Bon Vieux Temps - C

 

 

Since the variances of life took a difficult set of turns for a while, and I had not been able to write all of my adventure in a more timely fashion, I thought it good to repeat a small portion of where I had left off in my Chicago adventure from before.  If you want to read it all again, part A is here, and part B is here.  But in italics below is the last few sentences I had written in "B":

It was truly beautiful in aroma.  "That DOES seem exactly like something I would like." I stated.  I then reached on the shelf and took down one of the smaller cans (7 oz).  "I will get this then."

"Sounds good..... you want to try a bowl?"

Now, MY eyebrows arched.

* * * * *

Then I realized he was probably suggesting I take some time in the Lounge.  Unfortunately, though that would have been DELIGHTFUL, I knew I had only a brief time for my visit, perhaps at most ~20-30 minutes at most before I had to head back to the conference work group.  And, $15 dollars to sit in the lounge for 15-20 minutes did not seem wise.

"Well, I would like to, but I only have a little bit of time before I have to head back to my conference.  I would not be able to use the lounge well for just a little while."

He looked at me and said, "No, I meant you could try a bowlful here while you look around some more."

Now I arched my eyebrows even more.

"I didn't think that was possible, with the strict public smoking ban that Chicago has."

He grinned.  "You got your pipe with you?"

I retrieved it from my backpack. He held out his hand in a gesture where I knew he wanted to examine it. I gave it to him.  He looked at it, inspecting the shank for the crooked imprint on its side.

"Nice.  This is a real good looking Comoy’s “second." He then started to walk out from behind the counter and walked over to the side cabinetry and went behind it a bit.  He clicked a switch and I heard a sound... a familiar whirr of a rotary buffing wheel begin its rotational spinning.  

A "second" is the name given to a pipe that a manufacturer produces that has an "imperfection" of some sort... the grain of the briar of the bowl may be a little less fine, detailed, or predictable than desired, or there may be a small imperfection in the grain itself.  Other "seconds" sometimes are where the maker's stamp may be uneven, or poorly formed, or crooked.  "Seconds" can be absolutely wonderful smoking pipes from any good manufacturer, they are just not "perfect".... and their price is reflective of that.  They are sometimes called "basket" pipes, because at least traditionally at a lot of shops, the owners would have a bunch of these "seconds" from all the brands of pipes they carry in a single basket that would be their discounted pipes.  Because I have always been a penny-pinching sort of fellow, most of my pipes are "basket" pipes.  They are all beautiful to me.  

"Doesn't your fellow back home ever work on your stems for you?" he stated as he started to buff out the stem of my pipe.  

It was true, my stem was quite oxidized and rather grayish in color.  "He has. I just haven't asked him to do so in quite a while." I stated, which while accurate, also allowed me to again side-step the notion that I had not smoked my pipes in nearly five years, which I really did not want to mention.

I then added, "He has even buffed the mouthpieces of my bass clarinet for me a few times over the years."

Buffing (polishing on a buffing wheel) of stems is a practice that a lot of folks like for their pipes that have a non-plastic stem.  Vulcanite and other types of hard rubber stems will gradually oxidize and change from their common, deep black color to a hazy grey or beige, or even a slightly green tint from use, and even from just day-to-day exposures to air, light, saliva, etc.  Buffing removes the thin layer of oxidation so that the hard rubber stem is shiny, and a deep, dark, black again.  You usually have to ASK to have this done in the few pipe shops that still have a buffing wheel.  

I have pipes that have plastic stems, but I do tend to prefer the vulcanite and other hard rubber stems more, as they have a little bit of "give" when you grip the stem between your teeth.  Just like with my bass clarinet.... I have a few plastic mouthpieces, but I tend to prefer to play using my older, vulcanite mouthpieces because of this little bit of give (and, whether real or imagined, I think my tone is richer with the rubber mouthpieces as well). 

After polishing the stem, he handed my pipe back to me.  It was indeed beautiful!  The stem was back to its deep, black hue.  The bowl of my pipe was a semi-glossy light oak color and the pipe itself was one of my favored 1/4 bent "Dublin-esque" style pipes. 

"Thank you, I greatly appreciate the polishing.  It looks wonderful, better than it has in a very long time!" I stated.

"Not a problem.  It is one of my favorite parts of the job.  I like to see the transformations, myself, and I do most of the work on the estate pipes and repairs we get. Look at this one...."

