Dead Man’s Cologne
Posted: February 27, 2012 Filed under: Joined at the Heart, Writers Write | Tags: Emory University, Lanny Naegelin, memory, Olfactory System, Scent Memory, Symphony 4 Comments »
Yesterday, Coco played violin in a side-by-side, the San Antonio Youth Orchestra and the San Antonio Symphony. I had just settled into my seat, when I got a whiff that took me back to 1997. I was riding in a car through North Druid Hills on the outskirts of Atlanta, en route to Emory University. Beside me sat my friend and mentor, Lanny Naegelin, a meticulous dresser in a dark suit and a yellow tie. His cologne was recognizable, not overpowering.
I’ve heard the olfactory system moves a scent through the brain directly to the seat of memory, connecting a random woodsy undertone or a top note of citrus instantly to our emotions. Sitting in the concert hall, waiting for the event to begin, I turned to steal a look, hoping against reason to see a familiar face.
I didn’t know the man behind me, so I didn’t speak. But when the lights dimmed, and the music swelled, I closed my eyes and remembered my old friend. It was almost as good as being there.
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Mall Walker
Posted: September 9, 2010 Filed under: Aha!, Writers Write | Tags: loss, memory, perception, politics, writers, writing Leave a comment »Today I went to the mall. I couldn’t remember the last time. There are easier places to shop, and face it, if it isn’t available at the supermarket, it’s probably out of my price range. But today, the thing I needed required a mall.
North Star was once the epitome of cool. Was. I found an empty parking place next to Macy’s. Times have changed. When you walk around in your own Great Recession, self-preservation dictates geographic restrictions. Too painful to shop at Ann Taylor or Talbots? Go for half-off at Marshalls.
My old favorites are gone. No more Baby Gap or Pottery Barn Kids to waltz through. Sharper Image, Bombay Company, Picture People–no more. The bookstores disappeared long ago. Coach is still alive, along with Williams-Sonoma and The Brighton Store, but with their mark up, they can afford a few looky-loos. I was the only customer in J. Crew, despite Michelle Obama’s endorsement. Though, forty-three dollars for an embellished tissue tee is a reach for me. I’ll be scouring Target for the knock-off.
Nothing I’m saying is new. Those of us, formerly of the middle class, live with it. Everyone else can read about it on Huffington Post. But seeing is the shocker. This broken-hearted consumer forgot a maxim. When I can’t buy, they can’t sell.
I found what I went for, but I missed the mall of 1996.
