I friend of mine sent me sent me a link to a “magnum’ on eBay – a Cellini with a 2” bowl.   My friend complained about a number of listings with the term Magnum in the heading that were definitely small or average sized pipes.   And this, of course, was not the first time this has happened and it will not be the last.

The big question is – what exactly is a Magnum?

Well, there is the original or ‘classical’ use of the term Magnum in pipes lexicology – which referred to the Dunhill extra large (ironically Dunhill, itself, called them Giants).  However, over the years, like so many other terms of art, the usage has changed over time and that needs to be explored.   So I think the best way to deal with this is to divide the discussion into two (2) Parts.

Part 1 – The Dunhill Magnum – I started smoking pipes in 1971 and in 1975 I began collecting pipes.  In 1979, I found out about The Pipe Smoker’s Ephemeris and things radically changed.  I wrote letters to fellow Coterians (remember only snail mail), they wrote back and my pipe horizons really expanded.  Quickly fellow collectors found out that I liked big pipes and I was informed about the world of large pipes which included the Dunhill Magnum.

Actually the only pipe, at that time, the only pipe I ever heard referred to as a Magnum was the oversized Shell (black sandblast) Dunhill pipe produced in the 1920’s and 1930’s.   There were so few examples known that most folks thought that a Dunhill magnum meant a 1926 ‘120’ full bent shape.

The first time I ever ‘saw’ a Dunhill magnum was in 1980.  I used to visit many pipe stores in NYC including Elliot Nachwalter’s Pipeworks.  The guys in the store showed me a photo of a Dunhill magnum – a huge full bent that was held, cupped in a woman’s hands.  Elliot said they would get the pipe in soon and I would have first crack at buying it for $500!  I was so excited and waited and waited but unfortunately the magnum never came!

Then I heard about a collector Dr. Phil Bennett who had three (3) Dunhill magnums – more than any other collector!  Phil was kind enough to share a lot of information with me about magnums and high end collectibles in general.  In 1982 I went to a special ‘invitation only’ pipe show in St. Louis.  Phil asked me if I would like to privately see the magnums prior to the show.  With my friend Ed Lehman, I got to see my first Dunhill magnums in person and I was inspired!   The 1926 bent classic ‘120’ shaped had a 2 13/16” bowl and about 1 .65” diameter; the billiard was a fat LB shaped piece with a huge silver band covering the date and the 1939 bent was a massive 1939 ball/billiard with a  deep, dimpled birdseye blast with a near 3” bowl.

At the time, it was thought Dunhill magnums came in 2 ‘sizes’ – the regular full sized magnum that was 2 3/4″ to 2 7/8” with a 1.65” -1.75+” diameter and the pocket magnum 2 5/8” to 2 13/16” tall with a 1.5”- 1.6” diameter.  A few years later an even smaller magnum came along – about 2 1/2” – and was fatter than an LC shaped pipe.  So there were differences in height but also in bowl diameter –the larger pieces were thicker, more massive pipes.   (Much later, in 2001, the ‘double magnums’ OD (Own design) pieces came to the marketplace.)

You have to realize that a Dunhill Magnum was being compared to standard sized Dunhill pipes of the 1920’s through about 1962 (the unofficial ‘cut-off’ date used by Collectors for designated premier collectible pieces).   Most of these standard Dunhill pipes had bowls that were under 2” tall, so a Dunhill with a 2 3/4″ bowl was gigantic.  Actually the largest standard shaped pipes of the day were ODA sized pipes – 2 1/4″ high and about 1 1/2” bowl diameter and in 1975 the even bigger Group 6 pipes were produced.   In 1978, Dunhill began producing oversized pipes XL Hand Turned Root Briar Collectors some with tall bowls but these were never considered ‘magnums’.

Recently, a eBay reseller who purchased a Dunhill magnum wrote me and said, “The magnum arrived and I think it is as well grained as a pipe that size can be. The bowl is not all that large. Using my calipers, it is 1/8″ short of 3″.”  I have written before that the ‘ordinary’ Dunhill magnum has ‘shrunk’ and it is because in general the average pipe produced today has gotten comparatively larger.

The grade stamping (nomenclature) on the ‘ordinary’ Dunhill magnum pipes is simply Shell.  One has to remember that the most important reason for Dunhill nomenclature is for pricing and for their return policy – not for collectability.  If you look at the old Dunhill catalogues (like the 1928 reprint of About Smoke) all of the smooth pipes, for instance, are all priced equally regardless of he size.  Back in 1928, a small shape 53 bent and a giant LC bent cost the same.

