I know, I know, it's been three months since I've made a blog posting. So sue me. Now that we've got that out of the way, let's recap what happened today at The Tobacco Hut. Who were the regulars in attendance and what fun banter was exchanged?
Here's the entire list of Saturday regulars and semi-regulars who were in attendance: Me. That's it. No Joe K, no Peter G, no Steve B, no Barry C, no Tom L, no Paul V, no Scott R (correction - according to Lou, Scott stopped by in the morning for a smoke but, alas, he had left before I arrived), no Ed B, no Vic (although I think he's gone back to New York so I guess he's off the hook), no James K (although I suppose living in Atlanta excuses him, but he could have at least made his usual harassing phone call), no Sue Ann, no Darryl G, and no Mike G (is it really *that* far from Tennessee to join us for a Saturday smoke once in awhile?)
Fortunately we had a steady stream of other customers, although no one stayed to enjoy their purchases. At 2 o'clock, Lou turned the TV to some golf tournament which was sheer torture for me. Unfortunately, without other folks to converse with, all my attention was reluctantly focused on the TV. I think I learned more about golf in those several hours than in the previous several decades.
I did, however, thoroughly enjoy my pipeful of Tinder Box Reserve 1928. It smoked beautifully all the way down to a fine ash in the Winslow Crown Viking I purchased from Lou a couple years ago. It's a wonderful, medium-sized freehand, partly rusticated. Lou has one remaining freehand that I might just have to buy - don't tell Paula.
In two weeks - May 22nd - Lou is hosting an Oliva tasting. Mark it on your calendars and all will be forgiven if you're able to make it. I also pledge to be better about writing the blog. Deal?
By the way, as many of you know, I design websites on the side. Here's my recently completed site for the company Peter G works for, Amen Air. Check it out!
Cheers!
- Bob
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Pipe Smoking on The History Channel
I'm not sure when this originally aired, but I came across this video clip from The History Channel's "Modern Marvels" program. It shows how a custom, handmade pipe is made and also features the Cornell & Diehl Tobacco Co. in North Carolina, who manufactures over 200 blends of pipe tobacco.
Nice to see an interesting, albeit brief, segment on pipe smoking in the mainstream media. Years ago when I worked at The Tinder Box in Columbus, Ohio, we invited pipe carver Tim West into our shop for a pipe making demonstration. He set up his equipment in the front of the store and was there for several hours. It was extremely interesting, even to non-smokers who were passing by.
So-called board, or basket, pipes are typically machine-made and, though perfect for someone starting out in pipes, don't offer the same smoking experience as that of a hand made custom pipe. The selection of briar, the curing process, the care and craftsmanship that goes into the carving, and the finishing of the pipe all contribute to an excellent smoking experience. Knowing the amount of work and the vision that goes into such pieces of art only serve to enhance the enjoyment of the pipe.
Cheers!
- Bob
Nice to see an interesting, albeit brief, segment on pipe smoking in the mainstream media. Years ago when I worked at The Tinder Box in Columbus, Ohio, we invited pipe carver Tim West into our shop for a pipe making demonstration. He set up his equipment in the front of the store and was there for several hours. It was extremely interesting, even to non-smokers who were passing by.
So-called board, or basket, pipes are typically machine-made and, though perfect for someone starting out in pipes, don't offer the same smoking experience as that of a hand made custom pipe. The selection of briar, the curing process, the care and craftsmanship that goes into the carving, and the finishing of the pipe all contribute to an excellent smoking experience. Knowing the amount of work and the vision that goes into such pieces of art only serve to enhance the enjoyment of the pipe.
Cheers!
- Bob
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Saturday at the Hut - 2/6/10
I had received a new shipment of tobacco from the Tinder Box this week, as I was out of my favorite tobacco, Reserve 1928, so I was quite eager to light up a pipeful of it today. I arrived at The Tobacco Hut, greeted Lou and Joe K, and promptly filled my Mauro Armellini and lit up. What a fine combination...this part straight grain and part flame grain pipe burns the Virginia tobaccos in the Reserve 1928 so smoothly and evenly, every sip is a treat.
As usual, Joe was struggling to keep his cigar lit, complaining loudly to Lou about stems and whatnot and trying mightily to wrangle a free cigar from Lou, but no dice. Methinks it's just operator error.
