Nothing peaks one's interest more than scent.
Calling to mind many things. Like coffee.
Every morning I grind my beans as the water
boils. A rote ritual that always satisfies. Yet
it's the scent of those freshly ground tidbits
that I find oddly reassuring. Affirmation that
no matter what each day brings, some things
never change. Hence just by one whiff one's
world can change for better or worse. Causing
a Pavlovian response that can inspire, comfort,
entice, or alarm. A veritable feast for the senses,
fragrant reminders to times past. Even if they
may at times stink to high heaven.
Each of us have our own innate triggers. And
when it comes to odors that can be good or
bad. One sniff of Shalimar and suddenly my
Mother is here once more. And little brings
back my youth more than that musty mix of
mold and urine that greets me as I descend
into the subway. What better a wake up call
that the smell of bacon frying in the skillet?
Or the intoxicatingly refreshing eau de mown
grass. To each his/her own. What zings my
strings may be of no consequence to you.
My heaven your hell. So breathe deep and
enjoy whatever flows your way.
Obviously there are some things that stink. And
little is more repulsive than a whiff of unfettered
cruelty. Which lately has been accompanied by
a cloud of tear gas. Which is not only a violation
of one's senses but their inalienable rights. While
I haven't taken a trip Washington D.C. as of late -
something tells me it's filled with an underlying
parfum de peur. Said stench not so subtle proof
that many of our leaders are sweating big time.
Rather than a dose of deodorant what they need
is a conscience. Along with a desire to change
with the times rather than fight the inevitable.
However sadly, all that I smell is a big fat rat...