The late John Loring and I had many discussions about Dunhill pipes and, in particular, magnums.  While Dunhill magnums were never shown in any Dunhill catalogue, we both thought that because of their very limited production and, like their smaller brethren, all ‘standard’ magnums were sold at only one price so there was not need for special price stamping.

This one price theory is also supported by certain Parker catalogues from the period 1926 to 1837 that actually show a Giant (‘magnum”) bent and there is only one price.  It is interesting to note these Parker catalogues are for dealers – and is thought these giants were meant for display – not resale.  However, the catalogue also indicates the popularity of these Giants so obviously retail customers bought them.

In 2001, the first of what I will call the Dunhill ‘Double’ magnums came to the light – the huge OD (Own Design) series.  These OD pipes are much, much larger than the standard Dunhill magnum – bowls can be as tall as 3 3/4” tall or as broad as 3 3/4′ bowl diameter.   Only four have come to light so far.

The question I am always asked is – how many Magnums were made?  At one time (about 10 years ago) I wrote perhaps 200 were made based on certain assumptions– but who knows – there are no records or other paperwork existing as any such records were destroyed during WW 11.   It is also must be taken into account that up until the 1970’s/1980’s folks regularly used to throw their old pipes so who knows how many actually made their way to the trash heap.  OTOH, Dunhills magnums were often viewed by family members, because of their size, as something special, so maybe more than normal survived.

Anyway, based upon my 35+ years of collecting – here is a list of known magnums:

Postscript In 1983/84, a collector commissioned a pipemaker to make some magnum sized pipes that were stamped with Dunhill patents and white dots in the stem.   The most famous fake is massive, extra long Canadian featured on the cover of a 1984 publication of The Pipe Collector International (PCI) magazine.  Three quick points to tell if a pipe may be a fake– 1) the stems on the fake Dunhill’s do not have an ivory dots; 2) the patents on the pipes never have the little year/date stamp and 3) the walls of the bowls are thick and the tobacco chambers are quite narrow.    In addition, John Loring also stamped on X on the D in Dunhill on suspected fakes.

John Loring wrote an interesting missive (that I privately collaborated with him) on the topic of these ‘fake’ magnums and other Dunhills.   http://loringpage.com/pipearticles/80s%20Fakes.htm

Around 2000/2001, I began discussing with Howard Smith of Dunhill Limited about creating a new ‘modern’ Dunhill magnum (Giant).    Howard and I talked about the stamping, the size requirements, etc.   In 2003 Dunhill made small series of magnum (“giant”) bents that came with fitted Ventage cases (leather over wood with a small hole above the bowl so the pipe can aerate.)  Initially in 2003, Dunhill marketed about 8 Shell bents and then over the next two years about another 20 were released in different finishes than the originally – Tanshell, Bruyere, and Amber Root (I never saw or heard of a Root).  In 2006, Dunhill released a series of magnum Shell stack billiards with long flowing stems – the pipes were over 10” in length – also with a fitted case.

Since 2006, Dunhill has periodically released magnum (giant) billiards but without the fitted case.  This is problematic because other than the grade stamp “Shell” there is no nomenclature on the pipe itself to indicate it is a magnum.  With a case at least there was an indication the pipe was special piece.  The cost of say a Shell magnum is about 6 times greater than the HT XL Collector but I have seen Collectors that are as a large (if not larger than) the ‘magnums’.

Part 2 – stay tuned!

Anyway, good puffing to all!

**********

    Raise your hand if you’ve had the following experience: While visiting a tourist 
destination in a foreign country, you spot a souvenir of some kind at a street-side stand
 that piques your interest. Remembering the most important lesson you learned about 
shopping while traveling at locales such as this, you start haggling with the vendor. 
After some negotiation, you manage to talk the price down by 50%. “I am awesome!”, 
you think, admiring your new purchase…but only until you get back on the tour bus 
and a fellow traveler shows you the exact same item for which he paid half what you did.

