What Hurts Often Instructs
Too often we never really appreciate something until it is gone. Right now, for example, I'm missing my sense of taste, which has completely abandoned me as of about two minutes ago, when Adam gave me a small lozenge from a packet in his desk drawer. Its color was a bright candy orange, its scent fruity and sweet, and its effects akin to gargling novocain. This wasn't a practical joke, mind you; he had a perfectly good reason, which also happens to be the reason I'm writing this. I've had a sore throat for days. And that has meant no smoking.
Not a puff, not a pinch of flake, not even a single draw on the most diminutive of cigarillos. It is, suffice to say, a real drag - especially since I've long found a good dose of nicotine to be uniquely helpful when engaging in any form of writing. Don't even ask me when the last time I had a thick, bloody, char-blackened steak was. What to do? Gargle salt water and wait it out, and steal glances to my left at the zip-lock bag I've stuffed with maduros, habanos, and coffee beans, knowing they'll taste all the better in the end, for having had to do without. Ditto to my right, where my pipe rack and numerous stacks of tins are haphazardly lined in array.
And furthermore, I can make an opportunity of it to advise anyone else to enjoy abusing their good health for as long as they have it. That's what it's there for: enjoyment. Never taking it out and giving it a playful thrashing is like owning your childhood dream car and never allowing it to leave the garage under its own power. Too many years of that and what do you wind up with? A mechanical neurotic; a basketcase of desiccated gaskets that, if finally taken out for a run will, at best, stumble twenty feet in fits and starts like a senile dog, shortly before finally seizing up in great billow of smoke. Better to drive it while you still have the chance, and keep things well-lubricated and limber with use.
On that note, it's one to our update - in which we find plenty to enjoy indeed. Artisans Paolo Becker, Michal Novak, Kevin Arthur, and Massimiliano Rimensi, a.k.a. Il Duca, all bring us fresh creations in a variety of materials, IMP presents us with a dozen new meerschaums, and Brebbia, Neerup, Savinelli, and Peterson all supply us with plenty of briar. Plus, of course, there's another big batch of estates awaiting perusal: a full seventy-two in all.

Eric Squires: Copywriter
