Peter and Steve arrived after awhile and we talked about, in no particular order of importance, politics, women, and sports. The Two-Kidney Boy Wonder, James, called in for his weekly dose of abuse, and he was amply rewarded by Lou spitting out a string of epithets that would embarrass a sailor. Apparently, James is coming into town in a couple of weeks and he and a buddy are taking Joe's boat down to the Everglades. Joe doesn't know too many details, so we are left to assume that this is probably some sort of gun-running adventure James has embarked on.
At around 4:00, Barry came in complaining of Swine Flu-like symptoms. Of course, he mentioned this after he shook everyone's hand. As of this writing, I'm feeling okay, but I'm sure I'll wake up with a fever.
Knowing that Barry is a big Emmitt Smith fan, claiming that he was the game's best running back, I had done a little research comparing his stats with Jim Brown's. In overall yardage and rushing touchdowns, Smith is clearly the leader. Of course, he also played far more seasons than Jim Brown did. I think it's more telling though that Jim Brown averaged 5.2 yards per carry vs. Emmitt Smith's 4.2 yards. Jim Brown is also the only player to average 100+ yards per game. Also, according to NFL.com, Emmitt Smith fumbled the ball 38 times while Jim Brown never fumbled.
In all fairness, Barry brings up a reasonable objection to that last statistic: perhaps the NFL didn't keep such statistics while Jim Brown played the game. But I'm happy believing that Jim Brown never fumbled the ball and Emmitt "Butterfingers" Smith couldn't hang onto it 38 times.
Finally, Sporting News named Jim Brown as the greatest football player to every play the game.
I must say, Barry did a fine impression of Peter whose arms tend to be overtaken by demonic possession when he gets into heated debate mode. And Barry regaled Steve with his story of meeting Derek Jeter. It is a good story, and one that has been reported here in an earlier blog posting. It's also worth noting that Peter and Barry actually agreed today on bit of sports opinion. I can't be sure exactly what it was, because if it doesn't involve the Cleveland Browns or Indians, I can't be bothered with paying close attention.
Joe didn't witness the late afternoon frivolity as he had gone home to take a nap.
By the way, as the irregular visitor to the Hut may not be aware, Lou & Dotty are looking to sell the shop. It is with a heavy heart that I report this, as it means a weekly way of life for me could come to an end. My wife is not happy about it either, as it could mean I will be underfoot for her on Saturday afternoons. Things are still up in the air at this point, but I wish Lou & Dotty well.
Until next week...
- Bob
As usual, Joe was struggling to keep his cigar lit, complaining loudly to Lou about stems and whatnot and trying mightily to wrangle a free cigar from Lou, but no dice. Methinks it's just operator error.
Peter and Steve arrived after awhile and we talked about, in no particular order of importance, politics, women, and sports. The Two-Kidney Boy Wonder, James, called in for his weekly dose of abuse, and he was amply rewarded by Lou spitting out a string of epithets that would embarrass a sailor. Apparently, James is coming into town in a couple of weeks and he and a buddy are taking Joe's boat down to the Everglades. Joe doesn't know too many details, so we are left to assume that this is probably some sort of gun-running adventure James has embarked on.
At around 4:00, Barry came in complaining of Swine Flu-like symptoms. Of course, he mentioned this after he shook everyone's hand. As of this writing, I'm feeling okay, but I'm sure I'll wake up with a fever.
Knowing that Barry is a big Emmitt Smith fan, claiming that he was the game's best running back, I had done a little research comparing his stats with Jim Brown's. In overall yardage and rushing touchdowns, Smith is clearly the leader. Of course, he also played far more seasons than Jim Brown did. I think it's more telling though that Jim Brown averaged 5.2 yards per carry vs. Emmitt Smith's 4.2 yards. Jim Brown is also the only player to average 100+ yards per game. Also, according to NFL.com, Emmitt Smith fumbled the ball 38 times while Jim Brown never fumbled.
In all fairness, Barry brings up a reasonable objection to that last statistic: perhaps the NFL didn't keep such statistics while Jim Brown played the game. But I'm happy believing that Jim Brown never fumbled the ball and Emmitt "Butterfingers" Smith couldn't hang onto it 38 times.
Finally, Sporting News named Jim Brown as the greatest football player to every play the game.
I must say, Barry did a fine impression of Peter whose arms tend to be overtaken by demonic possession when he gets into heated debate mode. And Barry regaled Steve with his story of meeting Derek Jeter. It is a good story, and one that has been reported here in an earlier blog posting. It's also worth noting that Peter and Barry actually agreed today on bit of sports opinion. I can't be sure exactly what it was, because if it doesn't involve the Cleveland Browns or Indians, I can't be bothered with paying close attention.