     Many years ago, before the turn of the last decade, in the year 2006, an event occurred that would shape the future of pipe history. A soon-to-be pipe legend named Bruce Weaver was eating a ballpark frank from his local deli, Castello’s. In his gustatory enthusiasm he squeezed a little too hard on the soft bun and precipitated the palette of his condiments on to his new starched white button-down shirt. This spray of primary and secondary colors fanned out across the cotton/poly blend like the mad genius brush strokes of a 50’s action painter. Weaver looked down at his newly decorated garment and exclaimed, “Here I am, 55 years old and here’s what I have to show for it!”

Many men would have packed it in at this point, but Weaver, full of spit and vinegar (much of it from the collection of sauces and relishes), decided at that moment that he would one day create a pipe that immortalized this turning point in this life and that he would call it the Castello 55.

I am telling you this inspiring story because I have recently come into possession of this masterpiece nearly 5 years in the making. I cannot express to you how fortunate I am to own this vision of greatness. It is very important to me that you all come to terms with the fact that I, not you, own this pipe. Weaver himself has said to me that he believes this to be not only his finest work, but perhaps the single greatest achievement in human history.

As one gazes upon this artis-anal epiphany one sees the tension between the forces of light and dark, the jutting jaw signifying resolve in the face of the mustard spill of life. Indeed, the mustard and ketchup motif carries over into the wash of yellows and reds which dances across this briar palette like wounded marmots. The surface of this pipe is a rough-hewn statement that echoes the weave of rugged cotton/poly blends. Weaver truly has a no iron approach to his art.

Several collectors have approached me offering to trade box-loads of Bo Nordh’s for this pipe and I have merely shaken my head in pity. Such are the false hopes of misguided amateurs. I am, of course, sharing this story with you, not to cause bitter envy, but to give you even more reason to want to buy me a drink when next we meet, oh brothers of wood and leaf!

If you assume that by definition a pipe maker must be an enthusiastic pipe smoker, you’re fooling
yourself. Your favorite artisan might actually be an avid consumer of cigarettes or even a non-
smoker. Sure, at a pipe show he might clench one of his briars between his teeth, but it’ll be out
of a sense of duty rather than pleasure. Mind you, there’s worse. One day I got a call from an
amateur carver who bluntly asked for my public endorsement for the embarrassingly ugly kitsch
he was producing. During conversation he admitted that he never ever smoked one of his clumsy
creations. In short, it seems naive to presume that all pipe makers are expert pipe smokers.

Granted, not all the engineers and mechanics at the Ferrari plant need to drive one of those
legendary racing cars in order to be able to build high performance automobiles. And yet it is
my firm belief that a pipe maker, any pipe maker, should smoke a pipe. His own, obviously, and
those of his competitors. A pipe is not a mere inanimate and standardized object. It’s a breathing
organism with a personality of its own which is the result of the combination of an impressive series
of variables. Each and every block of briar that is transformed into a pipe produces its very own
taste. A pipe is like a cheese : in a joint effort, man and nature manage to turn a single commodity
into an infinite variety of finished products, each with its highly individual character. Now, it goes
without saying that the industrial manufacturers of camembert as well as the small-scale producers
of raw milk goat cheese systematically and conscientiously taste the fruits of their efforts. These
tastings even constitute the basis of quality control. To taste is to ensure customer satisfaction.
Cheese makers are well aware of this.

The crusts of most mass-produced hard cheeses are covered with a fine layer of plastic. It’s
hygienic, it preserves, it protects. Nevertheless, these aseptic cheeses look disappointingly pitiful
next to those with natural crusts of which the multitude of colors, structures and patterns promises
far more complex and authentic gustatory pleasures. Well, the same goes for pipes. Bowl coatings
are used to seal and to protect but they obscure or, worse, sacrifice the character and personality
of the natural product that forms the heart of your pipe. And that’s a shame. Look at the great
wines. Sometimes they are vinified in oak barrels and for sure they are raised in oak casks. In
contact with the wood, they develop more complex aromas and flavors. Between wine and wood
a beneficial synergy is established that no one in their right mind would dare to deny. No wine
grower, no oenologist would ever claim that by coating their barrels with some protective paste,
they would in no way alter that precious symbiosis between the container and the content. Yet,
what would seem like a sacrilege for any self-respecting winemaker, is a common practice among
pipe makers.