He showed me an old Peterson pipe that apparently had been brought in or was an estate acquisition.  It was nearly pristine.  A full-bent, dark walnut-bowled pipe.  He then took out his phone and showed me a "before" photo of the beast.  In that photo, I could see that this pipe had been EXTENSIVELY used but not cleaned much.  Its bowl had quite a bit of excessive cake buildup, and the stem was almost a whitish-grey from oxidation other than where the owner had gripped the stem between his teeth.  

"Wow!  Quite a transformation!" I said.  

"Yeah, I'm pretty happy with how this one turned out.  The fellow who owns it is a regular here, and he brings me a different pipe to work on every two weeks like clockwork. Hadn't seen this one since before the pandemic started."

He then walked out from behind the polishing area back to the tobacco section.

"You want to try a bowlful of the "Three Star"?  

"What about the indoor ban here in Chicago?  I read on your website...."

"Hah!  Yeah, technically, we're supposed to only allow smoking in the Lounge." he said, pausing for a moment. 

Then he grinned again, "But, we don't really pay much attention to that.  Back a dozen or so years ago when the law was enacted, we received one citation.  We used to have a copy of it framed up here for a while.  

He paused again for a moment.  "But that was the only one we ever got, and I think it happened the first week of that ban.  But it was dismissed.  We're the only store on the second floor, so no one really cares.  Hell, we have several of Chicago's Finest who are loyal customers, and they smoke their pipes or cigars here like everyone else."

Reaching up toward the top of the counter, he tipped the glass sampling canister containing the loose "Three Star Blue"  towards me.  "Try a bowlful before you buy."

*****

Running out of time for today. I will try to finish the rest of the adventure as soon as I can.  

• Ran 13.1 miles (~21km) today. 
• PCS = 8
• Worked on a lot of prep work for next semester's classes.

PipeTobacco  

  

Pushing Through

 

The summary statement:

"It was not as bad as it could have been, nor as good as it could have been."

encapsulates the collective of my Holiday experience.  

Life proceeded, no major meltdowns occurred.  It was not a time of "joy & festivities" but it was a time of pushing through with work to have minimal conflict.  

The difficult relationship I no longer feel comfortable speaking of here proceeded.  No worsening. No bettering.  It just is as it is.  It is not where I would like it.  But, it is not getting worse... at least at the moment.  

*****

Yet, it was rather energy draining.  It has not been relaxing.  It has not been resting on my laurels.  Nor has it been basking in love nor affirmation.  It just is as it is.

*****

The positives are that I have my wife with me.  She is my companion on this journey.  I relish her and am thankful for her.  We may take a day trip to a Capuchin Monastery.  If we get to do this, it will be helpful for both of us.  That may be our Holiday highlight.  

*****

Through all of this, I have pushed and forced myself to continue on my 55 mile (~89 km) a week running journey.   A few days during the Holiday it has been a struggle to do so, but at the same time, pushing myself to do so has helped tire me out so that I feel less the stressors swirling about. If I complete the 55 miles this week, I will have ran 55 miles every week through the entirety of 2022.  I will know the official tally at the end of the week, but I am set to hit ~2,850 miles (~4,587km) for 2022. We shall see what the official tally will be.  

Since 2022 was a full blown return to "normal" work (no Covid-related aspects of getting some quantity of work occurring from home) I have found that my 55 miles a week is a bit taxing on my old body.  I am not sure yet my plans for 2023.  I am contemplating reducing my weekly mileage to 50 miles a week.  I am not sure yet, if that will be my plan for I feel a bit sad about reducing.  But, I think it may be also easier to maintain as an effort.  But, I am not sure what I will ultimately decide.  

*****

In  my next post, I am hopeful that I can immerse myself again back into memories of my Chicago trip and continue with that.  I want to write about it as its own experience, rather than have it colored by the current state.  I believe I am at a point where that is again possible.

PipeTobacco  

Revolution #9

 

The seven stages of grief are a model for explaining many complicated experiences of loss. The seven stages are often identified as:

• Shock: A state of disbelief and numbed feelings.
• Pain: You feel that the loss is unbearable.
• Anger: You may lash out or internalize the anger.
• Depression: You may enter a period of isolation and loneliness consumed by the loss.
• The Change: Anger and pain have quieted somewhat, and you’re left in a somewhat less chaotic state.
• Reconstruction: You can begin to put pieces of your life back into some sort of potential order.
• Acceptance: A very gradual acceptance of a new way of life. 