Joe didn't witness the late afternoon frivolity as he had gone home to take a nap.
By the way, as the irregular visitor to the Hut may not be aware, Lou & Dotty are looking to sell the shop. It is with a heavy heart that I report this, as it means a weekly way of life for me could come to an end. My wife is not happy about it either, as it could mean I will be underfoot for her on Saturday afternoons. Things are still up in the air at this point, but I wish Lou & Dotty well.
Until next week...
- Bob
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Saturday at the Hut - 1/16/10
I introduced a special guest yesterday at The Tobacco Hut. All the way from Seattle, my brother-in-law Mark was in town for business and was able to extend his visit to spend time with Paula and me. I couldn't let the Saturday go by without a stop at the Hut for a cigar and a pipe, so we hit the store around 1:30 or so and he got to meet Lou and Joe.
As I filled my Ascorti Pepino pipe with some Tinder Box Reserve 1928 (I must say that this tobacco made exclusively for the Tinder Box by McClelland continues to impress - never harsh, great flavor and excellent room note), Mark picked out a Fuente and we settled in. Joe reminded us that he was heading for the north country on the 21st (Erie, PA) so we probably won't see him 'til the following Saturday. Stay warm, Joe!
I was hoping that Joe's son James "Two Kidney" Koker would call in like he usually does on Saturday afternoons, but he must have been too busy pouring vodka in his ears.
A short time later, Peter arrived and I introduced him to a fellow Bostonian. Mark and Peter compared notes and Boston history, and I think Peter was finally glad to be able to share his love of Beantown (or Tremontaine as the city was originally called) with someone with as much appreciation and love of the town as him. Not that the rest of us don't care, but some of the recondite and arcane points of Boston's history are lost on non-natives.
Barry came in toward the end of our stay and after the introductions and pleasantries were out of the way, the talk turned to baseball, specifically Yankees vs. Red Sox. Barry staked out his position as a Yankee fan and apologist early, defending their numerous championships and maintaining that, with one or two exceptions, his players are squeaky clean. He is quick to point out how juiced the Sox players are though. Mark diplomatically made the point that, like corrupt politicians, athletes using performance enhancing drugs are rampant on every team.
Mark congratulated Barry on the Yankees' 2009 World Series win, making a reference to how their gigantic payroll probably played a not so insignificant role in their win. Barry disputed this, of course, claiming that the payroll between the Yankees and Red Sox wasn't so far apart - maybe $10-20 million. So I did some research. According to Cot's Baseball Contracts, the 2009 opening day payroll for the Yankees was $201.4 million. Opening day payroll for the Red Sox was $121.7 million, a difference of almost $80 million. I'll let my reader decide for himself if, and to what degree, money makes a difference in winning MLB championships. Just an aside, the San Diego Padres' 2009 opening day payroll was $43.7 million. 'Nuff said.
I had hoped for a more vigorous, and logical, fact-based defense from Barry concerning Yankee steroid use and "bought" championships, especially in the face of a united Mark/Peter front, rather than ad hominem attacks accusing the two of a budding "bromance." He did tell the entertaining story of when he met Derek Jeter in a Tampa restaurant a couple years ago. His veritable lust for Mr. Jeter seemed a bit like a "bromance" as well, and Barry unashamedly admitted to it, claiming it would be "just sex."
On that note, Mark and I took our leave. I'm not sure if my advanced hype of the Hut lived up to expectations, but I hope Mark had a good time nevertheless and will consider joining the gang again the next time he's in town.
Until next week...
- Bob
P.S. How did Dallas do in their playoff game, Barry? Sorry, man, had to do it. Still friends...?
As I filled my Ascorti Pepino pipe with some Tinder Box Reserve 1928 (I must say that this tobacco made exclusively for the Tinder Box by McClelland continues to impress - never harsh, great flavor and excellent room note), Mark picked out a Fuente and we settled in. Joe reminded us that he was heading for the north country on the 21st (Erie, PA) so we probably won't see him 'til the following Saturday. Stay warm, Joe!
I was hoping that Joe's son James "Two Kidney" Koker would call in like he usually does on Saturday afternoons, but he must have been too busy pouring vodka in his ears.
A short time later, Peter arrived and I introduced him to a fellow Bostonian. Mark and Peter compared notes and Boston history, and I think Peter was finally glad to be able to share his love of Beantown (or Tremontaine as the city was originally called) with someone with as much appreciation and love of the town as him. Not that the rest of us don't care, but some of the recondite and arcane points of Boston's history are lost on non-natives.
