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Squirrels in My Attic

On August 11, 1991, after 37 years of devoutly offering burnt offerings to heaven, I smoked my pipe for the last time, quitting, as they say, cold duck.  I had taken up pipe smoking because I thought it denoted a kindly, reflective, manly person such as I considered myself to be.

 

In those days the shelves of tobacco shops were stacked with products for theologians.  For regular clergy there was a tobacco called "Parson's Pleasure."  For students of the 16th century the famous "Sir Walter Raleigh" (naturally my favorite).  Biblical types smoked "Revelation" and ecumenists could associate with "Four Nuns."  There was even a mouth-searing aromatic called "Presbyterian Mixture" which out of ...

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