Damn. I missed the farewell to Mike. I'm not going to let that go. I'll be sending him a note. I sure hate to see him leave but I do understand. I hope everyone here is doing great.
I was in a local B&M vape shop a couple of weeks ago, and was talking with the rugrat behind the counter. He recognized the
Vari protruding from my shirt pocket, but wasn't impressed. I name-dropped my other noteworthy possessions: my
Silver Bullet, my
Darwin, my
Phidias wooden bottom-feeder.
Silence. He didn't know what I was talking about.
I pulled out my Ace-in-the-hole: "I have a black
Buzz Classic, the original, and a
Buzz Pro, the descendant."
Silence.
I reached into my bag for the final Coup de grâce: "...and a copper
Infinity, one of the first lot. It has a serial number, was supposed to be brass but the Korean machine shop ....ed it up and made it copper."
Silence.
I fumbled for something, anything, any point of contact to fill the awkwardness. "What sort of tobacco flavors do you have in your E-liquid?"
"E-liquid? You mean juice? Oh, we got a RY4, but that tobacco .... doesn't sell."
Exiting myself from the building and the conversation, I thought of how vaping has become far more popular and technologically sophisticated—but not improved. You, Mike and I understand the quality inherent to a pre-CBS Fender
Telecaster, and a pre-AMF Harley Davidson
Sportster—and a first-lot
Infinity, and a
Buzz Classic.
A
History of Vaping will one day be written, and you, Mike and I will be featured with the same prominence as the signers of the
Declaration of Independence are in treatments of American History.
Mike got his patent—made his mark. And he was done with it.