My perspective is from someone who has yet to even smoke a pipe. 5 more days!! I quit smoking nails 7 years ago. I'm hard headed so when I decided to quit I just quit and never looked back. I gave it the old pros-vs-cons and the cons won. Primarily due to the exorbitant cost, followed by a sense that I really didn't like what I was smoking. It just felt cheap and common; no real personality to it anymore which, for me anyway, removed all purpose. I felt like a sucker shilled by a camel in a leather jacket and sunglasses. BUT... I LOVE TO SMOKE!!! For some reason pipes never even crossed my mind as an alternative, and I only smoked cigars once in a great while; again due to the consideration of cost. It seems I have an affliction acquired from my Mother of having champagne taste supported by a Budweiser budget. If you laid out before me a dozen samples of anything of quality, priced lowest to highest my eye will inevitable be drawn to the most expensive choice. I really don't understand it, and find it to be a bit of a curse as I've yet to find a proper benefit of the ailment other than being forced to choose my indulgences carefully with respect to my finances. I am relieved to not have a penchant for sports cars.
The owner of this ranch I'm caretaking for has a black and white photo of his very distinguished looking Father in the main room. Time had faded his hair to grey; the years having carved deep furrows of wisdom into his face, and flooded his eyes with easily perceptible knowledge. In his mouth hangs a squashed bulldog pipe of unknown craftsmanship that looks like worn leather to me; almost as if the artisan patterned it after the smokers own skin. So naturally does it hang from his face I have come to believe that it must have been a permanent appendage. He has an ever so slight, and revealing smile akin to the cat who ate the bird. A hint of a grin exposing a man with a secret knowledge seemingly attached directly to that pipe. As though the memories of his life would not be worth recounting without it, or perhaps their review was somehow enhanced by the use of it. I believe this is where my romance with the pipe began.
After reflecting on this image for some time I was moved to investigate this pipe further as I continued to find it more and more striking. To me it seemed a true piece of art. As I viewed pipe after pipe I began to romanticize the idea of pipe smoking. I read articles on tobacco, pipes and pipe making, stories of how current makers became involved, the incredible detail involved in the craftsmanship. I re-discovered the personality of smoking, and created an atmosphere of nostalgia in my mind that fosters the return of it as a relaxing, and reflective activity. To be included in it's rich history even if only by mere participation in it. From the men (and women respectively) throughout history who smoked them, to the men throughout history who made them, and not least the mannerly countenance I have found on forums such as this have lead me to believe it is a worthy group to be alloyed to, to take benefit of, and possibly contribute to by it's respectful promotion.
As I said I am hard headed,(and admittedly far too verbose, with no apologies for either) so even though I have yet to partake in the experience my mind is made up; I am certain pipe smoking will endear itself to me as one who reflects on life like a full time job, deeply enjoys my selective indulgences, and is excited to have once again found a way to simply smoke.
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