The "Hunger From Within"

Tomorrow is the day I go to attend the Retiree's Cigar Group.... and I am truly looking forward to it.... although I am going to arrive later than I would like due to this semester's schedule... and I am not sure who, if any will be there.  I HOPE at LEAST one or two of the gang are still hanging around so I can chat with them.  We shall see, however.  I know SOME of the fellows will have already left, which is sad, but understandable.  Retirees LIKE their plans and schedules.  I am only a "Apprentice Retiree" in the group.... and I regrettably cannot get there at the optimum time this semester.  

But, even though I have this event to look forward to tomorrow.... it does not quell nor dissipate the desire I have for a pipe.  When I DID indulge in a bowl of pipe tobacco back at my Dad's 102nd birthday.... the pipe was profoundly beautiful and actually quite hard to describe.... at least to describe ADEQUATELY.  Most folks would (perhaps) logically presume a cigar and a pipe are pretty much the same damn thing.  But, I can attest that this is not the case.  Please do not get me wrong..... I have grown to appreciate a cigar from being in the Retiree's Cigar Group.  But.... a cigar is really of little or no consequence when it is compared to a pipe.  I do not know how to explain it, as I cannot actually figure it out myself.  I just "know" it is true... at least for me.

Why am I bringing this up now?  Well.... the "hunger from within" for a pipe never actually abates.  But... in the ebbing-and-flowing of time it does undulate some.  Since this past Saturday, and even more elevated beginning this Monday.... the desire for a pipe had moved into a deeply strong position in my mind.  As you all know, I have smoked a pipe for a very long time….. since I was just a kid in fact.  But, a part of why I am again in the midst of an especially strong missing for the pipe is that it may be the association I had formed as a young, wet-behind-the ears prof long, long ago when I would be extremely nervous and jittery before heading off to class to expound on whatever subject I was teaching.  I remember how exquisite it was at the conclusion of lecturing for the day, where I would go back to my office, pack a bowl of whichever pipe struck my fancy, and just relax from the day.... and indulge fully and completely in that pipe.  It was so beyond beautiful.  It was akin to a celebratory hug that I would give myself for successfully surviving another (new for me then) day of teaching.   The celebratory nature of the pipe never left me.... even though I am no longer flummoxed or worried about being able to be successful in my lectures anymore.  At the start of this semester, I am feeling the loss of that “hug”.  

But, the beauty of that rewarding delight which is found in the bowl of my pipe.... that has been consistent and perpetual.  

PipeTobacco