The situation which I no longer feel comfortable talking about here has, as it has in the past thrown my wife and I again into the stages of grief.  I am slower to adapt than my wife.  She relatively easily compartmentalizes and is able to ignore "things" that are harsh, or hurtful, or hard.  Unfortunately for me, I am a ruminator and dweller on "things" and do not have much ability to ignore or forget.  When I do not get to talk about or discuss my feelings with the person who has hurt me, things remain unresolved in my mind, and I have tremendous difficulty going beyond thinking about the hurt, thinking about the pain, thinking about anguish.  It is not healthy to be "locked" into those thoughts, having them spin over and over and over in my mind with no answers, no ability to resolve, no ability to work to try to try to fix things.  Being locked into these thoughts is not sustainable.  It is very, profoundly dark.  The mental and emotional pain itself is detrimental and as it persists, it to leads to noticeable and very significant physical decline.  

A whirlpool is a rapidly rotating mass of water in a river or sea into which objects may be drawn, typically caused by the meeting of conflicting currents. I feel as if I am again sinking into the center of an oceanic whilrpool into which I have been summarily tossed.  I am struggling to tread water.  I am working with all the energy I can muster to not drown in the water's rapid rotations.  Yet, I am so very tired.  If I did not have my wife, I am not sure if I would fight against the water's rotations.  Yet, I must be there for her.

In the year & a half in which my wife and I have been experiencing these nuclear weapon-like bombshells across various time frames, the shrapnel of these explosions has bloodied us and given us many scars.  I miss who we were.  I miss how we were.  I miss the family we had. 

As I have had to do before, and must try to force myself again to do.... I must try to pull myself up by the proverbial bootstraps, and begin again and adapt again.  It is not easy.  But it is all I can try to do, for to not try to do so would just be the end.

I am in the stage of "depression" working like hell to slide into "the change" and hopefully into "reconstruction".  The bomb detonated before I had finished the ~200 grades for my students.  For a couple of days, especially through the weekend, I struggled to work on them.  I received ~40 e-mails from students from Friday through the weekend wanting their grade, or begging for points, or asking for extra credit.  These e-mails further drained me.  The U deadline for submitting grades was yesterday (Tuesday) so I was not late.  I was just not done at the speed these students wanted.  I wrote to all my students asking them to "Please be patient." on Sunday.  I only received three additional e-mails about grades after sending out the "patient" e-mail on Sunday.  I submitted grades on Monday, well within U guidelines.

I am hoping my writing again here yesterday and now today is an indication of my moving into "the change".  I am going to force myself to keep trying.

PipeTobacco 

 
 

Cornucopia of Crap

The sh*t hit the fan. More "beautiful" things have been occurring about the topic I no longer can write about here.

All I can say is that I have no interest in the holiday season, no interest in being with family.  No interest in doing anything. I go to work because it is less awful than the alternative.

I had a lot to say still about Chicago. But, who knows when I will feel up to that.  I do not feel "up" for anything, anymore.

I just wanted to let you know why I have not been writing.

PipeTobacco

Bon Vieux Temps - B

 

The "Pre-Holiday Rodent Crisis" I spoke of yesterday was the result of a U Administrative change in our Purchasing Department.  In the middle of this semester, our process of purchasing moved to a supposedly "better" and "improved" fully paperless process.  It has been somewhat of a nightmare to learn.  Fortunately, I only infrequently have to deal with this new system as most items in our Department are ordered by our Stockroom/Laboratory Technician.  He, however, has grown considerably more bald as a result of pulling more of the limited hair he as out from frustration with this "improved" process.  He has, however, gotten comfortable enough with the process to be confident in it.  

Unfortunately, though, it would be anticipated that the INSTIGATORS of this new ordering system WOULD be damn near experts in their own self-developed process... prior to foisting it upon the rest of the U at-large.  This apparently was not the case.  An order for rodent food that was placed nearly four weeks ago never showed up, and yesterday the animal caretakers came and told us there was no  more rodent food!  Our Stockroom/Laboratory Technician was visibly flustered but began to investigate.  It turned out that this "improved" paperless order had navigated through all the appropriate channels (about eight different bureaucratic signatures are needed to buy damn near anything) and the order WAS approved and sitting in the queue at the U's Purchasing Department.... and had been sitting there.... not acted upon.... for THREE weeks!  Somehow, the Purchasing Department did not know how to identify and access their own damn paperwork.  And, with the Holidays nearly upon us, it was unclear when/if the rodent food would now arrive before the Receiving Department would nearly shut down to a skeletal crew for the Holiday Season or not until well into the start of the new year.   

