About a month-and-a-half ago (the week before Christmas), I bought my first pipe. I'd been curious about it for awhile, but I never really planned on making the step. As far as smoking went, I was generally opposed, mostly out of my loathing for cigarettes. I had tried cigarettes before, and I found them somewhat disagreeable. The tobacco was so chemically treated that it left a residue in my mouth, the smoke was too harsh, and the only effect of the nicotine was to irritate my throat. I gave it an honest try, but decided it was not for me. (I'd almost decided the same for cigars, but I found that actual hand-rolled cigars are quite pleasant, whereas the machine-made ones are almost as bad as cigarettes.) Another reason was that I enjoy singing, and I know too many people who have affected their voices for the worse due to cigarettes.With all this, I probably never would have considered pipes had I not started reading the Wheel of Time series. It presented the idea of smoking a pipe as an occasional treat, something indulged in every so often, but not done to excess. It made sense. I reasoned, with all the pollutants in the air and chemicals in our food, how much worse, really, would an occasional pipe be? (I've since read a study by the Surgeon-General's office which stated that a person smoking one pipe every two to three days actually has the same, if not better, life expectancy of the average non-smoker. Go figure.) And I didn't even have to worry about what the smoke would do to my voice. You don't inhale pipe smoke.
So I bought a pipe. I've bought a few more since. I've tried a few different kinds of tobacco. English blends seem to be my favorite; the smoky flavor of latakia is a true delight. And through the trial, I've discovered the differences between smokers. Those who smoke cigarettes always seem so harried to me. They get the nic fix their bodies crave and then they move on. Cigar smokers are more relaxed; there is technique required in properly smoking a cigar, and it teaches patience. Smoking a pipe, however, goes even further. It is a ritual. Fill the pipe (many different methods to choose from, three-pinch being most popular), perform a charring light, tamp down the tobacco, perform a true light, and then sip gently at the stem. Maybe you have to relight a few times; finishing a pipe can take an hour or more. Once the pipe has been smoked, you can refill or you can break the pipe down and clean it. The entire endeavor is calming, relaxing. It's a shame that it has fallen so to the wayside. Most of the time, when I go into a tobacco shop and ask for pipe tobacco, the clerk will point at a solitary bag on a barren stretch of shelf. Even then, it isn't really pipe tobacco. It's a bag of Roll Your Own cigarette tobacco--the companies label this stuff as pipe tobacco to avoid taxes.
So one more tally to mark me as an old fogey. I don't really care. In fact, I prefer it. There is vast, rich culture out there for those who are not afraid to fall behind the times. One more thing before I go. One of my managers asked me to carry a case of cigarettes from receiving up to the tobacco counter. Before I left on the errand, she asked if I smoked. "A pipe," I said. She shook her head. "I should have known."
"To walk peacefully with oneself in the woods. To boil one's coffee and fill one's pipe, and to think idly and slowly as one does it." Knut Hamsun
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