My penultimate step father, when I was in college was a true son of the hills named Durwood.
Why my beautiful mother ever dated the man twice, much less took him as her third husband, is a mystery I’ll never solve, but it was so.
His sole valuable possession in this life was a brand new Chevrolet pickup, he made payments on, and he lived in a house his sister owned near Everton.
But many times Durwood would wax eloquent about his prized tree dog, Old Speedy, who had died at a ripe old age.
His brother in law and all his kin agreed that Old Speedy was a phenomenal tree dog, both day and night. Durwood had a wall full of plaques and trophies, won by Old Speedy.
Durwood would always say the Good Lord only allows a man one Old Speedy during a lifetime. He never again owned another dog, he just couldn’t, after Old Speedy.
I came home from college one weekend and Mama was infuriated with Durwood, for some trivial cause, demanding he leave, and she wanted to keep the nice suit she’d bought him.
I persuaded her that his kinfolks would think badly of her for keeping Durwood’s suit, and she allowed me to take it to him, and he drove away in his new Chevrolet pickup. I only saw him once after that, with another lady almost as beautiful as my Mama who did seem much less high tempered. He repeated his stories about Old Speedy, and his new girlfriend only smiled and beamed at him.
Today, I got in a pipe that is going to be my Old Speedy.
This Marxman has the tightest grained Algerian briar imaginable.
Except for a few fills, this pipe had to be intended as a 400.
It’s huge, as new condition, perfectly made, and I couldn’t make up a lie about how well it smokes as good as the truth. A pure asbestos pipe could not smoke cooler. It needed no break in. The smoke coming out the hand made stem is fragrant, delicious and rich beyond description.
Durwood would be proud of me, he surely would.
But maybe there is another one out there even better, you know?
Why my beautiful mother ever dated the man twice, much less took him as her third husband, is a mystery I’ll never solve, but it was so.
His sole valuable possession in this life was a brand new Chevrolet pickup, he made payments on, and he lived in a house his sister owned near Everton.
But many times Durwood would wax eloquent about his prized tree dog, Old Speedy, who had died at a ripe old age.
His brother in law and all his kin agreed that Old Speedy was a phenomenal tree dog, both day and night. Durwood had a wall full of plaques and trophies, won by Old Speedy.
Durwood would always say the Good Lord only allows a man one Old Speedy during a lifetime. He never again owned another dog, he just couldn’t, after Old Speedy.
I came home from college one weekend and Mama was infuriated with Durwood, for some trivial cause, demanding he leave, and she wanted to keep the nice suit she’d bought him.
I persuaded her that his kinfolks would think badly of her for keeping Durwood’s suit, and she allowed me to take it to him, and he drove away in his new Chevrolet pickup. I only saw him once after that, with another lady almost as beautiful as my Mama who did seem much less high tempered. He repeated his stories about Old Speedy, and his new girlfriend only smiled and beamed at him.
Today, I got in a pipe that is going to be my Old Speedy.
This Marxman has the tightest grained Algerian briar imaginable.
Except for a few fills, this pipe had to be intended as a 400.
It’s huge, as new condition, perfectly made, and I couldn’t make up a lie about how well it smokes as good as the truth. A pure asbestos pipe could not smoke cooler. It needed no break in. The smoke coming out the hand made stem is fragrant, delicious and rich beyond description.
Durwood would be proud of me, he surely would.
But maybe there is another one out there even better, you know?
