In my opinion, even the newer Kaywoodies Flame Grains, are hard to beat!
Marxman 400 154 D
- Thread starter Briar Lee
- Start date
I have a couple of Large Dublin Flame Grains, and one has a big ball, and doesn’t say imported briar, and that’s late thirties. The other has a small ball (wartime) and reads Imported Briar (not fake briar). That’s early forties.
They are just incredibly beautiful.
But the early war (?) one is a better smoker.
The pre war Kaywoodie Flame Grains (and until the briar ran out) are the most beautiful factory pipes ever.
There is a man who has a brief case full of Four Hundred pipes. @daveinlax might be able to point me in the right direction. This man, an older man, was a vendor at the Las Vegas Pipe show. He and his wife had a booth close to the lounge area of the pipe show and just about a few rolls over from where one would start strolling down the isles. They were at an end table and had many estate pipes. He was an older man. @daveinlax , do you have any idea who that could be?
Could it have been Rev Rolf table 90???He was there with his wife, close to the lounge and that would be something I can see him selling.
Act Two
Scene One: The elderly gentleman is washed up on a beach. The morning sun illuminates a blood red sky. The surf loudly rushes in around him, running up the shore and covering his body and then receding back into the ocean, rhythmically, over and over. The elderly gentleman's $200 dollar suit has washed off him revealing a white poplin pair of paints and a matching long sleeve shirt indicative of the type of clothing worn by men who work along the shores of the Mediterranean, especially the area around Algeria.
Struggling, the man slowly raises himself to his feet, first pushing himself up at the elbows, and then his knees, and finally standing on his feet. He stumbles forward and gradually reaches the cliff that meets the narrow beach. Raising his right hand, he reaches out and grabs the rocky wall of the cliff and begins lifting himself onto the wall of the cliff.
He climbs. With sharp hard breaths and pointed determination, he pulls himself up and labors to reach the top of the cliff. As the sun sets, the man finally reaches the top of the cliff. Before him is a lone White Heath Tree. Using a nearby broken stone, the man frantically digs until he uncovers the burl of the root of the tree.
It is a thing of beauty. He frees it from the soil and separates it from the rest of the tree.
Elderly Gentleman: (screaming unrestrained) Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Eureka! (he falls to his knees and laughs unrestrained, tears roiling down his face) Four Hundred, Four Hundred!
At this moment, a roaring and rolling wind falls from the sky and blows agains the man. It pushes with increasing intensity against his body. He drops the burl as he places his hands in front of his eyes as he turns his head from the wind.
Elderly Gentleman: No, no, not again!
Falling backwards and falls over the edge as the wind blows his body far over the ocean where he eventually crashes into the water.
(Fade to black.)
Scene Two: Alone on a beach, the elderly gentleman lies sprawled out on his stomach as the surf crashes over his body. The morning sun rises against a red sky and the day repeats again, as it has every day will do every day until penance is paid for all the briar pipes left neglected in a barn from another life in another time.
Scene One: The elderly gentleman is washed up on a beach. The morning sun illuminates a blood red sky. The surf loudly rushes in around him, running up the shore and covering his body and then receding back into the ocean, rhythmically, over and over. The elderly gentleman's $200 dollar suit has washed off him revealing a white poplin pair of paints and a matching long sleeve shirt indicative of the type of clothing worn by men who work along the shores of the Mediterranean, especially the area around Algeria.
Struggling, the man slowly raises himself to his feet, first pushing himself up at the elbows, and then his knees, and finally standing on his feet. He stumbles forward and gradually reaches the cliff that meets the narrow beach. Raising his right hand, he reaches out and grabs the rocky wall of the cliff and begins lifting himself onto the wall of the cliff.
He climbs. With sharp hard breaths and pointed determination, he pulls himself up and labors to reach the top of the cliff. As the sun sets, the man finally reaches the top of the cliff. Before him is a lone White Heath Tree. Using a nearby broken stone, the man frantically digs until he uncovers the burl of the root of the tree.
It is a thing of beauty. He frees it from the soil and separates it from the rest of the tree.
