I hear people talking all the time about how a certain song takes them back. I’ve had that experience on many occasions myself and it’s enjoyable and comforting for just an instant. Music can be a trigger to the past for some but I find that my sense of smell works better for me. A certain smell can capture me and move me to a different time and place. It can be so vivid to a specific incident that I can close my eyes and see the exact spot, smell the exact smells, and see the people who were there. It’s an amazing transition and it usually happens when I least expect it.
If I pick up a baseball glove in Walmart, the smell of the leather sends me back in 1955 as I was driving with my father to my first Little League practice. Interestingly enough Elvis Pressley was singing Heartbreak Hotel on the radio at the time.
Over the years I’ve frequently spent time on shooting ranges to stay proficient with my pistol. On certain wet and rainy days coupled with the smell of gunpowder, takes me immediately back to the summer of 1968 and my time in the Korean DMZ for the Army. I still break out in a cold sweat because it seems so damn real.
There’s one other memory I’d like to recall but I do so cautiously. My father was something of a farting professional. He enjoyed nothing better than to take me food shopping with him which was always a bit embarrassing for me. He was a phantom farter who would leave SBD’s in an aisle and then walk to an adjacent aisle to enjoy the reactions. I can’t tell you on how many occasions I was blamed for being the culprit as he hid laughing hilariously nearby. Still after all these years if I smell a fart in any food store I automatically think of my Dad.
How about the smell of Jean Nate. My first real tongue-on-tongue kiss was done to the smell of Jean Nate. It was 1961 and we were at the Friday night dance at St. Ladislaus Church. We kissed briefly in the alley behind the church and believe me it was memorable. Unfortunately for me my mother came to love Jean Nate a year of so later which created a lot of confusion for me. That smell still takes me back to that alley for that incredible kiss but I keep thinking my mother’s sneaking around somewhere and will unexpectedly show up. It’s a little disconcerting and a major distraction to a wonderful memory. By the way Kathy G., it still remains a wonderful kiss.
So for those of you who are moved by music, and those of us who are moved by smell, we’re the lucky ones. I fear there are many people out there who aren’t moved by much of anything. Links to their past are either too painful to relive and they’ve blocked them or they just don’t care at all.
Why are farts and farting so funny? I don’t have the answer to that either but you have to admit the subject is always hilarious and 99% of the population would agree. As I’ve traveled around I’ve become attuned over time to those particular body movements when one is on the way and the ever so unusual sounds used in attempts to disguise those SBD’s (Silent But Deadly).
Yesterday was a good example. I stopped by a local Target store to pickup a few items. The place was crowded with the normal assortment of customers all roaming around doing shopping stuff. I was walking through the Kitchen Department minding my own business when I walked into a cloud of what can only be called toxic fumes. About five steps away from me was the only other occupant of the aisle and the obvious depositor of that nasty gas cloud. She refused to look at me and stood quietly staring at her shoes. If she thought playing possum was going to work she had another think coming. I slowly edged toward her as I was pretending to peruse the items on the shelf hoping to pull the cloud along with me. Of course I was holding my breath the entire time. She waited until I was very close and then glanced my way and smiled a cutesy little grin. She then squirmed a little which should have been a red flag for me and quickly walked away. I took one additional step and got nailed by another fart cloud that was so bad my eyes began watering and making it impossible to see for a few seconds. The perp had disappeared in that cloud of noxious fumes after her successful double ambush. She was one of those perverted types who love to stick around to watch their victims suffer. For someone so young she was a real pro.
My father would have been so proud of her. He was a master of filling an aisle with a nasty fart and then walking away. His farts had a "hang time" of five or six minutes which I’ve never been able to duplicate. He would stand in the next aisle and get off listening to the people gag and curse as they were enveloped. He never felt the need to stick around and see his results in person.
I felt a little violated and somewhat disgusted by her cowardly act of fart terrorism. I decided to do the normal and well thought out thing, revenge. It was time to locate and identify another unsuspecting victim and pass it on.
You need to remember that for the last two months I’ve been strictly following a diet which requires that I eat tons of vegetables. I’ve become a stinky, nasty, and disgusting fart machine. I no longer have total control of my farting and seem to be farting non-stop most of the time. I walked into the Cosmetic Department and settled in to lay my trap. An older woman and her two young daughters made the mistake of cruising through the danger zone. I laid down a path of cucumber and onion gas that was so bad I had to leave immediately. I stood nearby and waited and discovered that Mom had some mouth on her. She was gagging and cursing loudly and the two girls immediately fled the scene. They wanted that to avoid the gas cloud and also the embarrassment of their Mommy’s trash mouth. I freaking loved it.
You have to admit, that was damn funny. I know my later father is up there in heaven (maybe) and laughing his ass off. He was always big on upholding family traditions and would be happy as hell to see that I’m still carrying on one of his favorites. Now for a funny fart joke and I’m done for today.
Doctor, "What seems to be the problem?" Patient, "Doc, I’ve got the farts. I mean I fart all the time." The Doctor nods, "Hmm." Patient, "My farts do not stink and you can’t hear them. It’s just that I fart all the time. Look, we’ve been talking here for about 10 minutes and I’ve farted five times. You didn’t hear them and you don’t smell them, do you?" "Hmm," says the Doctor. He picks up his pad and writes out a prescription. The patient is thrilled "Great doc. This prescription, will it really clear up my farts?" "No," sighs the Doctor, "The prescription is to clear your sinuses. Next week I want you back here for a hearing test."
One last tidbit of a few new fart euphemisms I stumbled upon:
Mud Duck Trouser Cough Crack Splitters Turd Tooties Anal Audio Great Brown Cloud
Have a wonderful day and be careful out there. You’ll never know which aisle will be “The One” until it’s too late.
everyuselessthing.com 