I find Paul Bonacquisti remarkably refreshing, in that he never takes himself seriously, saving the ‘serious’ for the pipe that might wind up in your hands. Example? I sent Paul a rough draft of the opening paragraph of his page, and his joking response was ‘If I had my say, you’d refer to me as ‘the Dean Martin of the pipe world’. Of course, I couldn’t let that go, so I flipped back ‘The pre-breakup with Jerry Lewis Dean Martin? I could see that….” “Oh, very funny. No, more like the "hey I'm glad to be rid of that guy, hand me another scotch, a smoke and I'm outta here to play golf, chase women have fun and work as little as possible" Dino”. Yeah, only Paul… .

While you faithful describer possesses iron-clad mental faculties that are immune to suggestion, I have to admit that this dapper Dublin exudes a hypnotic mélange of traditionalism, smooth masculinity, as well as a hard-to-pin down savoir- to go along with one of the sweetest sandblasts that a collector could ask for. Robed in a fine Vegas tan, Bonacquisti’s three-stage blasting process breaks the metaphorical house with stunningly deep and regular striations. Indeed, this pipe isn’t just a Kick in the Head, Memories are Made of This.

“When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza-pie… )

Bear Graves