But hungry rodents NEED food!  So, I ended up spending a sizable chunk of time yesterday driving my trusty steed to the opposite end of the county to the nearest "Tractor Supply Co." store.  There I bought two 50 pound (~23 kg) bags of cattle feed.  Yes... CATTLE feed.  The relative composition of these cattle feed pellets is nearly the same as our rodent chow in terms of protein, fiber, carbohydrates, etc.  It also was the only suitable feed that was shaped in large-sized pellets that were similar in size to our rodent chow (other feeds were much smaller in pellet size).   And, unlike dry dog food, it was fully herbivorous like our rodent chow is as well.  I paid for both bags, and then hoisted each up into the bed of my truck, and proceeded back to the U.  

Crisis averted.  Now the rodents will stop squeaking and will instead be saying "Moo!"

* * * * *

Now back to my Chicago journey:

From what I could gather looking at the map, Iwan Ries was approximately a little over a one mile walk or so with only a few turns.... from the hotel... this was of course presuming I did not get lost, which is not always a safe assumption on my part when walking around in a larger city.  

It was a pleasantly sunny day.  Although cold, my hat and gloves (and long underwear) all made the navigating around very comfortable.  And, it was not nearly as windy as it was the day before, so that too was pleasant.  

I was able to navigate well, and I then saw the "Iwan Ries" sign hanging from the side of an older, rather non-descript,  multi-story building.  I kept moving forward.  A small "sandwich board" type sign  on the sidewalk outside of the building had a sign on it that stated, "Iwan Ries" is on the SECOND FLOOR.  This seemed a little odd to me, for I never recalled ANY pipe tobacco shop in Chicago (or elsewhere for that matter) that was not located on the ground floor. I had been to a few pipe shops over the years that were large enough to HAVE a second floor, but they had always had their entry on the ground floor.  

So, I enter the building and look around a bit before I see an elevator.  I did not see any readily apparent stairs, although they must have been around somewhere.  So I boarded the elevator to the second floor.  Upon exiting the elevator, I could detect the very pleasant aromas of tins and tubs of various pipe tobaccos and I could also detect a very slight aroma of some pipe tobaccos and cigars that were being indulged in as well.  I presumed the smoking lounge was nearby the elevator, as the City of Chicago ordinance was very strict not allowing ANY indoor smoking except in very specific circumstances (like in the Lounge).  

I walked down a dimly lit, dark wood paneled hallway for quite a ways with a few twists and turns until I saw the entrance to Iwan Ries.  No other businesses appeared to be located on the second floor, although there were a small number of unmarked doors, which I presumed one or two likely lead to the various Lounge rooms. Since I regrettably did not have sufficient time to have the Lounge experience, I paid minimal attention to these doors. 

Upon entry into the pleasantly large room that was Iwan Ries, I glanced around.  Three of the four walls were adorned with pipes and pipe tobaccos for sale, and the fourth wall had a glass wall and door in front of it, as it was an area housing cigars in a humidity controlled environment.  Chest high cabinets containing other pipes, pipe racks, lighters, tobaccos, etc stood in a complete circumference two all four walls (one set of cabinets was actually in front of the glass walled cigar humidor).  The Iwan Ries workers could easily navigate around in the isles between the cabinets and walls.  

On one walls cabinet tops there were displayed ~100-125 Dunhill pipes, all resting on their individual velvet carrying pouch.  It happened to be that my visit coincided with a yearly event where the Dunhill Pipes distributor would have a "White Dot" sale at Iwan Ries.  "White Dot" refers to the distinctive small, white dot that is on the shank of the stem of a Dunhill pipe and is a sort-of "logo" of the brand.  

I glanced through these "specials" a bit.  I have at least three Dunhill pipes and I like them a great deal.  Yet, in this "White Dot" event... the lion's share of the pipes were rusticated, tankard shaped pipes.  I am not really a fan of rusticated pipes (these are pipes with a purposely rough and bumpy texture to the surface of their bowl).  And, tankard shaped bowls also are not my favorite.  I much prefer the bowls of my pipes with a traditional smooth surface, and a globular or rounded bottom.  

But, on the three walls, there were MANY very beautiful pipes of the more traditional shapes and natural colors and traditional stains that I did like (virtually all the Dunhills were finished in black).  I kept looking at and admiring these various pipes on the walls.  

In the central area of the room there was a large expanse of shorter cabinets (roughly about kitchen counter height).  It encircled all four walls as well, and then had a smaller central area for a worker or two.  There was a floor to ceiling panel display in the center area that displayed more beautiful items, but had enough space so folks (workers) could navigate around all the cabinetry on all four sides.

