Went to the Pipe Smoking Club, Came Home With a Canadian

Last night was the monthly meeting of the Sherlock Holmes Pipe Club of Boston.

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For an introvert who leaves the house once every several days, this is the social highlight of my month. I couldn't spend it with a better group of guys.

We've got big things brewing at the club, too. If you live in the New England area and want to stop by, we'd love to have you.

Here's how a typical night goes:

It's an hour's drive for me. Fortunately the traffic was light - and the sunset was spectacular!

Anyone who can arrive early goes to the CB Perkins tobacconist in Canton, MA, between 5 and 6. Bowls are filled and bullshitting commences.

At 6, discussion turns to dinner option. Some prefer a quick slice or two at Papa Gino's. I'm partial to Chinatown, which looks rather unassuming on the outside...

...but actually has a huge, clean kitchen and spacious dining room. Portions are huge, service is quick, prices are cheap. $11.95 for pork fried rice, Szechuan beef, boneless spare ribs, and hot and sour soup. Really enough for three meals, but I ate the whole thing in one sitting.

No food photography, sorry. I didn't want the guys to think I was one of those bloggers. (I also haven't told them I pose my pipes with a doll. They can find that out on their own.)

Then it's off to the meeting hall, which is a sportsman's club for shooters. Quite often there's someone in the range popping off a few rounds while me meet, and in warmer months there might be archery or skeet shooting going on outside. Tonight our conversations were punctuated by the occasional pop of a .22 - nothing too obtrusive.

We're all extremely grateful that the club is happy to have us, and that they don't mind our smoking. (In years past we met in a Holiday Inn, and then in a Synagogue.)

Lots of conversations about favorite blends, new pipe acquisitions, current events from both sides of the political spectrum (wouldn't you know it - pipe smokers who disagree can still talk to each other) and even some crypto-currency talk.

Our oldest member is turning 90 next month. Back when he turned 80, he asked his doctor if he should quit smoking. The doctor said, "It hasn't killed you yet. If you enjoy it, why would you stop?"

Then there's club business to be brought to the table. Debated, discussed, analyzed, and voted on. Some folks to the south of us are starting a Fall River chapter of the club, so we had to hash out the design of their certificate and the wording of the by-laws. It's riveting stuff!

After that, the raffles!

The usual one is $3 for five tickets, with a couple chances to win a tin of tobacco or some other pipe related paraphernalia. I've done well in the past. But not tonight.

Then there's the secondary bonus raffle. The club newsletter, complied and published by our dauntless secretary, always contains instructions to bring a particular sort of pipe or item to the meeting, to receive free ticket.

This month the challenge was to bring in an especially meaningful pipe, and to share the story behind it. So I brought this rather clunky red "Basket" (bargain) pipe, and told the story of how my cigar-smoking girlfriend gave it to me in 1995, introducing me to pipe smoking for the first time.

We were married less than two years later.

So I received my ticket, and then I won!

The prize? A long necked Canadian!

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No, not one of these. These arrived on their own.

We're talking about one of these:

I'm not sure why a pipe with a long wooden shank is called a Canadian, it just is. Maybe someone north of the border can explain it to me. In any case, it's a lovely, januty shape for a pipe - and fairly rare. The oval-shaped shank is difficult to carve, since it has to be shaped by hand - it can't be turned on a lathe.

And because it's so long, it has to come from a huge piece of briar. The bowl and the stem of this pipe are all of one piece.

It's an older pipe, stamped "Harry's" on the top and "Genuine Imported Briar" on the side. Most likely it was made in house for an American tobacco shop, maybe this place in Philadelphia, sometime in the 1960s era, when larger blocks of briar were more common. Our club president picked it up somewhere in his travels in poor, well-smoked condition and restored it in his workshop, where he performs pipe restoration as a relaxing hobby.

So now I've got a new pipe with a new great story behind it, and a great bit of nostalgia for the next time a challenge like this comes up in ten years.

Are you a smoker? Would you be interested in attending a meeting of like minded enthusiasts?

What do you collect? And which sentimental items are especially precious to you?