Pipe Smoking Stories
Larry Luffman
could post.I think it would make for interesting reading.....Once when
I was visiting a smoke shop an elderly lady came in and bought a
couple ounces of pipe tobacco.I don't often see elderly ladies buying
pipe tobacco.Being curious I asked the fella behind the counter if he
knew who she bought it for.He explained that her husband smoked that
blend for years before he passed away.Then he said that she buys
tobacco each month.She keeps it in a bowl on the table to remind her
of him.Each month she replaces it with fresh for the smell.That was
years ago.I'm sure that this lady has passed on by now.I've always
remembered the story though.That kind of love is hard to find.
NCguy
Casey
Hi Larry,
It's odd that you mention the pipe related stories thread idea. I had
the very same thought the other day and just forgot to post anything.
Once I was at my local B&M and a middle aged lady came in and inquired
about buying some 1Q for her boyfriend who was working in California.
She said it was his favorite and she was going to send it to him since
he couldn't find it where he was. When the tobacconist asked how much
she wanted, she said "how much you got?" She walked away that day with
five pounds of 1Q and about $120 poorer, if I recall correctly.
A couple weeks ago I was in Florida for my sister's wedding. The hotel
my brother and I were staying at, as well as the wedding location, was
in a very cool 'old time' community on the beach. The buildings and
shops were very unique and very cool to walk around in. It was like an
old village style. I had with me my Murray beach cruiser bike. So during
the day before the wedding, I went off riding my bike armed with a Jobey
Band bent pipe with orange pearlized lucite stem, some SG BBF, and my
blue newsboy hat to hide my greasy hair. I rode my bike to the Starbucks
to get a muffin and a water. I kick-standed my bike and headed for the
coffee shop. A lady stopped me and said "I noticed you're smoking a
pipe. What part of Europe are you from?" A bit stunned, I replied
"Louisiana." Much to my dismay, my reply caused her to lose interest
very quickly. I got a pretty good kick out of it, though.
Cool thread. I'm looking forward to reading other stories.
Casey
The Pirate
Ever since a family trip to Disney World three year ago my grand
daughter, Autumn, has called me 'Pirate'. She gave everyone in the
famoly Disney names. She likes to watch me smoke my pipes. One night
she handed me a pipe..."Smoke this one Pirate". I filled and lit the
pipe. she watched for a few minutes then leaned forward.."You and
Captain Hook are the only real pirates left," she said.
Ken
NICHE541
random
Yes it is hard to find, and if you should get some on you forget about
ever getting it off, even lighter fluid won't touch it.
--
no advertisement
Briarroot
> Just wondering if some here have stories about pipe smoking they could
> could post.I think it would make for interesting reading..
>
About 10 or 12 years ago, I was attending a small get-together in my
neighbor's back yard (our back yards adjoined one another). We were
most of us pipe & cigar smokers so I felt comfortable smoking one of my
nameless billiards while holding a mug of iced tea. I was leaning
against the back fence talking with one of the female guests when I
noticed her attention wavering. Suddenly, a furry paw came out of
nowhere and swatted my right ear! I opened my mouth to yelp in surprise
and down dropped my pipe straight into the mug of iced tea - plop,
sizzle! It seems that, Jack, my 15-lb tomcat, had been sneaking up on
me for some minutes by walking along the top of the fence separating our
properties. Alicia, the lady I had been speaking with, howled with
laughter along with the other guests as I ruefully retrieved my sodden
pipe and attempted to scold Jack who just sat there looking smug (the
varmint!). I wish someone had taken a snapshot of that moment!
He was a character, that cat. ;-)
Regards,
Tim Parker ... Butera Royal Vintage Golden Cake in a Barling billiard
--
"It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker
that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest."
- Adam Smith
Briarroot
> I rode my bike to the Starbucks
> to get a muffin and a water. I kick-standed my bike and headed for the
> coffee shop. A lady stopped me and said "I noticed you're smoking a
> pipe. What part of Europe are you from?" A bit stunned, I replied
> "Louisiana."
>
<roars with laugher!>
I love it! ;-)
Nick
table with some pipes set out on it to sell or trade or whatnot. This
little old lady comes strolling by with a box of a dozen or so pipes.
