I haven’t had much time this past week to think and write, because of some landlord problems. Looks like I’m gonna need some new digs. And that takes a lot of time and energy, energy that could otherwise go into thinking and writing. Oh well, that’s life. I guess you’ve gotta have a roof over your head before you can think and write.
One of my present landlord’s worst sins is his demand that I remove some of the books and magazines that I have piled up in my apartment. He’s the kind of guy that probably doesn’t have a lot of books in his place. Not exactly a book lover, this fellow. This is the last time that I live in an apartment in the same house with the owner. They’re little fascists about their precious little estates, always telling you not to do something or not liking the way that you dry your dishes or whatever. My landlord is now trying to sell the place (as he and his wife are tired of having tenants, and the values around here have skyrocketed lately because of the new train service to Manhattan). That has pushed him well into the tyrant zone. Time to go, especially since any new owner with any brains is gonna totally re-do this place, and thus kick us all out anyway.
Because of all this housing turmoil, I haven’t had much time to bring down any of the mini-brainstorms and mental associations that drift thru my head over the course of the week, which are the raw material for this blog. Therefore, I’ll have to reflect on some of the more raw, primal things of life for now. Like perfume. There are a lot of women, old and young, where I work. But rarely do any of them wear perfume (which is just as well). However, last Thursday, I noticed two of them wearing it. Two in one day!
The first woman was an older hen, a secretary whose been there for decades and decades. She had to leave early to go to the dentist that day. I guess that back in her time, going to the dentist was an occasion for a woman to spray on a bit of cologne or whatever. I guess that kind of thing was once a social requirement for a women; any formal occasion, including consulting a health professional, required a splash of scent. Well, the scent in question here was also quite an old one, something that reminded me of the flowery, sweet and cloying perfumes that my mother used to wear (for going to the dentist or whatever – maybe even the supermarket!). I never liked those scents; I had to open the windows in the car even if it was a cold winter day. And then if my dad lit up a cigarette (maybe as to drown out the smell of my mother’s perfume), it was totally disgusting. Burning tobacco and cloying flowers – no wonder I used to throw up so much when I was a kid!
The second woman was a bit younger, and was wearing something quite different. She was a clerk from the homicide unit, just bringing some paperwork over to the desk next to me. She wasn’t dressed up or anything, the usual slacks and pull-over shirts that clericals who handle a lot of files wear. But for whatever reason, she was wearing some new-generation perfume, something that starts out smelling like clean linen, and then mixes in a variety of citrus and herbal tones. As she passed me (I don’t know her, although I’ve seen her around), it was like, whoa, what’s this nasal symphony in the air? The woman in question was nothing to fall in love with, but her taste in perfume was to be commended (although you’ve still got to wonder about her judgement – why would she put on a splash just to walk over to the Administration Unit? We’re not like dentists or anything).
Hmm, glad to know that they’re now making more interesting kinds of perfumes than the ones that my mother wore (and the older secretary still wears). Although we don’t think about it too much, smells are still an important thing in the daily life of species homo sapiens. (As is having a roof over your head).