since we're here, I'll tell you a story. I'm Iranian, and I left the country in 1992, around the age of 14. It wasn't the tough place most of middle east is. Of course it is more restrictive than the west. But for the most part, they didn't mistreat Christians. They considered us an ancient minority, and even showed respect. anyways, one thing they did not allow in public was pipe smoking. they said it was a western practice, smoke hookah instead. But people still smoked at home, and nobody minded. I had a grandpa that lived with us. He always smoked this Savinelli pipe. It smelled so good I used to sit at his feet as he smoked. I was 5, or 6. He stopped smoking it because my mom nagged him, and so he gave it to my dad. My dad ignored the nagging and smoked it inside for a few years. then, We moved to Northen part of the country to a beautiful ancestral village and I never saw that pipe again. He stopped smoking the pipe. We lived in a Christian village on our own apple orchard which was next to a tobacco farm. People were all somehow related, and the village is a 2000 year old Christian village. people there smoked a lot. some smoked pipes, some hookah, some cigarettes. our neighbor tobacco farmer always dried the tobacco and gave my dad and my grandpa a bundle each year. They smoked it as cigarettes.
Anyways, we left the country sometime after Iran/Iraq war (we had a cousin who was a pow in this war, as soon as he was returned back to us late in 1992, we left), and arrived in the U.S.
I lost my grandpa, and dad few years ago. One day, my mom told me to go into grandpa's old bedroom and take what I wanted in that room, she is trying to clear out my granddad's old stuff. sitting in one of the drawers was the Savinelli. That same pipe I remember from childhood. still with a wooden filter in it. the thing is, last time this pipe was used was in 1983. well, my sentimental nature made me start smoking. those were great men.