A couple of individuals were chatting quietly over by the entrance to the cigar humidor area.  I had no real interest in cigars or the cigar humidor for this visit, so I began to examine some of the pipes, and pipe accoutrements displayed on and in these shorter, central cabinets.  From around the other side of the ceiling panel area, the sole worker out on the floor came around to talk with me.  

He was a fellow about my age, give or take a couple of years.  He had a large, heavy, grey beard and mustache like my own, except his was straight in texture, not wiry and bushy like my own.  He had an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth, and his mustache was deeply amber in color as is typical of folks very fond of cigars (pipe smokers, because of the different etiology of pipe smoking (the stem) tend to only acquire a gentle amber coloration or sometimes even minimal to no amber coloration of their mustache).  He was bald and was also rather short, probably at most 5'1" (~154 cm) and this gave him (to me anyhow) a bit of a gnome-like or elf-like appearance. 

"How may I help you?" he asked in a kind sounding voice.  

I told him my story about having been able to travel to Chicago for a conference, and that I wanted to be sure to visit Iwan Ries while here so I could see and experience the place.  

I also asked him if he was one of the lineage of the Ries family.  Members of the Ries family had worked at and owned the store since the 1850s.  It is the oldest continually owned and operated pipe shop in North America.  

"No, I'm not part of the blood line.  But, I am an "adoptee" as I have been working here for over 30 years."   

We chatted a bit more, and he told me about the "White Dot" sale, which I had wondered about.  He then asked me, "Anything specific you would like to see?"

I told him that my typical pattern when visiting new (to me) pipe shops was to look especially at the house blends of pipe tobacco, and I asked him to show me some of these blends and asked him which blends were the most popular.  

"Well, it depends, what do you like to smoke?"

I was NOT going to tell him, "Well, I stopped smoking my pipes around 5 years ago."  That would have felt extremely odd and embarrassing to say while perusing a pipe shop.  Instead, I told him that while I enjoyed all pipe tobaccos, I tended to especially enjoy "burley forward blends".  

He then asked, "What is your take on aromatics?"

I told him that I have smoked a lot of aromatics, and while I like them for their more pleasant "room note" for others around me, I tend to prefer the robust, burley flavor unadorned.  

He raised his eyebrows a bit and grinned, "I think, I know what you will really like, then."  He proceeded to focus my attention to two different blends.  "Of these two, the 'Three Star Blue' is the one I think you will especially enjoy. It is actually our best seller.  Its considered an aromatic because it does smell pleasant to other folks, but it has a nice, heavier tobacco flavor that is not disguised."

I looked at the label.  It read, "Iwan Ries' original, world-famous blend, Three Star Blue features toasted Burley and Bright Virginias, with just a touch of Black Cavendish, Perique, and Latakia. Topped with Ries' one-of-a-kind aroma, Three Star Blue has been one of the blender's best sellers since its inception — a pleasure to smoke and pleasing to those around you."

He proceeded to open a small jar which had an ounce or two of Three Star Blue, and let me smell its aroma.

It was truly beautiful in aroma.  "That DOES seem exactly like something I would like." I stated.  I then reached on the shelf and took down one of the smaller cans (7 oz).  "I will get this then."

"Sounds good..... you want to try a bowl?"

Now, MY eyebrows arched.

[I am being rather long winded, and will continue tomorrow.]

PipeTobacco

        

Usurped

All of my planned for extra time today for writing more about my Chicago trip was usurped by an unexpected, pre-Holiday Rodent Crisis (long story).  Now I must leave to get to my last Holiday Concert of the Season…. rather disheveled and unkempt.  

I theoretically have some time tomorrow to write about Chicago.

* 12 miles ran this morning.

* PCS = 8.5….. challenging, to say the least.

PipeTobacco 

Bon Vieux Temps - A

 

[In the following, my "tone" may be off a bit.  My thoughts and emotions about the following are rather all over the map.  In many ways I am not sure I know what to think about the following just yet.  My thoughts are still rather embryonic, and are marinating in the amniotic sac of growth.  My thoughts also vacillate back and forth from positive to negative, etc.]

My group of folks I was attached to at this conference are a nice enough bunch.  They hail from all sorts of regions across the US.  I do not know if it was purposeful on the part of the conference folks, or just happenstance.... but each group of five seemed to have a specific distribution of ages.... one "old guy" (or gal), one person appearing to be in their mid-40s to perhaps very early 50s, one person in their 30s, and two "youngsters" (probably late 20s).  In my group, as you can surmise.... I was apparently needed as the representative "old guy". 