She says they were her husband's, who passed on a few years back, and
she was just trying to raise some money as things were tight that
month. I doubt I was the first table she visited, as I was in the
middle of the room. Well, she seemed really sweet, and a bit
ditraught, so I took a look at the pipes. They were all beat up low
grades. Many cracked bowls and and bit through stems. Well, I really
just couldn't bring myselt to turn her away, so I told her I'd give
her $50 for the whole box. She just seemed to sag with relief. I'd
sold a few pipes, so I had the cash, and hell, you can't take it with
you. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I gave her the money
and she tottered off. Judd...damn if i can remember his name. But
Judd from ebay fame, was at the next table. He said "That's a good
thing you just did there." "Yep," I replied. He looked through the
box and said he'd give me $10 bucks for the lot. I picked out two
pipes to remember the occasion by and let him have them.
Matteo in Italy
dad-d-o
wrote:
>
> - Show quoted text -
My father-in-law and his batchelor brother used to run a mechanic shop
out of his garage back in the 30's and 40's. When my oldest brother-in-
law.Phil, decided he wanted to repair and old car, the shop was
cleaned out and and old '54 Chevy was wheeled in to be the victim.
Most of the work was done on weekends, as everyone had to work during
the week.
The weekends became family get togethers and every one of my wive's
sisters would bring something special they had prepared.
Many times the weekend started out a fishing trip or hunting trip and
evenings after supper were used to work on the car. Both father-in-law
and Uncle Albert, as we called him, smoked a pipe. Father-in-law
usually had Grabow's or Medico's and always smoked PA or Velvet. Uncle
Albert had some nameless pipes that were held together with wire and
black tape. His choice was Half-n-Half. He wanted a new pipe but
wasn't about to shell out $7 for one. Don't think I ever saw him use a
pipe cleaner on one of his pipes
Working on the engine of the old car was tight quarters for 4 to 5
people with their heads, and pipes stuck in there. My two oldest sons
had to have their noses in when they could squeeze in between
someone. The boys didn't like the auroma of Half-n-Half and were
always trying to get on the other side of the car from Uncle Albert.
After we worked a while, Uncle Albert would sit on a stool and tell
stories about the old days in the shop. Always with a fresh bowl of
'baccy.
One week the boys had heard some stories from school about cutting up
rubber bands and putting the clippings in with pipe tobacco. When the
weekend came, the middle of July in western Kansas, the boys couldn't
wait to get to the shop.
Uncle Albert fired up his pipe and was giving my brother-in-law
instructions on how to set the tapetts for the car. Phil kept
complaining about the smell--said it smelled like burnt oil.
We all took a break, and Uncle Albert pulled out his can of Half-n-
Half to lead his pipe. My son's scurried to stand behind my back,
which was unusual. Out came the match. PUFF! PUFF!
"What is that God awful smell", quipped Phil?
"I don't smell 'nuttin", stated Uncle Albert.
"Yuck!", from father-in-law.
"Did you turn off that drop light, son", asked father-in-law?
Phil answered, "Yeah!"
"Smells like someone is buring an old hose", I said.
About that time my wife, mother-in-law and two sister's-in-law came
into the garage with homemade ice cream and cake.
"What the heck you have burnin'" mother-in-law asked?
"Nuttin' but our pipes and cigaretts', Uncle Albert answered.
My wife grabbed Uncle Albert's pipe and took a whiff of it. "That
smells like shit!"
By this time the two boys couldn't contain themselves any longer.
"We put chopped up rubber bands in Uncle Albert's pipe tobacco."
Albert grabbed his pipe back and started puffing on it.
As the odor and smoked rolled from his pipe, he commented, "Doesn't
taste any different to me."
Comments ranged from: "Throw that stinkin' thing away!" "Now the
banana-nut ice cream won't taste any good." "Your nose must be
ruuined." "Don't offer me any of that 'baccy."
To this day, burning rubber always reminds me of Hal-n-Half.
Luke Oberley
LOL, I love old stories about uncle Albert. I remember the electrical
tape pipe and the half-n-half.
Luke