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Don't listen to this guy!
Pipe story number 4
My first contact with tobacco was...well a long time ago. When I was just tall enough to do the job, my uncle gave me and my sister jobs working at the tobacco barn handing to a tier. These women were fast. My sister and I both handing, and Sandra still has time to light a cigarette. The curtain falls and time passes, it's Christmas time 2013. I no longer dip or chew. My gums were against it, but I'm a pack or better a day smoker. Our sons are in for the holiday and talking premium, hand rolled cigars. It starts drawing me, whispering my name. (no not really) As I'm researching online, I join a forum. A lot of great guys there. One that looked like you, and you and Auntie Em. Sorry, wrong flashback. The pipers on the forum are having such fun, it's not long till I stop at a B&M to get a MM Cob and a few pouches. After adding a few more pipes off the bay, I fall victim to a couple of tobacco splits. During the 2014 Holiday season, I went to my outbuilding and dug out an old shoe box from the '80s. Inside are three briars, a small meer, something my dad bought at a yard sale and a cob he made. There was even a couple of ounces of two different Tinderbox aros. Well, I might smoke one or two cigars a week, or none. But I bought a little zip up bag to carry a couple of pipes, baccy, tamp and cleaners to the van every morning. My wife even made me a bean bag to set my pipe on when I get out of the vehicle. I might smoke a couple of cigarettes a day or a dozen. A couple of days I didn't have any. (still not against them, smoke what you like and like what you smoke) Yep, I've got it bad. Now when I log on, I can't tell the support group from the enablers...as if there is a difference.
Hi. My name is George and I have TAD.
Happy as if I had good sense.
“Life is filled with glorious opportunities brilliantly disguised as insoluble problems.” Jerry Falwell
formerly gtechva
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Jumpin’ Railcars and Collectin' Cans
Nice story George thanks for sharing!
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[*]Say Strong or Mild when you sign up, just that - no explanation and I may accommodate.
Strong as balls, please.
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True Derelict
Originally Posted by
Alligator Gar
[*]Say Strong or Mild when you sign up, just that - no explanation and I may accommodate.
Strong as balls, please.
What an intrepid bunch of smokers. The last guy to attempt a bowl of Brown Boogie hasn't been right in the mind for 12 years. Oops! That's me! See!
(sorry, I have no more Brown Boogie - I must have smoked it all).
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True Derelict
Originally Posted by
Alligator Gar
[*]Say Strong or Mild when you sign up, just that - no explanation and I may accommodate.
Strong as balls, please.
Hey Jim,
Do you know New Smyrna Beach?
You guys are writing great stories! Pulitzer candidates for sure.
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True Derelict
Story Zero Cubed (0 ^ 3) Another true story to keep the juices flowing on you most creative fellows.
My friend Wayne was an inveterate pipe smoker until one day when his doctor called him and said, "Wayne, I'm looking at your x-rays and it's not good news, can you come into my office tomorrow?"
It was the worst that it could be, spots on his lung.
Tearfully he and his wife, Janice, packed up his beloved Charatans, tobacco, racks and accessories and packed them in a box. Wayne asked Janice to put them in a place where he wouldn't be able to see them, but he just couldn't part with them yet.
Wayne went to the hospital for a follow-up. Nothing. It was nothing at all. It turns out that his doctor had the x-rays for another patient. Wayne ran down the hall and called Janice at home and told her the good news.
On his way home Wayne stopped at the store and told me the story. "Wow, incredible, what great news!", I said. Wayne said that the first thing that he was going to do was hug Janice and the second was to light up a bowl of this John Cotten as he flipped the tin onto the counter with a $5 bill but I pushed the money back, "Smoke's on me Wayne!" and off he went.
He lived nearby and it wasn't 10 minutes later that I got a call. It was Wayne and he was crying.
"Oh my god, Wayne! The original x-rays were really yours?"
"No", he sobbed.
"Janice was so happy for me that she cleaned my pipes, in the dishwasher!"
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Originally Posted by
NeverBend
Hey Jim,
Do you know New Smyrna Beach?
You guys are writing great stories! Pulitzer candidates for sure.
I am intimately acquainted with NSB. We wouldn't have news in these parts if it wasn't for those guys.
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True Derelict
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Bummin' Around
@NeverBend
Pete do these stories have to be in story form? Or would a bit of prose work too?
"Just because the road stops, doesn't mean you have to!"
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Jumpin’ Railcars and Collectin' Cans
I don't really have a story specific to pipe smoking so I think I'll go with more of a ramble.
I've never been very good at working with wood. Measure twice, cut once, I still muck it up. I can take a motorcycle engine apart and put it back together again, but someone else has already gone through all the trouble of making sure the pieces fit in the first place. All I have to do is put things together in the opposite order I took them apart.
So how does all this tie into pipes? Well, when my interest was piqued about pipe smoking the tobacco wasn't the only draw. I became intrigued with the tools used to participate in the hobby. Tampers, reamers, brushes, knives, and of course the pipe itself.
I have always had a thing for tools. Growing up, my dad...let's just say he was frugal and would never pay anyone to work on our vehicles. I spent many an hour in the garage with dad holding flash lights, passing him tools, and learning an entire spectrum of four letter words (often strung together in an amazing tapestry of profanity!). Dad passed his knowledge of machines onto me and the plethora of tools that exist to keep them functioning properly. To this day when I'm putzing in the garage I'm a little tickled when I find “Well, damn...I'm going to have to add another tool to the box.”.
After smoking my first cob it wasn't long before I was spending hours at a time admiring the different styles, shapes, and materials for these smoking utensils. Reading theory about bowl size and complimentary tobacco. The unofficial science that is pipe smoking. This is also when I first learned about estate pipes.
Cleaning old grimy stuff is something I'm quite familiar with. When I was 15 my dad, an avid motorcyclist, purchased me a 1971 BMW R60/5 for Christmas. It had been sitting for years, the engine had been painted black, and it hardly ran. We had six months to fix it up before my 16th birthday to be ready for a 4000 mile father/son road trip. In those six months I cleaned more ancient grease, grime, and dirt from more parts than I care to remember. We did get the project completed in time and the bike is still my daily rider.
Flash forward to my research over on the old site and I see this guy
@Branzig
turning stuff that looked like this:
Into this:
I caught the disease. Winter was coming and I needed something to keep me occupied while I became a hermit until Spring. I did have my doubts considering I was going to deal with my arch nemesis...wood...but on the other hand mindless scrubbing for hours on end? I can do that!
I have now cleaned up around 30 estates (thanks a lot Branzig). It has been fulfilling bringing the old tools back to life. Even if it meant falling down another slippery slope. I'm to the point now that I want to try my hand at refinishing. If that works out possibly rusticating then repairing. I may even get to buy more tools!
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