“Spray!” Andy’s wife, Annie, called across the bedroom. Andy was about to enter the bathroom that Sunday morning. A second earlier, he had told her that he had to go really bad. #2. He added that it was kind of unusual that his “Sunday friend” was visiting so early in the morning, but the tacos they had eaten the night before had apparently woken up before he had.
“I always do,” he called back.
“Yes. You sure do. You’re doing it now. Bum burps don’t count,” she clarified. “I mean afterwards – but be sure use the air freshener after you’re done, too!”
Busted. Andy went into the bathroom, sat down, remembered his orders, and started to think. (He had read all the magazines.)
The “use the air freshener” reminder brought back memories of other airs. For starters, Andy remembered those rare occasions when he was a kid and his mother would cook rutabagas. Apparently, for some reason, his dad liked them. Whenever she cooked them, Andy had to leave the house. Literally leave. Go outdoors. Regardless of the weather. Get away from the smell. The stench. It made him sick. Turned his stomach. Those damn rutabagas stank. He thought of them as God’s bad joke on humanity.
However, on the other hand, on other occasions, his mom would fry up some liver. The smell of liver often has the same effect on others that rutabaga had on Andy. In contrast, he absolutely loved the smell of cooking liver. Liver and onions. Liver and bacon. So good! Funny how that works, huh?
To shake that nasty rutabaga memory, Andy remembered years ago when Annie was pregnant for the first time. It was a whole new experience for both of them. Pregnancy changes a lot of things; however, little did either of them know the impact pregnancy would have on Annie’s nose. She had always had a very sensitive nose, totally attuned to all those little odor molecules that float through the air. Sometimes that was really helpful, but at other times, it could be a pain in the schnoz. During pregnancy was one of those times. Two of the smells which all but turned her stomach were the smell of rice cooking in a rice cooker, and the fragrance of Andy’s favorite, lime-scented after shave. Of all things! One a warm, comfort-food aroma; the other a usual turn-on fragrance. For nine months, they ate no rice, and he wore no after shave. That was followed by the sweet smell of a newborn…and diapers.
Andy’s eyes floated around the bathroom, and his mind shifted yet again. Seeing the laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom made him think about BO. He suspected that no one with functioning olfactories really liked the smell of stinky diapers or body odor. Otherwise, stores would be selling a lot less soap, deodorants, and perfumes – and after shaves. People would not be changing underwear or washing our clothes as often, and, God knows, they wouldn’t change our bed sheets. Luckily, the laundry basket had a lid.
So, what else is out there, he thought, right under everybody’s noses.
He shook his head as if to clear his mind. And this time, his mind flipped to those smells which almost everyone loves, fragrances which generate pleasant, happy memories. Roses. Lilacs blooming in the spring. Fresh baked cookies coming out of the oven. Hamburgers grilling on the barbeque. He thought of the holiday smell of a freshly cut Christmas tree when it is first brought into the house. That “pleasant” list could potentially become quite long. It struck him, though, that the one smell may have different impacts on different people. One man’s fragrance may be another man’s stink.
“How are you doing?” Annie called. “Fine,” he called back. That’s when he his mind started to sniff around some of those other things.
Back in the day, English Leather had been a popular cologne for a lot of young guys. Andy had thought it smelled great. He thought he smelled great. He remembered one day, noticing a friend’s cologne – (after shave, really, but who shaved?). It was not bad, but he did not really like it. He asked what it was. When the friend told him that it was English Leather, Andy wondered, “Is that what I smell like to other people?” That was when he changed his cologne to the new great fragrance – Canoe. Powerful. A teenager and his after shave. Overwhelming, perhaps?
Sitting there on the john, Andy then remembered a perfume that his mother used to wear. It, too, had a very nice fragrance. Everyone seemed to like it. However, one night on a date, and the young lady he was with happened to be wearing that same perfume. It turned out to be their first and last date.
Still there on the poop stoop, Andy thought of some of his own personal favorite nose teasers. Some may also be universal, he thought, popular at any time. Some, like the Christmas tree, may be seasonal. Some may be well known, but less often thought of as nose favorites. Then, too, other may well be very person-specific.
Andy thought this might sound strange, but each smell carried a memory or a story. For example, dog poop. But only in the spring. This one seems to have gotten lost over time, somehow, though. His mind wandered, stepping carefully. A peculiarly springtime smell, Andy re membered that the aroma of dog poop used to fill the air as it thawed in the warmth of early spring. As strange as it may seem, as the snow and winter cold gave way to the season of renewal, all the poop which dogs had dropped, and had frozen during the winter, began to thaw and melt into the softer earth. In doing so, it gave off the mellow fragrance of natural fertilizer. By the time anyone might walk where it had been dropped, frozen and finally defrosted, it was gone. The aroma lingered for a short time before it dissipated. The earth was richer for it.
