New Vintages Project Publications

Pipe scholars Ben Rapaport and Jon Guss have been hard at work creating new publications for the Vintages project. There are not one, but two new articles ready for your study and enjoyment.

For meerschaum fans, Ben’s article includes a redacted transcription of a rare oral history recalling noted meerschaum carver Gustav Fischer and his son.  The interview was conducted with Gustav Senior’s daughter-in-law, Anna, a few years before her death.

Jon’s article explores strategies and common errors in dating 19th Century pipes and tobaccos. It’s a thoughtful and clear presentation on how to apply methodologies used in other disciplines to improve our own accuracy.

These publications are real gifts to our hobby. I hope you enjoy them and treasure them as much as I do.

Dad's Gift

I was 16 years old, and it was the Christmas season. I found myself wondering what gift I might buy for my Dad that year. I had recently established a good income for myself teaching guitar lessons in my hometown of Cody, Wyoming where I was commanding the lordly sum of $5.00 a lesson.

Teaching a dozen students per week – after school and on Saturdays – in my mind I was raking it in. While sixty bucks a week doesn’t sound like much now, in 1968 it wasn’t bad at all, especially for a kid who’d only cleared $25 a month delivering newspapers only several years before.  In 1968, the average new car sold for $2,822, the average house sold for $15,000, a gallon of gas was 34 cents, and the average movie ticket was $1.50. Yep, I was doing all right for a high school sophomore.

It wasn’t easy to buy gifts for my father. Ridiculous as it seems now, then I believed he had everything and needed nothing. I certainly never heard him talk about things he wanted but couldn’t afford. Then again, he has always been someone who hasn’t needed things to be happy.

One day, we were working in Dad’s wood shop. He was smoking his pipe while he helped me make a lamp for my bedroom. I had just finished turning the lamp base on the lathe, and he was showing me how to face off the lamp body so that it would snugly fit on the oak base I had separately turned. Somehow, his pipe dropped from his mouth, hit the turning lamp, and rocketed into the wall, breaking in half. While he took events in stride, I could see he was saddened. Dad only had a half dozen or so pipes on his rack.

Because I wasn’t a pipe smoker in those days, I didn’t understand the bond between a pipe smoker and his pipe. No matter how many pipes a man has, losing one is a big deal, but it’s a bigger deal when you haven’t got many in the first place.

That day I resolved to buy my Dad a pipe for Christmas. I had no idea where I’d buy one. There were no tobacconists in town. Pipes were sold at a drug store and at a general store-news stand called The Post Office Store run by a former paper route customer and family skiing companion, Stanley Landgren. I talked to Stan and he told me I’d have to go to Billings to find a good enough pipe for my father. So, I resolved to drive the 120 miles north to get my dad a Christmas pipe.

Click to read more ...