Let me ask you : frankly, do you prefer a coated bowl or rather a virgin tobacco chamber ? It’s
a rhetorical question since I know the answer : the vast majority of experienced pipe smokers
prefer a pipe without bowl coating. And you’re in good company : the famous pipe dealer and
connoisseur Marty Pulvers incessantly expresses his predilection for virgin bowls ; the respected

Italian retailer Tarek Manadily downright refuses to sell any pipe that has been coated ; the always
analytical Greg Pease conducted a series of experiments that proved to his highly sensitive taste
buds that a pipe with a coated tobacco chamber will never equal the taste sensations of a pure and
unadulterated one. But what about the pipe makers themselves ? Well, it’s simple : I can’t think of
any European carver I’m acquainted with who coats his personal pipes. And that includes artisans
whose pipes systematically come coated. In short, pipe makers are like the rest of us : they just
love to eye the grain and the shades of a virgin bowl and to caress the luscious flanks of a smooth
tobacco chamber. And, above all, they cherish the magical moment when, during its baptism of
fire, the briar starts to unveil its personality and to reveal its secrets. If connoisseurs, experts and
a majority of pipe makers share a preference for virgin tobacco chambers, how come the pipe
market is flooded with black and grey bowls ? And how to explain this surprising paradox : it is both
among the cheapest, least prestigious pipes and in the high grade niche of the market that we see
the highest percentage of bowl coatings ?

Thankfully, there are still quite a few carvers left who supply you with uncoated pipes. Since it is
neither my intention to praise certain individuals, nor to attack others, I do not feel called to list
their names. Besides I suppose you know them already. Anyway, I salute them and express my
gratitude. In addition to these consistent defenders of the bare briar, there’s a myriad of brands
and makers that I would call hybrid : they offer both coated and uncoated bowls. In a rare burst
of goodwill, I could maintain that this practice suits a noble purpose that is to satisfy everyone.
It is indeed a fact that certain high grade artisans do offer the choice to their customers. That’s
perfect. But when I think of all the brands and makers who only coat a part of their production, I
have to confess my skeptical nature takes over from my goodwill. I cannot help but wonder why
these manufacturers coat such pipe and not such other one. When I observe that a brand offers
for sale a group of pipes of the same series and with the same grade and that some have coated
bowls while most of their little sisters are virgins, when I notice that the most expensive series of a
manufacturer come uncoated while the less prestigious ones sport a bowl coating, I don’t think I’m
being paranoid or exceedingly suspicious when I suppose that maybe certain tobacco chambers
fear the daylight. Is it farfetched to suspect that sometimes a bowl coating serves as camouflage ?
Are you certain all bowls with flawed tobacco chambers end up as fire wood ? Is it out of the
question that a bowl coating hides a sizable fill ? Frankly, I’d be surprised. Caveat emptor.

Finally, there are the hard-core bowl coating fans who coat their entire production. Very often high
grade pipe makers. I confess from the outset they exasperate me. Although I have extensively
discussed the issue with several of them, to this day I fail to understand their ways because their
arguments seem weak and easily refutable. But before addressing their assertions, let us first
try to comprehend why these days we see so many coated high grade pipes. It’s simple, really :
rather than listening to the customer, the contemporary pipe makers imitate their role models.
If Scandinavian, German, American or Japanese star carvers coat their bowls, why would an
aspiring young artisan do things differently ? When I read the forums where young carvers seek
advice from more accomplished colleagues, it strikes me that rather than inquiring about the
necessity of bowl coatings and about the merits of this process, they’re merely interested in finding
what seems like the holy grail : the perfect recipe.

Now then, what about the arguments the pipe makers themselves repeat over and over again to

justify the fact that they so often rob us of the pleasures of a virgin bowl ? Personally, I find them
rather unconvincing. But you be the judge.

A coated tobacco chamber is more beautiful.

Obviously a very arguable argument because of its subjectivity. At best, I can conceive that a black
tobacco chamber suits a blasted pipe with a black finish better than a virgin one, but this argument
strikes me as completely unfounded when it comes to a tan shell or any smooth pipe, be it waxed
only or finished with any type of stain. To me, a flawless virgin bowl that sports its grain and its
natural color, looks much more attractive and appetizing.

A coated tobacco chamber facilitates the breaking in process.

Really ? Did you ever stumble upon a pipe with a virgin bowl that stubbornly refused to form a
cake despite the fact you smoked it according to good practice ? I did not. Or have you found
that your coated pipes break in in record time ? I have not. And have you noticed that the cake
in your coated bowls is obviously of a much higher quality than the one in your uncoated pipes ?
I have not. It must be me. Still, I don’t deny that in theory cake should adhere more easily to the
rather coarse surface of paste coated walls than to a smooth tobacco chamber. Besides, that’s
the reason why certain pipe makers prefer not to polish the inside of their bowls. However, my
personal experiences make me conclude that in practice I don’t notice any difference.