Barry came in toward the end of our stay and after the introductions and pleasantries were out of the way, the talk turned to baseball, specifically Yankees vs. Red Sox. Barry staked out his position as a Yankee fan and apologist early, defending their numerous championships and maintaining that, with one or two exceptions, his players are squeaky clean. He is quick to point out how juiced the Sox players are though. Mark diplomatically made the point that, like corrupt politicians, athletes using performance enhancing drugs are rampant on every team.
Mark congratulated Barry on the Yankees' 2009 World Series win, making a reference to how their gigantic payroll probably played a not so insignificant role in their win. Barry disputed this, of course, claiming that the payroll between the Yankees and Red Sox wasn't so far apart - maybe $10-20 million. So I did some research. According to Cot's Baseball Contracts, the 2009 opening day payroll for the Yankees was $201.4 million. Opening day payroll for the Red Sox was $121.7 million, a difference of almost $80 million. I'll let my reader decide for himself if, and to what degree, money makes a difference in winning MLB championships. Just an aside, the San Diego Padres' 2009 opening day payroll was $43.7 million. 'Nuff said.
I had hoped for a more vigorous, and logical, fact-based defense from Barry concerning Yankee steroid use and "bought" championships, especially in the face of a united Mark/Peter front, rather than ad hominem attacks accusing the two of a budding "bromance." He did tell the entertaining story of when he met Derek Jeter in a Tampa restaurant a couple years ago. His veritable lust for Mr. Jeter seemed a bit like a "bromance" as well, and Barry unashamedly admitted to it, claiming it would be "just sex."
On that note, Mark and I took our leave. I'm not sure if my advanced hype of the Hut lived up to expectations, but I hope Mark had a good time nevertheless and will consider joining the gang again the next time he's in town.
Until next week...
- Bob
P.S. How did Dallas do in their playoff game, Barry? Sorry, man, had to do it. Still friends...?
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Saturday at the Hut - 1/2/10
Unfortunately, I was forced to stay home from the Tobacco Hut with a nasty cold I picked up last week. So no pipe for me and no reporting on what transpired.
I did however send my intrepid correspondent, Joe K, to the scene. From past e-mail exchanges with him, I know Joe to be concise and succinct. So I doubt that you'll be subject to the loquacious and verbose reporting you have grown accustomed to from my writings over the years.
Here's Joe's full report now:
Well, then, there you have it. Thank you Joe for that fine bit of reporting!
And, by the way, happy birthday to our correspondent! Sorry I couldn't be there to hoist a pipe in your honor. Hope to see you next week.
Cheers!
- Bob
I did however send my intrepid correspondent, Joe K, to the scene. From past e-mail exchanges with him, I know Joe to be concise and succinct. So I doubt that you'll be subject to the loquacious and verbose reporting you have grown accustomed to from my writings over the years.
Here's Joe's full report now:
We smoked.
Well, then, there you have it. Thank you Joe for that fine bit of reporting!
And, by the way, happy birthday to our correspondent! Sorry I couldn't be there to hoist a pipe in your honor. Hope to see you next week.
Cheers!
- Bob
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Saturday at the Hut - 12/26/09
Hey, look at this, two blog postings in a row without missing a week! I arrived this Saturday at The Tobacco Hut around 12:30 and filled the Stanwell freehand that I had gotten from Lou a year or two ago with some Frog Morton and shortly after I lit up, Tom L arrived. Good to see him twice in as many weeks. He gave Lou an Opus X from stock that he had purchased from the store in 1996. Fortunately, he hadn't stored them in his glove compartment and they both enjoyed a perfectly aged and mellowed cigar.
Close to 1:00 Joe K and his entourage came in: his son James K, his brother Jimmy from Tennessee, and his son-in-law Laith from Texas. It didn't take long for James to make fun of my affliction with jokes about being minus a kidney, but no worries - I could take it. I had some ammunition of my own to share with the group, like reminding James about being routinely over the limit on his father's credit card while at college, having to pour vodka in his ear after swimming across a sewage-infested retention pond, and of course - the coup de grâce - James calling his father collect from Mexico after having a cigar stolen from him by a monkey. You just can't make this stuff up.
We were all enjoying our respective smokes when a disheveled, smelly wayfarer appeared at the store's open door. James, apparently overcome with the spirit of the season, welcomed the man in and he (the vagabond) proceeded to stumble and mumble around the store creating a bit of a scene.