Elderly Gentleman: (screaming unrestrained) Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Eureka! (he falls to his knees and laughs unrestrained, tears roiling down his face) Four Hundred, Four Hundred!
At this moment, a roaring and rolling wind falls from the sky and blows agains the man. It pushes with increasing intensity against his body. He drops the burl as he places his hands in front of his eyes as he turns his head from the wind.
Elderly Gentleman: No, no, not again!
Falling backwards and falls over the edge as the wind blows his body far over the ocean where he eventually crashes into the water.
(Fade to black.)
Scene Two: Alone on a beach, the elderly gentleman lies sprawled out on his stomach as the surf crashes over his body. The morning sun rises against a red sky and the day repeats again, as it has every day will do every day until penance is paid for all the briar pipes left neglected in a barn from another life in another time.
Yes, that looks about right. Can you PM and let me know how I might be able to reach him?
Oh no u don't. You're not going to go grab all the greatest pipes ever created.
He's looking to get me an Unsmoked one for Christmas!Unless hes gonna share!
Probably...
The idea of tracking one down with its custom box really appeals to me, but the pipe is so clunky and ugly, I don’t know if I truly want to go down that road.
There is a bargain alternative.
These two are what I call Marxman “Big Boys”. Marx listed pipes to size C “Massive” for $10 and above those some ads have Extra Large for $15.
They have the same bowl capacity as a 400, are more conventional, and often are cheap online.
They had to be carved from the same size blocks as the 400.
These two are what I call Marxman “Big Boys”. Marx listed pipes to size C “Massive” for $10 and above those some ads have Extra Large for $15.
They have the same bowl capacity as a 400, are more conventional, and often are cheap online.
They had to be carved from the same size blocks as the 400.
Ok sir. I am throughly enjoying your ....jar of pipes..all of which Id probably smoke happily. But how do you get them out from the bottom???
Just imaging its a Two Jar System
lol after smoking the pipe goes in the second jar. Top goes to bottom then reverse as the pipe traverses the two jars.
lol after smoking the pipe goes in the second jar. Top goes to bottom then reverse as the pipe traverses the two jars.
This is the original sin of our country lawyer.
Hoarding. I see a reality TV show in the works.
Looks like a club foot, but if it smokes like a champ then who cares? It has a certain nostalgia about it as well. I love ugly pipes that are great smokers.
Rummaging.
I have just over seventy Lees displayed in my office, with a bucket more in the kitchen.
I might smoke four or five different Lees up there every day.
At home in my garage I have four buckets of pipes.
Three vehicles have pipes stuffed in door pockets and consoles and glove compartments.
There are two campers and my Yamaha Rhino near Bug Tussle with a big bucket of pipes.
As the little boy said I might have a coupla three hunnert.
But the average price I’ve paid is about $25.
Weber Deep Grain Prince in the mail at $27
Three pipes, a Royal, a Three Star Lee, and a Harry Hosterman special for $26.
If I spend over $30 on a pipe it’s a beauty.
Weber Golden Walnut in the mail at $42.
Marxman Straight Grain Bent Chubby Rhodesian in the mail at $82.
As they used to say, those are company pipes, the kind you offer to company to smoke.
When my trophies at last, I lay down my family says they’ll keep ‘em and I hope they double or triple my money back.
Seriously, I baby and love every one of my pipes, every one is clean, and I smoke them all, but it takes a while to rotate my stash.
I buy Everclear by the fifth.
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Whether it be shirts, ties, or watches, every lawyer I’ve ever known hoards something. I’ve known a lawyer who had a storage room full of unopened white work shirts.
Shotguns, pens, pipes, watches, suits, ties and shoes.
Pipes average $25 so more of those, than suits.
Spending a hunnert dollars a month on pipes builds an enormous stash in only a few years.
I buy good American market brands.
My large collection of Allan Edmonds shoes is about thirty years old and get rotated daily and rebuilt as needed.
I bought two thousand dollar suits a year for twenty years and slowed down.
I have so many damned ties I can wear one a day for months.
And the damned Covid made buying classic American shotguns no fun anymore. Besides I have my quota.
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