 As you know from what I wrote about yesterday, it had been a rather intensive set of meetings most all of the afternoon on Friday and well into the evening on Friday.   As mentioned we ate dinner together Friday to continue working on topics of the meeting while in a restaurant Friday evening, and came back and worked some more.  Saturday's efforts started bright and early too.

Everyone in my group seemed to be of the "eager-beaver" type of mindset... meaning they wanted to work... and to work... and work some more.  The Energizer Bunny could have taken lessons from the folks in my group. I CAN and DO work hard.  BUT, I have a significant challenge with working in group settings for EXTENDED periods of time.  I begged off from going to lunch with my team members on Saturday.

Dammit!  I was in CHICAGO.  I can work non-stop at home.  

And, I am rather introverted by nature.... so too many "group" activities wipe me out emotionally and physically.  I NEEDED some time by myself.  NEEDED to NOT have to be "on" for a while.  While it may sound inconsistent, but walking about in the big city, although crowded, felt like some of the much needed "alone" time I was craving.  

So, I promised my group members that I would be back at the started time of the afternoon session at 1:45pm.  I found out later that the others in my group ended up eating lunch in the restaurant at the conference hotel and continued to work, but, the best I can say is c'est la vie. 

In my mind's eye as I had been imagining this trip... I had hopes to visit the Iwan Ries Tobacco Shop and the Hemingway Home Museum in Oak Park.  And, I also very much needed to attend Mass as well.

Well, with the schedule of the conference, and the extremely "gun ho!" nature of my comrades in my group, I knew I really did not have a helluva lot of (if any) free time.  With aspects of the conference and its "group work" extending late into the evening again on Saturday, I realized it also shot-to-hell my pipe dream (pun intended) of buying a day pass membership to the palatial Iwan Ries Smoking Lounge, having a few drinks, smoking my pipe, and just relaxing for a few hours.   

I had to think things through carefully in order to at least have SOME modicum of fun on this damn trip.  The conference was set to end early Sunday morning.  That did not leave too much time before my flight.  I needed, at the very least, to attend Mass before I took the "L" back to O'Hare.  And, unfortunately, Iwan Ries was closed on Sunday.  

So, at ~2:00am this morning, I was mapping out a plan.  The best I could come up with is as follows:

Sunday, if I high-tailed it out of the conference as quickly as possible, I could hop on the "L" and likely reach Oak Park just in time for 11:00am Mass at St. Edmund Catholic Church.  And, immediately after Mass, I could easily and quickly walk over to the Hemingway Home Museum and get a tour of the place.  With tours running ~90 minutes or so, I thought I might be pressing it a bit, but I thought take the tour and then I could then hop back on the "L" and take the train to O'Hare with just enough time to get my ticket, get through security, and get to the appropriate gate for my flight.  

The above plan seemed reasonably possible to do.  However, it left out my other hope.... to at least VISIT Iwan Ries.  

With my already knowing I would be working all day and into the night on Saturday with my group, I knew there was no longer any hope of spending a few hours in the lounge at Iwan Ries.  I felt a lot of mixed emotions about that realization.  

Before I knew the intensity of this conference schedule, I was still hemming-and-hawing about whether I should have a pipe while there or not. But, now, I realized that option was gone.  And from what I read, the smoking policy of Chicago strictly forbids smoking indoors anywhere (from what I read, Iwan Ries had to get special permission for the Lounge space, and there could be no sales of any sort in that space.  The Lounge had to be separate from the store itself). 

Having the option of potentially smoking  my pipe in the lounge taken away... felt quite disheartening to me.... even though I felt undecided about whether I was going to ultimately smoke my pipe or not.  With the indecisiveness on whether or not I should smoke my pipe in the lounge off the table...  the decision on whether to smoke my pipe was no longer resting on my shoulders as it had been determined by City of Chicago edict.

So, I got up Saturday feeling a bit frustrated.  Fortunately, the hotel's fitness center was open 24 hours.  I got up at 5:00am and ran an extra fast and hard 3.1 miles (5 km) (Note.... I had completed my goal mileage on Friday, so I did not have to run at all.). I thought it would help me dissipate my frustration.  

The run did ease my frustration in a way.  While running, I came up with an idea in my mind.  I decided that no matter what "the group" wanted to do at lunch (who am I kidding, they were going to want to WORK), I was going to take that time for me, and go to Iwan Ries. 

Not being able to ultimately smoke my pipe in the Lounge actually helped with my resolve to make the decision to say to my group members (this is in my mind, of course) "To hell with working through lunch!" a bit easier.  In reality,  I told "the group" that I needed to run an "important errand" with the very limited time I had in our lunch break. 

