Ah, pipes. I like pipes. If I owned a pipe, I'd sit on my porch in a rocking chair and beckon neighborhood children to listen to my long, elaborate stories of my time in 'Nam. Then if one of the children pointed out that I had just recounted the plot summary of Saving Private Ryan in vague terms because I hadn't actually seen the movie, I'd throw glitter into their eyes and escape on my motorcycle. Because I'd be the neighborhood eccentric, and I like to keep kids on their toes.