A coated tobacco chamber protects against burnouts.

Every time a pipe maker tries to convince me with this argument, I feel vexed. Because,
fundamentally, this argument is condescending and reveals an undeserved distrust. It presupposes
that I’m either an incompetent smoker or a ruffian who mistreats his pipes. And I don’t particularly
like to be taken for a blunderer or a barbarian. This said, I fully understand that for a pipe maker,
especially for one who is active in the high-end niche of the market, a burnout is his worst
nightmare: not only does it cost him numerous hours of work to manufacture a replacement, it can
also destroy his reputation. Nonetheless, on the one hand I wonder whether the insurance policy
in the form of a bowl coating effectively covers the risk and on the other hand I ask myself whether
the risk really justifies such drastic measures. Throughout three and a half decades I’ve smoked
around five hundred different pipes and I never ever had a burnout. Because I’m an exceptionally
gifted smoker ? I’m sure this is not the case. Because I’ve been incredibly lucky ? I don’t believe
that either. Moreover, although I know quite a few passionate pipe fans and collectors, I have
almost never heard of a high grade pipe that burned out. And when this happens anyway, the
number of possible causes is limited to three : a smoker who overheats his pipe, a major invisible
flaw in the wood or a badly executed pipe. I wonder if a bowl coating can avoid a burnout when a
deep fissure is running near the surface of the tobacco chamber or when a pipe maker for instance
didn’t leave enough wood in the heel. Honestly, I don’t think so. Besides, in these cases it seems
only fair that the customer gets a replacement pipe. That leaves us with the smoker. Now, I cannot
imagine that the customers of high grade pipe makers are clumsy neophytes, careless bums or
ferocious vandals. So, as a matter of fact, with their bowl coatings the high grade artisans are
protecting themselves against the most experienced, careful, fussy smokers in the world. And

in doing so, they go against the wishes of the vast majority of the customers who provide their
livelihood. That’s sad. And stupid.

The taste of a bowl coating is neutral.

Every pipe maker who coats his bowls will assure you that his recipe is perfectly neutral and has
no effect whatsoever on the taste of your pipe. Nonsense. Even if the chemical composition of
a bowl coating is 100% tasteless, it remains a fact that the briar is not in direct contact with your
smoldering tobacco and, consequently, cannot freely release its natural flavor. By definition a
bowl coating is never ever neutral since it conceals the briar taste and hence affects your sensory
perception. That’s not all. Granted, charcoal and dairy-based recipes have the double advantage
of being edible and not to generate off-flavors, but most brands and makers use water glass as an
ingredient. To my palate the result is an artificial taste that, in some cases, can be downright foul.
Worse still, even when you sand down the tobacco chamber to remove the coating, you’ll continue
to detect the taste and, according to Greg Pease, during the whole of its lifespan a coated bowl will
never equal the taste sensations of a pipe with bare walls. Therefore, I cannot repeat it enough :
pipe makers should test, taste, compare.

A bowl coating ends up burning away anyway.

When I make critical remarks about their bowl coatings, usually pipe makers reply in unison it’s not
the end of the world because after a few smokes, the paste will gradually disappear. Gee ! What
a gigantic paradox ! So, they assure me I need a bowl coating to enhance the breaking in process
and to protect my pipe against burn outs and now they tell me that after a few pipefuls, I’ll not only
have to do without the invaluable support I so urgently need in order to build a proper cake, but
also, oh horror, that my briar mistress and I romp about without any protection against the risks of
our burning passion. Seriously, am I the only one here to feel led on ?

At the end of these reflections, I would like to appeal to you. If, like me, you have a strong
preference for bare tobacco chambers, stop resigning yourself to purchase coated pipes you would
have wished to be virgin. End the frustration, break the silence. Instead, don’t hesitate to contact
your favorite pipe makers and to express your regrets and desires. Ask them to remove the coating
from the pipe you’d like to add to your harem. Expressly commission pipes with virgin bowls. Have
the courage of your convictions. Be a knight in shining armor and stand up for the rights of virgins.

