Why I Think David Pipher is a Swell Guy

Why I Think David Pipher is a Swell Guy

Phil Hassey

June 9, 2006

            Dave Pipher is a swell guy for three reasons.  One, he isn’t very pretentious.  Two, he’d look just peachy in a burgundy sweater.  Three, he’s got a good health mix of vices and virtues.  The long and short of it is he should learn to play an accordion.

            Dave is not very pretentious.  Fact is, when I first met him he gave no pretenses about his disgust at the fact that I had married one of Tim’s close relatives.  He elucidated his disgust in words which I don’t typically include in my “family friendly” stories.  I think he used all the words ... even that one ... multiple times.  No shame, didn’t hide it, he was just plain disturbed and disgusted by the whole situation. 

            That’s okay.  It’s good for people to be honest about their feelings.  I’ve seen far too much dishonesty lately to have any complaints about Dave’s direct approach to conveying his personal thoughts.

            Of course, not everyone took their first impressions of Dave quite so well as I did.  Some people thought he was a poser.  “He wears Pink Floyd t-shirts,” explained one fellow.

            Not understanding the problem with wearing t-shirts, especially when one was not a body builder, as Dave clearly was not, I pursued the issue.

            “See, he wears the t-shirts.  Everyone does that.  He even has posters, and he even listens to the music.  But he doesn’t understand the lyrics.”

            Oh, he didn’t understand the lyrics.  What a tragedy.  Not that anyone really had a long discussion with Dave about the lyrical content of the music, but he was probably just a poser.  But on the other hand who cares.  If he liked the music, good for him.  If he liked the posters, good for him.  He didn’t seem afraid to display it.  No point hiding anything there.

            Speaking of other hands, the other hand is, recently he’s confessed to feelings of great inferiority when around people in a similar age group.  I say, forget it.  People are either going to like you or they aren’t going to like you.  I liked him even though he was disgusted by me.  The “lyrical expert” didn’t like him just because he didn’t want to.  Good.  Let’s move on people.

            Really, if anyone wants to feel inferior because feeling inferior gives them a feeling of inferior power, I suggest they go to “Crazy Eddie’s Discount Self-Esteem Camp.”  About a decade ago I wrote a good deal about my experiences at the camp.  Burgundy sweaters, gerbil like exercise program, mandatory reading materials, dried fruits and more.  A week at “Camp” will make anyone feel inferior.  Not to mention you get a free burgundy sweater as a part of attending camp, which I must say, Dave would look quite keen if he wore one of those babies in public.

            For vices and virtues, take your pick.  The last time I saw Dave was when he visited Lake City last year.  Rumor on the street is that he was worried about seeing me because he was concerned that I was mad at him.  I think it was residual guilt from his reaction to me six years previous, or maybe it was just totally imagined fear because he just assumed that I was mad with everyone because of my ever hostile demeanor. 

            Whatever the case may be, when he appeared we all had one of those great awkward moments.

            “Hi,” someone said, followed by mutual exchange of others saying the same.

            “So,” someone said.  This was backed up with some nods and someone mentioning that everyone looked pretty well all things considered and that we were going to have a campfire over there.  After the committee worked things out, we headed over to have the campfire.

            An hour or so later after having some good food, talk of the good times, admiration of Mark’s bargemanship skills, we had a few cigars and headed home for the evening.  I think by now Dave had gotten used to me being Tim’s brother-in-law.

            As for the accordion, I just think it fits nicely.  Accordion players wear burgundy sweaters, have a few vices, and obviously don’t have a lick of pretense.  Otherwise they wouldn’t be accordion players.