Without wanting to appear rude, but still mindful of the group's desires to be free of this miscreant, Joe announced that we all..."played for the other team". Everyone snickered (except Tom, who I don't think appreciated being "outed") but the man didn't seem to mind. Laith had gotten up momentarily and the hobo took the opportunity to plant himself in the now vacant chair. He proceeded to make even more inane comments than James was capable of making and proved himself most irritating.
Finally, when he asked Lou to buy a soda and protested the asking price of $1, Lou finally advised the man to leave. Incredulous, the man exclaimed, "I'm getting kicked out of a smoke shop?!" Yes, Mr. Tramp, you are. And with that, and a few choice words mumbled under his breath, he exited the store. Phew!
We went back to the general frivolity of the day, mostly poking fun at James (there's so much material!) and listening to tall tales from one another.
A little while later the vagrant walked past the shop's open door. He looked in, but we all made a conscious effort just to be quiet. Even when the man yelled in something about the "Homo Hut". Except Joe. Joe just couldn't leave well enough alone. The guy had stepped off the curb, but Joe yelled out, "I love you man!" And that brought Mr. Tramp back in, incredulous again that he had been kicked out of a smoke shop. We assured him that he had, but he could come back tomorrow. We neglected to tell him that the store is closed on Sundays.
You know, something just occurred to me...Lou said that Mike G was in town from Tennessee. I wonder if Mr. Smelly Pants was actually - no, it couldn't be. Never mind.
Happy Holidays everyone!
- Bob
Close to 1:00 Joe K and his entourage came in: his son James K, his brother Jimmy from Tennessee, and his son-in-law Laith from Texas. It didn't take long for James to make fun of my affliction with jokes about being minus a kidney, but no worries - I could take it. I had some ammunition of my own to share with the group, like reminding James about being routinely over the limit on his father's credit card while at college, having to pour vodka in his ear after swimming across a sewage-infested retention pond, and of course - the coup de grâce - James calling his father collect from Mexico after having a cigar stolen from him by a monkey. You just can't make this stuff up.
We were all enjoying our respective smokes when a disheveled, smelly wayfarer appeared at the store's open door. James, apparently overcome with the spirit of the season, welcomed the man in and he (the vagabond) proceeded to stumble and mumble around the store creating a bit of a scene.
Without wanting to appear rude, but still mindful of the group's desires to be free of this miscreant, Joe announced that we all..."played for the other team". Everyone snickered (except Tom, who I don't think appreciated being "outed") but the man didn't seem to mind. Laith had gotten up momentarily and the hobo took the opportunity to plant himself in the now vacant chair. He proceeded to make even more inane comments than James was capable of making and proved himself most irritating.
Finally, when he asked Lou to buy a soda and protested the asking price of $1, Lou finally advised the man to leave. Incredulous, the man exclaimed, "I'm getting kicked out of a smoke shop?!" Yes, Mr. Tramp, you are. And with that, and a few choice words mumbled under his breath, he exited the store. Phew!
We went back to the general frivolity of the day, mostly poking fun at James (there's so much material!) and listening to tall tales from one another.
A little while later the vagrant walked past the shop's open door. He looked in, but we all made a conscious effort just to be quiet. Even when the man yelled in something about the "Homo Hut". Except Joe. Joe just couldn't leave well enough alone. The guy had stepped off the curb, but Joe yelled out, "I love you man!" And that brought Mr. Tramp back in, incredulous again that he had been kicked out of a smoke shop. We assured him that he had, but he could come back tomorrow. We neglected to tell him that the store is closed on Sundays.
You know, something just occurred to me...Lou said that Mike G was in town from Tennessee. I wonder if Mr. Smelly Pants was actually - no, it couldn't be. Never mind.
Happy Holidays everyone!
- Bob
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Saturday at the Hut - 12/19/09
Again my humble apologies for taking so long to write a post - even Joe is finding it hard to defend my neglect of the blog. I shall endeavor to be more attentive in the future.
We all had a good laugh at The Tobacco Hut last week, December 12th, when the preacher man, Jim C, discovered that he had a new mission for conversion, namely me. He, Joe, Lou and Peter tried mightily (Joe even offered to take a knee with me) but alas I'm still enjoying the company of fellow nontheists such as Friedrich Nietzsche, Albert Camus, Bertrand Russell, Carl Reiner, George Carlin, Carl Sagan, and Kazimierz Lyszczynski (who was executed in 1689 for his beliefs - or rather, non belief).