I did, though want to at least SEE the INSIDE of this historic and beautiful tobacco shop. To ME, this WAS important.  This became my goal during the lunch break. 

As soon as the lunch beak was announced,  I was hoofing it out the door as fast as I could, stocking hat and gloves already in place on my head and hands.  And my backpack was strewn across my shoulder.  

PipeTobacco 

 

 

Friday... Tea Totalers (Sigh)

 

A damn busy day ahead of me at the U, so I thought I would take one quick stab at some rapid, free-form writing to at least get some of my journey written down here.  I suspect it may take a few days overall.

When I arrived Friday, I was on a rather tight time frame.  I landed in O'Hare, and took the Blue Line (of the "L") to Downtown Chicago to the conference hotel.  I checked in and had ~2.5 hours before the work would begin.  I quickly pulled my running shoes and shorts and t-shirt out of the bag and proceeded to fully disrobe so I could put on my running gear and go find the fitness room to get my miles done.   I was on the 16th floor, and the fitness center was apparently on the 2nd floor.  

I got there, and the fitness room was pleasantly large for hotel standards.  It had at least 10 treadmills, and a whole helluva lot of other sundry equipment.  But I only needed the treadmill.  Fortunately, it was also rather sparsely filled with exercising folks.  Only three of the treadmills were in use.  I was easily able to get on one of the damnable beasts and have at least one empty treadmill on either side of me.  This is helpful from me as I feel very self conscious about running when people are about, for it brings back a lot of memories of my former very heavy self (for most of my life I was very heavy, and at one time weighed just a bit under 300 pounds. It was about 15 years ago I shed 130 pounds.... but I think I will be unlikely to be able to shed the emotions and mindset of being labeled a "fatso".  I always feel intimidated around real atheletes.  That is why I almost always run alone).  

I hoof out my 11 miles (~18 km).  For the first few minutes I have the treadmill set on a low speed (~4 mph (~6.5 kmph)) so I can get my bearing on how to run on this treadmill's track...  safely without falling/tripping and breaking my head.  But after about 5 minutes I have brought my speed up to a comfortable 7 mph (~11.25 kmph) which is a good, casual running pace for me most days. 

The only time I wear "tighter fitting" clothing is while running.  And, I do this only with my shirt because I have found over the years that looser shirts will cause rubbing and chaffing on my nipples as I run, and that is not particularly comfortable.  I will sometimes wear two shirts (one tight and one loose) for warmth or to protect from the sun.  If I have two shirts, the outer one is comfortably loose.  At home, I actually have a dispenser of nipple protectors that are sold online and in some athletic stores.  These protectors look like circular bandaids.  And, I think this is what they actually are.  And, they work well and I often use them even when wearing a tight running shirt, because there is still some movement that occurs from swinging my arms while running.  But, with this budget flight, and my having to carry everything I needed in a simple backpack..... I had only 1 exercise shirt and did not bring any of the nipple protectors. The only difficulty with these protectors are in the discomfort of removing them. They stick quite well, and trying to remove them is painful because they seem to attach especially well to my chest hair and do not want to give up that hold.  I will sometimes leave them on for a few days (like a band-aid) to avoid that discomfort.  

After 11 miles, I was soaked through with sweat in all my exercise clothes.  As I wiped down the machine afterwards, a fellow commented to me about my "great beard".  That made me chuckle and I thanked him.  I told my wife about the comment when I called her on the phone later.  I could hear her rolling her eyes at me through the phone line. :)   

I quickly went back to the room and I took a two-minute shower.  I quickly jumped into my clothes and got into the Conference Room with about 10 minutes to spare.  

I met my team mates for this "adventure" and then we proceeded to hear the opening talk by the host.  He then guided us through a skeletal outline of what we were hoping/expecting to accomplish by the end of Friday.  

My team mates and I worked diligently through the afternoon up until the point of Dinner Break.  I had thought (hoped) we would break apart for dinner and then reconvene afterwords. But, unfortunately, most of my team was extremely (overly) "gun-ho!" about wanting to work together THROUGH dinner. This meant we would have go to a restaurant agreeable to everyone.  So we went to eat at an Italian place called "Carlucci Restaurant" which was "ok".  I have had plenty of Italian food, so I was actually hoping for something more "different" and "exotic".  But, oh well.  

