So after two weeks, a trip to the ER, a 20-day antibiotic regimen, poking and prodding with instruments of torture and various X-Rays, the diagnosis is the mystery traveling pain in my jaw is caused by a fractured molar. Bah! It's the last molar on the lower left. And the space beside has been vacant for, oh, 50 years, probably. The remedy is to extract it, let it heal, then put in an implant. Then let that heal. And until this process is complete and fully healed -- two months, probably -- I'm to "absent myself from felicity," I.e., give up my pipes! Well, I can understand not smoking with a healing wound in my mouth. But sitting with pipe in hand watching the stars come out is one of my favorite summer evening things. Fortunately it's also one of my favorite Fall evening things, too. Bah!!. . . But I repeat myself. No idea how I broke it. Dentist said it was mostly filling, there's a lot of pressure on that spot, and they get brittle with age. No, I'm not much of a clencher.