JimInks
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Enjoyed a tasty lunch, and am celebrating my fiftieth anniversary as a pipe smoker with a bowl of pre-2014 Edward G. Robinson's Pipe Blend in the very first pipe I ever smoked (which was my father’s pipe), a late 1950s smooth with etched grooves straight Willard long stem adjustomatic Canadian with a black vulcanite stem. The last of this bag of Gold Star mmmMocha, neat, is my drink. Going to smoke the first few pipes I bought this afternoon.
Back when I was a teenager, my buddy Steve Parsons was trying for weeks to get me to try pipe smoking, knowing I had my father’s old pipe. He wanted someone to enjoy smoking with. Finally, he said, “Just try it, and if you don’t like it, I’ll never bug you again about it.” I said, “Anything to shut you up, Steve.” On June 20, 1974, he had a small still which was brewing his alcohol, and we were checking it about that time. The reason I remember the day is obvious. The reason I know the exact time I had my first bowl of pipe tobacco (1:30 p.m) is because I'm an infamous clock watcher, and when I lit up for the first time, I looked at my watch as I often do, and in this case, to record the moment so I could bitch Steve out if I hated it, which I obviously didn't. Btw, the tobacco he handed me was Borkum Riff Bourbon Whiskey, which was half decent in those days if you puffed slowly.
Steve said the batch was ready to drink, and he wanted me to try it. I said, "You are out of your freakin' mind, buddy. You made it, you try it." He wouldn't. He fed a sample to a mouse, and the mouse died. That ended that experiment. But, I enjoyed that tobacco, and was forever hooked on pipe smoking. I did bitch Steve out after high school when he quit smoking, and I was a lone smoker. I never let him forget it to this day.
Here's another story:
I was 16 and it was a very hot summer day as I was driving down the busiest street in town, smoking my pipe. The air conditioner in my car didn't work, so I had the windows down. Next thing I know, a cop stops me. He walks to my side of the car, sticks his head in the car, and has a funny look on his face. I asked why he stopped me. He said, "Aren't you smoking marijuana?" I told him I wasn't, and showed him the pouch of Skandinavik Regular. I said, "You thought I was smoking dope? If I was, would I be doing it in broad daylight in the middle of Church Street with my windows down?" "Well, I'm not used to seeing a kid smoking a pipe with pipe tobacco," as he apologized for bothering me, and walked away with a "I'm the dumbest cop in Alamance County" look on his face. I expect he graduated to policing school crosswalks after that.
Back when I was a teenager, my buddy Steve Parsons was trying for weeks to get me to try pipe smoking, knowing I had my father’s old pipe. He wanted someone to enjoy smoking with. Finally, he said, “Just try it, and if you don’t like it, I’ll never bug you again about it.” I said, “Anything to shut you up, Steve.” On June 20, 1974, he had a small still which was brewing his alcohol, and we were checking it about that time. The reason I remember the day is obvious. The reason I know the exact time I had my first bowl of pipe tobacco (1:30 p.m) is because I'm an infamous clock watcher, and when I lit up for the first time, I looked at my watch as I often do, and in this case, to record the moment so I could bitch Steve out if I hated it, which I obviously didn't. Btw, the tobacco he handed me was Borkum Riff Bourbon Whiskey, which was half decent in those days if you puffed slowly.
Steve said the batch was ready to drink, and he wanted me to try it. I said, "You are out of your freakin' mind, buddy. You made it, you try it." He wouldn't. He fed a sample to a mouse, and the mouse died. That ended that experiment. But, I enjoyed that tobacco, and was forever hooked on pipe smoking. I did bitch Steve out after high school when he quit smoking, and I was a lone smoker. I never let him forget it to this day.
Here's another story:
I was 16 and it was a very hot summer day as I was driving down the busiest street in town, smoking my pipe. The air conditioner in my car didn't work, so I had the windows down. Next thing I know, a cop stops me. He walks to my side of the car, sticks his head in the car, and has a funny look on his face. I asked why he stopped me. He said, "Aren't you smoking marijuana?" I told him I wasn't, and showed him the pouch of Skandinavik Regular. I said, "You thought I was smoking dope? If I was, would I be doing it in broad daylight in the middle of Church Street with my windows down?" "Well, I'm not used to seeing a kid smoking a pipe with pipe tobacco," as he apologized for bothering me, and walked away with a "I'm the dumbest cop in Alamance County" look on his face. I expect he graduated to policing school crosswalks after that.