If by any chance you feel the need to show off your wealth and your standing, here’s
some advice for you. Purchase an ostentatious villa or a design loft with a panoramic
view. Parade your trophy wife. Wear a Rolex. Order a Petrus or an Yquem in a three star
Michelin restaurant. Drive a Beamer. Do not, I repeat, do not smoke a Bo Nordh. Without
a doubt, doing so, even with consummate studied casualness, would prove a crushing
disappointment. Who, I ask you, would suspect that the trivial object that prevents you
from exhibiting your perfect teeth, actually represents three months worth of salary of your
luscious personal assistant ? To flash your success, maybe, just maybe a Dunhill topped
with a fancy gold umbrella might do the trick. But a master carver’s pipe ? Forget it. It will
impress the gallery just as little as a pedestrian Stannie.

And that’s exactly why I never understood and probably will never understand the self-
righteous Jacobins who seem to thrive in the pipe related forums and newsgroups and who
feel it is their moral duty to point an accusing finger at members whose taste in pipes they
judge unacceptably aristocratic. And these self-appointed prosecutors just love a good ol’
trial of intent : high grade smokers are pipe snobs and show-offs who wallow in pedantry, in
elitism, in a superiority complex.

So what is it about high grade pipe smokers that bothers so much ? Is it the mere fact that
they buy pipes most smokers cannot or will not afford ? Or is it rather the fact they have the
temerity to unashamedly present in forums and blogs their discoveries and purchases ?
Or, worse, that they have the insufferable gall to claim that, in general, pipes crafted by
passionate and perfectionist artisans are better made than those turned, drilled, fitted and
finished in record time in some factory, and that, obviously, quality has its price ?

Ah, prices ! It is my firm belief that in the forums we talk way too much about money. I
cannot help but think that a lot of members seem more fascinated by the prices of pipes
than passionate about the briar object that should unite us. Consequently, it is the different
amounts of money that the respective members are willing to invest in a pipe, that tend to
become apples of discord. It is the prices that are causing the most heated debates. And,
inevitably, during these discussions that turn into disputes, against all logic, egalitarian
dreams are mistaken for reality. Is it foolish to assert that one travels more comfortably in
a Lexus than in a simple Toyota ? Is it really inconceivable that a pair of hand made Berluti
shoes are easier on the feet than a pair made in China for Walmart ? Can it be ruled out that
scallops prepared by Alain Ducasse or Joël Robuchon taste slightly better than the rubbery
ones in your TV dinner ? So, why then, I ask you, does the simple assertion that in the pipe
world similar differences in quality do exist, systematically lead to outcries of protest ?

Besides, more than once I have the impression that the champions of simple pleasures and
the defenders of the democratic pipe pull the wool over our eyes. At times, their hard-line

principles can get amazingly relative. If they happen to stumble upon a $9.99 Dunhill at a
garage sale, suddenly their allergy to the snobbish white-spotted pipes melts like snow in the
sun. And when former French star carver Alain Albuisson gave up pipe making and sold out
his stock at a whopping discount, I witnessed how several anti-high grade crusaders were
the first to pounce like vultures on the unexpected opportunity. A surprising attitude, to say
the least, for people who systematically and categorically oppose the idea that not all pipes
are born equal. This kind of hypocrisy makes me uneasy.

Sometimes I wonder about the motives of the anti-high grade mob. I have my idea, but
I’d rather keep it to myself. I’ll only confide to you that none of my reflections have led me
to believe that what triggers their bitter belches, is good faith, intellectual honesty or any
kind of noble feelings. What is certain is that they are completely blinded by their bias. It
even prevents them from seeing that a so-called pipe snob will never ever make in public
a derogatory remark about the pipes smoked by forum members with simpler tastes, with
different priorities or with a less bulky bank account.

Each time some hot-headed inquisitor aggresses me in a forum for the sole reason that in
his mind I embody the wealthy elitist he can’t stand, I think of a friend of mine. For fifteen
years we were colleagues, before I became his boss. In the morning he takes the bus to
come to work and in the evening I drive him back home. He himself hardly ever drives his 18
years old Audi 80. He’s a typical Sunday driver. And yet I don’t know anyone who feels more
passionate about cars. He buys all the car magazines. On TV he watches every car show in
four different languages. He talks cars. He dreams cars. As we work in the Antwerp diamond
district, each and every day we pass stunning luxury and sports cars. And every evening
my friend admires, enthuses, raves in blissful enjoyment. Naturally. Passionately. Sincerely.
Without any hint of jealousy, resentment or frustration.

