One year & nine days ago my wife gave me a birthday present. I tore the paper off, & there it was. A beautiful green box emblazoned with the last name of my 8-year-old daughter’s piano teacher. Now, Mrs. Peterson is short, & well-kempt for her age, not altogether unattractive, but I certainly didn’t think she could fit inside the box. Although, it did mention Dublin, Ireland, & naturally, I own a DVD copy of Sean Connery’s finest performance. But Darby O’Gil’s people are much smaller than Mrs. Peterson.
I undress…I mean, digress. (Sorry, ladies.)
So I open this beautiful green box, excited, remember all the reasons I worked so hard to trick this woman into marrying me 20 years ago. What did I find? A picture of a Peterson pipe. That’s it. To her credit, she did use my color printer for the picture. Which also bugged me bc now I also gotta get a new cartridge. But whatevs.
I was instructed by this fine woman to go pick out the one I wanted.
The holidays have just ended. I’ve just turned 44, literally. I’ve sat through 3 Christmases. Led worship at a Christmas Eve service in a barn. Endured 2 Christmas pageants at my daughters’ school. Had way too much human contact. Dreading New Year’s Eve festivities where we simply must have more human contact, stay up past my bed time, & watch people watch a ball drop who have spent the whole day in cattle pens relieving themselves on one another. I’m tired. And she gave me a task for a birthday present. Inside the box of the gift pipe I had given my dad just 4 days earlier.
But honestly, I was not ungrateful. It was very thoughtful of her to not just grab any old pipe that had Peterson on it. She doesn’t know a thing about fishtail vs. p-lip, finishes, etc.
Being the go-getter that I am, yesterday, 355 days later, I finally got around to go-getting that task accomplished. Snagged this beaut from Schwab’s in Lex.
P.S.: if you stop in, give Jeff a handshake, condolences, & a brief chat. His mother Pat passed about a month ago. He seemed eager & pleased to talk about her. Even have a tribute to her life on the marquee out front. Pat was very involved in the family business right to the end of her life.
I undress…I mean, digress. (Sorry, ladies.)
So I open this beautiful green box, excited, remember all the reasons I worked so hard to trick this woman into marrying me 20 years ago. What did I find? A picture of a Peterson pipe. That’s it. To her credit, she did use my color printer for the picture. Which also bugged me bc now I also gotta get a new cartridge. But whatevs.
I was instructed by this fine woman to go pick out the one I wanted.
The holidays have just ended. I’ve just turned 44, literally. I’ve sat through 3 Christmases. Led worship at a Christmas Eve service in a barn. Endured 2 Christmas pageants at my daughters’ school. Had way too much human contact. Dreading New Year’s Eve festivities where we simply must have more human contact, stay up past my bed time, & watch people watch a ball drop who have spent the whole day in cattle pens relieving themselves on one another. I’m tired. And she gave me a task for a birthday present. Inside the box of the gift pipe I had given my dad just 4 days earlier.
But honestly, I was not ungrateful. It was very thoughtful of her to not just grab any old pipe that had Peterson on it. She doesn’t know a thing about fishtail vs. p-lip, finishes, etc.
Being the go-getter that I am, yesterday, 355 days later, I finally got around to go-getting that task accomplished. Snagged this beaut from Schwab’s in Lex.
P.S.: if you stop in, give Jeff a handshake, condolences, & a brief chat. His mother Pat passed about a month ago. He seemed eager & pleased to talk about her. Even have a tribute to her life on the marquee out front. Pat was very involved in the family business right to the end of her life.
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But all’s well that end well. 
