PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT

This thought was provoked by something that I saw today.  It was something that I had not seen for some time.  It used to be more common than it seems to be now.   During the few moments after the event was finished, I wondered if it became more uncommon in my life because of the change of domicile.  I was wondering if it would be more common in the Northeast than it is here in Southern California.  "IT" is a man smoking a pipe.  I saw one this afternoon walking on the sidewalk.  Oh, believe it, we still do have sidewalks in Southern California.  They don't get used as much here as they do in other parts of the world.  That's because Californians usually shy away from driving their cars on them.  So, sure, we have sidewalks with people walking on them.  We also have roads where cars are usually zipping about and where the occasional pedestrian tries to usurp the space.  That's always an interesting confrontation.
So, here's this man with a pipe in his mouth.  Pipe people are somewhat like cigar people.  As long as they have something in their mouth, they're happy.  They'll chomp and lick and suck and cough and spit and wipe it all off on their sleeve.  (This is a link to something related in case you're wondering.)  Smoking is almost secondary to them.  Cigarette smokers are the puffers and coughers.  They are the heavy duty addicts to nicotine.  (Click here to hear the song.)  I smoked one or two cigarettes in my whole life.  I hated them.  I did smoke a little bit of pipe, but that didn't do anything for me either, so I never even got halfway through a small can of Prince Albert.  I really got serious  smoking a pipe though when I discovered what really goes well in a pipe.  I smoked for a couple years then.  For good or for bad, the Voice from the Kitchen prevailed upon me to set aside that little vice in exchange for the virtue of a continuous and felicitous matrimonial relationship.  I am here to tell you, however, that there is no better place to stash yer weeeed than in a short stemmed, big bowl, corncob pipe.  A course, ya don't just stash it, ya light it too 'n jess let it flow through you while it caresses yer brain and kneads yer heart so'se ya get ta lovin' everyone an' don't never wanna come back ta where ya think ya have ta be.  Heeee.  Well, I got back to where I had to be.  Anyway, Delta-9-Tetrahydrocannabinol is a lot harder to remember than good old ethyl alcohol.  Now that's real easy.   It almost killed me, though.  So, you can't win.  Stick with the Voice from the Kitchen and the whispers of your guardian angel, and when you want something, just say, "Our Father..." and you'll live happier and longer than you ever would the other way.
Yep, I thought of all of that just because I saw a man walking on the sidewalk with a pipe in his mouth.  What will I think of next?