The Myrtle Beach area was full of song last night; specifically, the song of power lines humming and crackling with unusual, and rather ominous volume. It is not known to me whether this was a result of just the right combination of heat and humidity itself (namely, a great deal of both), or a secondary effect, caused by everyone cranking their AC and climate control units on full blast. Accompanying this strange music were a cavalcade of rushing ambulances and, for some reason I am unaware of, a fireworks show. (That latter of which I got to witness while sitting in traffic on the main drag - which I must say is a lot better than just staring at the car in front of you. To this end, I would recommend to anyone pressuring their local city council into establishing a "Gridlock Pyrotechnics Response Team" - better to spend our tax money on entertaining explosions than on blue-ribbon councils to establish the parameters for selecting a focus group to assess the public's opinions regarding the under-representation of the tufted titmouse in modern popular media.)

All that having been said, I doubt it was anything compared to what Sykes, Ted, Bill, and Susan are experiencing in Las Vegas, that sweltering desert metropolis so many have compared to the rebirth of a certain ancient pair of notoriously, you might even say, biblically, hedonistic city-states. Granted, Sykes & company are attending a show for pipe and tobacco aficionados, who do tend to be a rather more refined, traditional lot. They should be safe, no doubt, or... no. Who are we kidding  - It's Vegas. No matter how much they may try to maintain decorum, they will be at the mercy of maniacs.

But on with the update: Today we have for you - a plethora of briars from Stanwell, Savinelli, Peterson, and Brebbia; meerschaums from IMP; artisanal pipes from Kevin Arthur, Ser Jacopo, and Ardor; high-grades from Tsuge, Lasse, Knudsen, and Nielsen; last but not least, a good five-dozen-plus estate pipes, ranging from the artful to the utilitarian, the everyday to the antique.

Eric Squires: Copywriter