Good to be a Pipemaker

For the last couple of months, I've been working my way back into a regular "shop-routine." It's been some time since I was able to string together more than about two consecutive half-days in here. Thankfully, I'm now able to wake up on the third story, walk down to the second story to have breakfast with my wife and kids, and then commute to work on foot, down the steps to the first story where my shop is located. This is a hell of a lot better than fighting traffic across town to get to my office where I was responsible for 17 people and all of their problems. My time as a big-shot executive taught me a great deal. It taught me that we're all capable of accomplishing far more than we think, that dealing justly with others does not guarantee just treatment for oneself, that I'm more present as a husband and a father when my mind is not racing to institute new marketing strategies, and that I would prefer to limit my time in custom tailored suits to several hours each Sunday. 

With this transition back into pipe making, the pace of life is slowing down. What's ironic is that I couldn't see just how frenetic it had become until I was viewing it in retrospect. Now I split wood each morning instead of fielding calls and e-mails on my Blackberry. Instead of stopping at Starbucks--Lord, do they make bad coffee--and ordering a medium dark roast in a giant cup so that it wouldn't slosh out and spill in my fancy car, I sit and enjoy an entire pot of French-press before ever picking up a block. I always knew that I would come back to pipemaking. I just didn't realize what a huge part of my life it was. More so, I didn't realize what a part of our family life it was. Both of my boys, Cooper (4) and William (2) spend the better part of their day pretending either to be Firemen or pipemakers. They visit me in the shop, stoke the fire, put on my respirator and sweep up wood shavings.

In brief, I'm able to keep far better company these days. I love to listen to them running around upstairs, Mom chasing after them, all of it ending in a huge pile of thuds and laughter just above me in the living room. Nowadays, I'm always home for lunch, I never spend time stuck in traffic, and I can ignore Tennessee's laws about a smoke-free workplace. To quote my friend Tom Eltang, "It's good to be a pipemaker."