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Message: <blockquote data-quote="nofearfactor" data-source="post: 2750831" data-attributes="member: 1535"><p>Being Memorial Day I am remembering my father today. He was a Marine, served in Korea. He was Scottish/Irish. He loved his scotch, bourban, pipes and cigars. When we grew up my dad had this room that we were supposed to stay completely the hell out of unless invited in there (and like kids we snuck in there after school and took sips from the different bottles of alcohol he kept, mostly scotchs and bourban). The room had a bar, a snooker table, a card table, and his humidor. His friends hung out in there mostly, drinking and smoking and playing snooker or cards, mostly on Friday or Saturday nights. I was invited to come play snooker or cards many times with my father, which strangely was interaction with him his style as he was old skool and didnt throw too many footballs or play catch with a ball and glove, time with him was being taught to box in his garage gym or working in his mechanic shop and at his auto parts store. I will never forget the smells of his many different pipes and cigars and the sting of whatever he happened to be drinking at the time. He poured it, neat only, and you drank it. 12-21, he didnt care cause back in those days no one did. Im not much of a smoker, thats my younger brother, so I never shared one of his prized cigars with him. He smoked them, but he also was a chewer as much as a smoker, I dont remember him never not having one in his mouth after he walked out the door to start his day. It was just a part of his style. My favorite picture of him is from about 1958 or so with him sitting on this big ol Indian Chief motorcycle, Marine buzzcut, and that cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth like it was the entire time I knew the guy, always unlit.</p></blockquote><p></p>

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