It was fine working with the folks through dinner.  But, I did feel a bit sad about the fact that apparently the folks on my team may all be "tea totalers," for when the waitress came up asking for our drink orders while we looked at the menu, everyone chose water, coffee, or soda.  I am used to having a beer or two or a glass of wine or two at these sorts of things as a treat or perk of the travel.  But, since no one else was having a drink, I thought it would be bad form for me to have one myself.  I did not need to be perceived as if I were a drunken old sot by folks on my team.  

I would have been far more enthused with a cuisine like Ethiopian or Pakistani or Thai or Turkish food or something similarly less widely available.  I wanted a food I do not have as frequent access to as so many wonderfully diverse cuisines are  available in Chicago.  And, I would have also enjoyed a beer or two, truth be told. 

But, it was fine.  The dinner session was productive.  And, we worked well into the late hours of the evening when we returned from dinner as well.

• Ran 11 miles this morning.
• PCS = 8.5.  Very, very strong desire. Very, very challenging.
  

PipeTobacco

 

Knapp

I arrived back home on Sunday.  

I DO have a HUGE array of things I want to write about concerning my trip to Chicago.  Some good, some bad, and others in-between.

Unfortunately, the trip.... and the timing of the trip... together have put me "under the gun" so-to-speak with regards to all manner of my U work and I have NOT had any time (until this very brief post) to spend writing.  Even now, I should still be doing other things.  But I felt compelled to at least take this brief stab at getting a post up:

• 11 treadmill miles on Friday in Chicago to get to my 55 miles so I was done for the week.
• 11 track miles Monday.
• 11 track miles Tuesday.
• 11 track miles this morning.
• "Under the gun" to get my four final exams up-to-snuff AND to the Printing Office with enough time for them go get them printed and back to me before the final exam times.  
• Working at squeezing and condensing a few lectures into a limited amount of remaining time in two of my classes...  as I was perhaps a tad too verbose about some earlier subjects and am a little bit behind.
• Writing of a few evaluation reports for some new faculty.  I am on couple of evaluation teams this year, and unfortunately a few of the folks who are on these teams with me have been lackadaisical about getting me their comments/insights... so now I am having to write these damn reports that are due NOW instead of when I had wanted to do so earlier in the semester.
• An abstract deadline is very eminent for a meeting I want my research students to present at.  They have been somewhat slow to write their abstract submissions, and I have been spending a lot of time trying to wrangle them into getting me at least DRAFTS of their abstracts. 
  

And now, I have to go.... to my afternoon class.  No rest for the wicked, I guess.  

I do have so much to share about my trip.  But, it will have to be hopefully in the next few days.  "Knapp" on the title of this entry is German, for "brief".

PipeTobacco

Going to Pack Tonight

 

Early flight tomorrow.  I will be packing later tonight.  I will be packing light, however.  The stupid damn airline I am on now charges a helluva FINE to check in a bag of luggage.  I refuse to call it a "fee".  I will have only one bag over my shoulder as I board the metal beast. 

I am going to need:

• one set of clothes
• one novel to read
• toothbrush/toothpaste/dental floss
• bite guard
• laptop computer from the U
• running shoes
• running clothes (serves double duty as makeshift pajamas)
• one pipe (a beautiful, no-name "basket" pipe I have had for ~35 years)
• lighter (Zippo Pipe Lighter, my Dad's, estimated he got this one ~1960 or so from the etched fly fisherman image on the case)

Everything else will be on my body.  I will wear long underwear under my clothes on the plane, so I have something warm enough to walk around in the December air of Chicago. I will wear a winter coat, have a stocking hat in my coat pocket, a snap brim hat on my head, gloves in my pocket, phone in my pocket, etc.  Of course, my wallet, etc goes and other usual items I always have. 

I am not bringing any pipe tobacco.  I figure if I DO get to stop and partake at Iwen Ries (still juggling timing and also debating internally the risks) I would want to buy pipe tobacco from them and that is what I would indulge in at the lounge. 

The TSA folks will undoubtedly pull apart my bag when they see the pipe and lighter in there.  They would unzip my tobacco pouch too when I would have one.  However, security was not always like this. It really has only been the last 10-15 years that the security folks would want to "further examine" the things (especially my smoking items) I would bring on the plane.  

• Ran 11 miles (~18 km).  Probably at the hotel tomorrow morning, I will run on a treadmill.  It will be nice if there is a view of the city skyline.  I do not think I want to get my limited warm clothes all sweat soaked by using them to run outside, even though running in the city IS a lot of fun usually.  
• PCS = 7.  It is just a VERY long cycle of high PCS numbers lately.  Staying at these higher numbers is rather taxing after a while.  

PipeTobacco
 

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