I was trained as a printer, and good at drafting.
Also Elizabeth ('Liz'), who collected guns and drank a lot of Old Grandad Bourbon; a relationship of a year's duration impressed upon me that I was, maybe, not ideal boy-friend material. Perhaps not romantic enough.
Tobacco pipes reflect as good a set of character traits as any.
Over the years I have added to my pipe collection, both new and used. Sometimes deliberately -- the three Petersons that together painted a portrait of a man from the sixties, spare, with refined but straightforward aesthetics and tastes, or the old fellow who liked unassuming classic shapes and smoked old-fashioned Burley blends -- or entirely by happenstance; the pipes far too battered to be worth restoring.
In which I never-the-less saw something worthwhile.
Some of which I am now quite fond of.
Such as this lovely item.
Like the pipe mentioned yesterday (see below), it had been gunked up to a fare-thee-well. But underneath the years of grime it was lovely wood.
Both of these briars are superlative with the stinkiest Latakia mixtures.
The Pipe For Watching Rats in Spofford Alley is another one of the many redeemed smokers. I fill it once a week. Even though the regular Tuesday evening jaunt with the bookseller through dives in North Beach is on hold indefinitely, I still smoke it late at night in observance of the tradition.
The 'PFWRinSA' is very good with Virginia Perique blends, a little cramped for Latakia mixtures. But I mostly smoke Va-Pers nowadays.
Of course, this also brings up the tobaccos that pipe smokers like. Sometimes their tastes are more precisely defined by their times than should really be the case; what they first started with, followed by experiments with what was available, and what others smoked.
Herewith a sample of preferences
My father liked a mixture from a tobacconist in Beverly Hills that he started patronizing during his teenage years. While in the Canadian Air Force during the war, during college and on-board ship afterwards, and while studying to become an aeronautical engineer, he still smoked it. When we moved overseas (Holland) he eventually smoked his pipes less and less.
I now have them. They are lovely. Everything pipes should be.
Old-style American blends, scant condimentals.
I also have his drafting equipment.
Fine quality alloys.
Herman smoked Coopvaert and Voortrekker, both of which were run of the mill Maryland ribbon tobaccos, such as all good tobacconists in the Netherlands recommended instead of the horrid aromatics which were becoming common. Good leaf, no added chemicals or perfumes.
An instrument maker and musician, socially reserved.
Professor 'M', an old classmate of my mother when both of them were taking Old English and Old Norse in college, smoked flakes and cavendish. But kept his pipes rather clean. Good spaghetti.
Liked Trappist ale.
Pauline smoked Drucquer & Sons Blend 805, or sometimes Drucquers Trafalgar. She had the loveliest collection, and excellent taste. It's been many years since I saw her. She started smoking in college.
Levit liked older Petersons, and hunted out prize examples. Which he would ruin in less than a week by smoking Condor or St. Bruno, wetly gurgling; after he had owned a pipe no one ever wanted it again.
Johan would spend hours on the mezzanine at the Caffè Mediterraneum on Telegraph Avenue with full Latakia mixtures and multiple espressos studying for his degree in Renaissance History (with an fascination for the Borgias), then when they closed for the night go across the street to huff Gauloises and have a few pints of Anchor Steam to calm down. He had coarse tastes otherwise, but was neurotic about keeping his pipes and fountain pens clean and workable.
Neil occasionally buys estate pipes, fiddles with them and cleans them up, then happily smokes Germain's King Charles or one of Greg Pease's mixtures in them. He smokes slow. And only one or two bowls a day, often with the cat. His favourite shape is the GBD Rhodesian, no. 9438.
Corn chowder, quiche Lorraine, short bread, barbecued ribs.
He's an excellent cook.
William collects pipes, though I have not been able to pinpoint his tastes. His tobacco is mild English, occasionally Virginia Perique, frequently aromatic. In any of his pipes. Which he only smokes halfway down.
Homesteading in the wilds of Sonoma County.
Martin is full Latakia, in rather large pipes. At present he is ogling an estate Ferndown, a panelled bent bulldog. He bought all of the McClelland 14 that was left in the Bay Area. Red wine and French food.
Good with wood.
The pee-doctor is probably still despairing of finding a replacement for his McClelland 5100, as well as outraged over the prices of tobacco and beer. Cheap bastard. I wonder whom he regularly stole the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal from.
T. Eager loved Erinmore Flake, bless his heart. He left this world two years ago. His pipes were usually wet. But he was cheerful, had a great sense of humour, and had survived the occupation of Hong Kong.
He had great tales, and was an avid gardner.
Doctor George only smoked Dunhill's London Mixture, only in Oom Pauls, also by Dunhill. He would explain that the Oom Paul shape was ideal for when you had to write reports after surgery.
Passed on six years ago.
The 'Harbour Porpoise' probably smoked Latakia mixtures, which I only remember because I hurried back to Grants one day to buy all of the McClelland Blue Mountain they had before he could get any. I think of him in the same breath as 'Left Testicle Dave' and the man who left his wife while he and the dogs took a trip across the country.
TOBACCO INDEX
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