Stan Galat posted:Bob: IM S6 posted:Smoke? A good briar pipe, some nice aromatic tobacco, and I'm happy.
Add a good cigar once in a while, and life is good.
I would think no less-- but I suspect you smoke sparingly and only after the honest labor of the day is over, when reflecting on the rightness of God's good earth and your place in it. I would surmise you smoke while enjoying a snifter of brandy (on life's special occasions like the birth of a grandchild, or after setting the final piece in a stone wall). Scotch is strictly reserved for events like your 50th wedding anniversary or the day of your retirement.
You live in a 300 y/o stone house that has been in your family for generations. You heat with wood you split and stack yourself. You shovel the pond so the neighbor children will have a nice place to ice skate. You likely have known the townsfolk (who live a respectful distance up the road, and keep themselves to themselves) since you all went to a one-room school together. I can almost see you reading Keats and Wordsworth by the dying light of a fire on a cold winter night, 25 year-old (glass-lens) readers perched on the end of your nose. I suspect you have a Basset hound or two who sleep at the foot of your feather bed, and that you keep a Purdey shotgun over the mantle to hunt quail and grouse (in season).
I'm still wondering how you don't own an Aston Martin or Morgan, but I'm glad you don't so you can hang out with the rest of us unwashed Philistines.
When I grow up, I wanna' be just like you. You sir, are the man.
You are much too praiseful in your description of me, Stan, but I will gladly accept it. These days, one takes praise where one finds it, and coming from such an erudite individual as you, such praise means that much more. When the President of Stanistan deigns to even mention one of his lowly subjects, let alone expound upon in such lengths, one takes notice. I tug at my forelock and salute you.
I shall bask in this praise for as long as I can remember it, and strive to uphold such lofty ideals that you hold of me, as difficult as that may be.
Yes, the Poet of Peoria has once against provided us with such pleasing prose. 
Time for me to stuff my pipe and smoke it...