This past Saturday I brought a special guest - my son Ryan was in town visiting for his winter break from school. He just finished up his first quarter at Ohio State, getting all A's, and was spending a few days with the family. It didn't take him long to join Lou, Joe, and Peter in taking some shots at the ole' man. He would fit in quite easily with our little Saturday afternoon group, just as Joe's son James did.
We couldn't stay long as we were headed up to Spring Hill to visit my mother who is recovering from a rather long stay in the hospital. She's doing better now and is on the mend.
Some more good news on the medical front, I had my six month scans last week to see if any more cancer has reared its ugly head and everything was clear - yippee! Or, as Joe would say, "Thank ya Jesus!". There was one little spot on the bone scan, but the oncologist said it wasn't cancerous at all, just a little arthritis in my hip. Can't wait to play the arthritis card on Paula now..."Sorry Honey, can't cut the grass, my arthritis is acting up."
Oh, one more thing, I made a grave error regarding the spelling of a certain word when I was building the shop's website. Lou has a pipe tobacco called North Star and it contains nougat flavoring. I spelled it incorrectly ("nuget") and somehow, a year later, Lou noticed it and brought it to my attention a few weeks ago. He asked me then how it was spelled and I replied, "N-U-G-E-T", compounding my error.
This Saturday at the Hut, he brought it to my attention again and Ryan consulted his iPod Touch, verifying that is indeed spelled "N-O-U-G-A-T". Of course, Ryan (and everyone else) had a good laugh over the fact that Mr. English Degree had misspelled a word. Ryan even remarked that he would make sure not to take the same English courses at Ohio State that I did.
Anyway, to Lou and everyone else, I now take this opportunity to down a hefty slice of humble pie and freely admit my mista-, my mis-, my mist-, my mistak-, my...mistake. There, I did it. And I'll now go and correct the website.
Merry Christmas everyone! (yes, the irony of me wishing you a Merry *Christmas* is not lost on me).
Cheers!
- Bob
We all had a good laugh at The Tobacco Hut last week, December 12th, when the preacher man, Jim C, discovered that he had a new mission for conversion, namely me. He, Joe, Lou and Peter tried mightily (Joe even offered to take a knee with me) but alas I'm still enjoying the company of fellow nontheists such as Friedrich Nietzsche, Albert Camus, Bertrand Russell, Carl Reiner, George Carlin, Carl Sagan, and Kazimierz Lyszczynski (who was executed in 1689 for his beliefs - or rather, non belief).
This past Saturday I brought a special guest - my son Ryan was in town visiting for his winter break from school. He just finished up his first quarter at Ohio State, getting all A's, and was spending a few days with the family. It didn't take him long to join Lou, Joe, and Peter in taking some shots at the ole' man. He would fit in quite easily with our little Saturday afternoon group, just as Joe's son James did.
We couldn't stay long as we were headed up to Spring Hill to visit my mother who is recovering from a rather long stay in the hospital. She's doing better now and is on the mend.
Some more good news on the medical front, I had my six month scans last week to see if any more cancer has reared its ugly head and everything was clear - yippee! Or, as Joe would say, "Thank ya Jesus!". There was one little spot on the bone scan, but the oncologist said it wasn't cancerous at all, just a little arthritis in my hip. Can't wait to play the arthritis card on Paula now..."Sorry Honey, can't cut the grass, my arthritis is acting up."
Oh, one more thing, I made a grave error regarding the spelling of a certain word when I was building the shop's website. Lou has a pipe tobacco called North Star and it contains nougat flavoring. I spelled it incorrectly ("nuget") and somehow, a year later, Lou noticed it and brought it to my attention a few weeks ago. He asked me then how it was spelled and I replied, "N-U-G-E-T", compounding my error.
This Saturday at the Hut, he brought it to my attention again and Ryan consulted his iPod Touch, verifying that is indeed spelled "N-O-U-G-A-T". Of course, Ryan (and everyone else) had a good laugh over the fact that Mr. English Degree had misspelled a word. Ryan even remarked that he would make sure not to take the same English courses at Ohio State that I did.
Anyway, to Lou and everyone else, I now take this opportunity to down a hefty slice of humble pie and freely admit my mista-, my mis-, my mist-, my mistak-, my...mistake. There, I did it. And I'll now go and correct the website.
Merry Christmas everyone! (yes, the irony of me wishing you a Merry *Christmas* is not lost on me).
Cheers!
- Bob
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