Moving from spring to summer, Andy thought of thunderstorms. He loved the smell of ozone before a good, summer storm. It reminds me of when he was a kid, watching thunderstorms roll out of the west over our little hometown. It is a tingly, exciting smell of nature preparing us for a downpour. Then, after the storm passes, the sun comes out, and the air smells fresh and clean. Plants, trees, and flowers grow. Grass grows, too. And before long, grass needs to be mowed. Mowing may be a chore, but he also loved the soothing, green smell of a newly mown lawn is, a strong scent of summer.
Still thinking of summer, chlorine came to mind. Clorox is OK, but here, he was thinking of swimming pools and of the chlorine used to keep the water safe. These days, Andy swims in an indoor pool which has a more powerful aroma than an outdoor pool, but the aroma of pools, in general, is welcoming. It may sound strange to some people, but after a good swim in a well-maintained pool, Andy almost hesitated to shower off. He loves the residual fragrance which the chlorine leaves on his skin.
Still sitting on the toilet, still thinking of summer, Andy thought, “Skunk!” That is one hell of a stinky smell! As long as he hadn’t been sprayed directly, as long as there is a bit of time and space between the skunk and him, Andy somehow liked the stink. There are probably only a very, very small handful of people on earth who can say that. To him, though, the smell of skunk is closely associated with summer, with driving down the highway, windows open on a warm July evening. It is also realizing that someone else had the bad luck to actually hit or run over a skunk. (That’s the nasty, never-goes-away smell of skunk.) But in that warm distance, the smell of skunk is comforting and warm.
And from summer into fall, another seasonal fragrance Andy loved was burning leaves. Back in the day, his house was on a corner lot, surrounded by big, old, leafy elm trees. In autumn, the leaves would fall. Raking the fallen leaves was one of the seasonal chores which the kids had to do. But once raked into piles around the yard, there were two – no actually three – follow-up actions. The first, of course, was to jump into big piles of soft, golden leaves. That had its own special autumn fragrance. The next was to take bundles of leaves and pack them around the bottoms of the decorative shrubs which surrounded the house. Big house, lots of shrubs. They took plenty of the leaves. But not nearly all of them. As the final follow-up, with parents’ help, the kids got to burn the rest. There were always more than plenty left to burn.
That process involved toting the remaining leaves to the street on one side of the house. There was no actual curb on the side, and they just dumped the leaves into a big heap – and set them afire. As the first fire get smaller, the kids added more until all the leaves were gone. The smell of burning leaves filled the neighborhood – indeed the whole town, as neighbors near and far did the same. Sometimes the kids would stand close to or in the path of the smoke so that they would carry the aroma with them when the work was done.
Speaking of smoke, Andy’s next though was of incense. Do you like incense? Some people do; other definitely do not. Growing up, Andy had been an altar boy. For years and years, during various services, incense was part of the ceremony. Easter, funerals, some novenas, some other special Masses all called for burning incense. Altar boys would vie for the role of thurifer, the acolyte who carried the censor, and who often even got to light the fire. It was a cool job which usually went to the more senior among the servers. When the time came in the service, the altar boy would sprinkle incense on the burning charcoal inside the thurifer, and watch the smoke rise up. He would let the lid slide back down into place, and then swing the burning incense so that the smoke and smell spread as far and wide as we could make it go. Later, after the service, that altar boy got to put out the coals and cool the thurifer. A variation of a spray, and great fun for a kid! Great fragrance. “Maybe that’s what I need right now,” he thought.
Sticking with the smoky theme, most people do not really like the smell of cigarette smoke. Although as kids, most of the adults around Andy’s family smoked, the never smell appealed to him. Nor did cigar smoke. Occasionally, pipe tobacco had a pleasant aroma, but not enough to make him want to try it. However, there is one smoke-smell which Andy remembered that he did like. He suspected that most everyone had experienced this one, but he also suspected that almost no one considers it pleasant. The smell: old cigarette smoke mixed with stale beer. It is a smell which wafts out the door of a cheap tavern. The memory of that ‘aroma’ brought back memories of riding with his father to the Flatiron Grill on Lehigh Avenue, a block beyond the end of downtown.
Andy’s dad was not a big drinker by any stretch of the imagination. But their hometown was in Pennsylvania, and the only places where one could buy take-out beer were from beer distributors, or bars and taverns. The quantity was limited, but, every once in a while, his dad would drive the few blocks to the Flatiron for some take-home beer. Sometimes, Andy got to go along with him for a ride. His dad would go into the bar; Andy would stay in the car. As he sat there in the car for the five or ten minutes, Dad was inside, he would roll down the window and take in that stale cigarettes and beer smell. Soon, his dad would be back in the car, and they would head home. Andy loved the ride, their time together, and that funky smell which brings back memories of both.
Sitting there on his throne, Andy realized that he was remembering all the smells, aromas, odors and fragrances. He was also remembering situations, people, and good times. He knew that was not actually smelling them; his olfactory senses were not really picking up those various bouquets. Andy realized that the scents were in his head, not in his noses. Interesting, he thought; he had not considered that before.
By now, Andy’s Sunday friend was leaving, the paperwork was done. Good-byes were said. He flushed, walked out and washed up.
“Did you spray?” Annie asked as he exited the bathroom.
“Sure did,” he said – and winked. “You’re gonna love it!”
