Idlefellow
West of the East and East of the West
I was sitting doing a bit of work at my desk, and my eyes swept - as they often do - across the pipe rack sitting on the shelf above. I took no particular note, went on about my work, and when finished I stepped away to get a bite to eat.
My good wife being out of town, I rummage about in the fridge, found a left-over something-or-other with chicken and almonds, popped it in the microwave, and devoured it out of necessity if not with relish. Then I thought I’d like to have a smoke.
Approaching said rack, my hand reached almost instinctively to a particular pipe; why, I cannot say. It’s noting special - a Jobey Safari shape of decent but unremarkable grain. It languishes in the rack; frankly, I can’t remember the last time I smoked it. But tonight it was “the pipe:”. I had open tobacco in the truck, and could have fetched it, but for some reason tonight that was not good enough; I popped the seal on a new tin of McClelland’s British Woods Mixture. I’m not very adventurous these days; it’s my steady blend, and a tobacco I trust. The aroma of a newly-opened tin was just as I’d expected. Filling the pipe, I grabbed another glass of wine - again, nothing special, just a decent “jug” red that is our usual table fare - and retired to the deck. There, in the gathering darkness, I enjoyed the pipe and the wine; how simple are the pleasures we most appreciate!
Through the haze of the smoke (and perhaps of the wine!) my mind drifted back over the years…I bought this pipe when I was in graduate school - 1970 or so. I was enamored with the shape then - who knows why - and in those days the pipe was a frequent companion. And I have its twin, the same model but in the sandblast version. My friend and I purchased them , maybe not at the same time but certainly in the same year. We were poor grad students, and he may have chosen the sandblast because it was a few dollars cheaper. His pipe has seen rather more use. It is heavily caked, and the stem has been bitten through. He gave it to me some years ago in a shoebox containing all his pipes when he quite smoking. Although I’ve never smoked it since he gave it to me, it sits on my desk in a place of honor, in its own individual stand.
I was best man at his wedding; I even bought a new jacket on the way, having nothing I felt was acceptable to wear. He lives across town from me, but we rarely see each other, or even speak. Yet, a few years ago when I needed to rework the stock on a rifle I had purchased he was the one I called, because I knew he would know how to work the wood and I knew I could trust him. And it turned out beautifully.
So tonight, although I did not exactly smoke “his pipe“, I thought of him, and our times together, And they were many, and they were much more than just the sharing of a similar pipe shape. And I missed him.
My good wife being out of town, I rummage about in the fridge, found a left-over something-or-other with chicken and almonds, popped it in the microwave, and devoured it out of necessity if not with relish. Then I thought I’d like to have a smoke.
Approaching said rack, my hand reached almost instinctively to a particular pipe; why, I cannot say. It’s noting special - a Jobey Safari shape of decent but unremarkable grain. It languishes in the rack; frankly, I can’t remember the last time I smoked it. But tonight it was “the pipe:”. I had open tobacco in the truck, and could have fetched it, but for some reason tonight that was not good enough; I popped the seal on a new tin of McClelland’s British Woods Mixture. I’m not very adventurous these days; it’s my steady blend, and a tobacco I trust. The aroma of a newly-opened tin was just as I’d expected. Filling the pipe, I grabbed another glass of wine - again, nothing special, just a decent “jug” red that is our usual table fare - and retired to the deck. There, in the gathering darkness, I enjoyed the pipe and the wine; how simple are the pleasures we most appreciate!
Through the haze of the smoke (and perhaps of the wine!) my mind drifted back over the years…I bought this pipe when I was in graduate school - 1970 or so. I was enamored with the shape then - who knows why - and in those days the pipe was a frequent companion. And I have its twin, the same model but in the sandblast version. My friend and I purchased them , maybe not at the same time but certainly in the same year. We were poor grad students, and he may have chosen the sandblast because it was a few dollars cheaper. His pipe has seen rather more use. It is heavily caked, and the stem has been bitten through. He gave it to me some years ago in a shoebox containing all his pipes when he quite smoking. Although I’ve never smoked it since he gave it to me, it sits on my desk in a place of honor, in its own individual stand.
I was best man at his wedding; I even bought a new jacket on the way, having nothing I felt was acceptable to wear. He lives across town from me, but we rarely see each other, or even speak. Yet, a few years ago when I needed to rework the stock on a rifle I had purchased he was the one I called, because I knew he would know how to work the wood and I knew I could trust him. And it turned out beautifully.
So tonight, although I did not exactly smoke “his pipe“, I thought of him, and our times together, And they were many, and they were much more than just the sharing of a similar pipe shape. And I missed him.
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