I think it’s a beautiful parable. And in our little pipe universe a very useful one.

Nick

I want to begin my stint as a blogger by illustrating some basic distinctions. You are here because for some inexplicable reason you have an itch. This itch is insidious and can only be relieved by scanning the products of maladjusted would be architects, artists and engineers to see what they’ve done lately with chunks of heath tree root. Conversely, I am here because I’m curious to see what drives you, what nurtures your malady and exacerbates this concupiscence. This is purely scientific.

I have, on occasion, again for purely scientific reasons, purchased an artisan-made pipe. I find it gratifying to see how some cloistered theologian is working out great cosmic themes by grinding away at dense root balls until an aesthetically pleasing tube for collecting spit and char is born. My skepticism regarding the great mysteries is rewarded in this way. I have no need to photograph my prizes and to lord them over those less facile with the “buy it now” button. It is enough for me to know that no one else has the calm detachment I possess. I merely study the phenomena. I do not participate in it.

It is from this position of distance and objectivity that I can deliver the results of my observations. I can tell you the precise ratio of air to particulates that transverses the shank of your Kent (for a price). If your Ismir to Samsun polarity is askew with regard to conical profile of your Dancing Dublin’s chamber, I will not mock you, but merely make a note of it.

In short, I do not want any of you to feel as though you are stains on the microscopic slides of pipe scrutiny. I am here to help you. I have no need to own these effete, wooden sippy straws. I have them because it is my mission to understand what motivates all of you. If I choose to sell my silver fillings and back issues of Buffy and Angel Collector’s Magazine in order to finance the purchase of the only Revyagin pipe in existence that has no tobacco chamber or stem (this delivers a particularly cool smoke), it is because of my insatiable need to know why you would do the same thing if you were fortunate enough to find yourselves in my shoes. But alas, you are not in my shoes. You are caught on this hamster wheel of acquisition and proprietorship. I peer through the bars of the cage with both a sense of sympathy and of genuine superiority and it is because of this that your salvation is at hand.

As you peruse the offerings here, I want you to feel twinges of guilt and paranoia. Do not let the sinuous lines of that Knets fool you. It is just a pipe. It could turn out that I might need it for study anyway. It is imperative that you hang on every word I write in upcoming posts for only in this way will you come to understand yourselves and the vicious condition that has overcome you.

 Clearly, I’m not a Samurai (for that matter, I can’t even navigate a sushi menu), for I have been tossing around the idea of having a blog on this site for about a year. The reason for the hesitation should be pretty obvious to those who know me personally; I am a talker, not a writer.

Despite the above, I have wanted to create a forum with a different attitude, flavor, and edge than you are likely to find hosted on other retail sites. To digress,  there’s a long standing, unwritten ‘code’ about communication within pipe internet retail offices, and that code dictatesthe amount of candor/writer’s opinion that gets passed along. There is one for what is displayed on the front page (or will be permanently available in archives). This is the ‘happy place’, where content could not possibly offend any reader, be they Mother Theresa or Andrew ‘Dice’ Clay. Next, there is content that will be up for only a week, pretty similar to the first, but some sandpaper can appear because… well, it’s only up for a week. Third, there’s what might be passed on to a brand new customer and fourth covers what’s said to long standing (hopefully good humored) customers. The fifth is what we say amongst ourselves… and (ok) what we’d say after a few beer’s with pals at a pipe show. Yes, as you have no doubt already guessed, this blog will often run pretty close to that fifth level.

I have lined up quite a few guest bloggers, men whom I like and respect, and (most importantly) guys who call it as they see it. The topics will range as far as their opinions, and the tone will be similar to our conversations over the telephone or when we’re at a show. There will be a little humor, a bit of colorful language and some subjects that might get me in trouble but it will hopefully get you guys talking. I’d like for all future blogs to be informative sure, but not how to clean your pipe or smoke this tobacco from this shape kinda bullshit. You guys are grown men, you have access to Google. In short, if you haven’t figured that stuff out yet, then this might not be the spot for you.

I’ll try not to hold back and tell the people writing for the site not to hold back, bottom line is there will be no skirting around a subject. That’s basically it, we’ll see where this road leads us, aside from me writing my first blog… .

Nick