60+ year old thread.

Well done Sir

 

@Travlr @roundrocktom @Horseshoez

With all this talk about loss of smell, I thought some may enjoy this smelly little thing I composed a few years ago when I thought I might become an author.

B r e a t h D e e p

She’d tell me to stick out my tongue. I hated that. I’d
clamp my eyes shut and endure as best I could, vowing
never to allow that degrading spectacle to occur again.
Out would come her hanky with the scent of face
powder, she’d swipe it across my tongue, and proceed to
wipe the whatever-it-was off my face with my own spit,
all the while declaring how embarrassing it was to take
me out in public looking like a hooligan.
To this day, when I hear the word hooligan, I think of
my mother, the smell of my spit on her hanky, and our
monthly shopping trip into Oakland. My mother would
dress up in her best clothes: high heels, hat with a veil, I
mean, she was classy. I’d wear my new brown leather
shoes, shined for the occasion, my good tweed pants,
always tweed, a dark gray, as I remember, my long
sleeve blue woolen sweater with the silver buttons,
showing the stiffly starched collar of a white shirt.
We’d climb into the old Dodge Brothers sedan, Mother
would turn the key and pump the gas, then close her eyes
for a moment of silence before pushing down on the
starter. For my part, I’d hold my breath, and with our
combined efforts, the Dodge Brothers would usually
start. It was an exciting trip, all the traffic signal lights,
the billboard with a man actually blowing smoke rings
out of his mouth, the big fancy clock on a cast iron pole
outside a jewelry store. We’d drive into a large paved
parking lot where a man in a tall tower would point to
the spot where we were to park our automobile.
We’d march quickly through the market, past the
fishmongers with sawdust on the floor, the popcorn
kiosk, taffy machine, the fresh cookie counter! The
smells would merge one with the other, then the next,
and the next, and then quite suddenly we were on the
sidewalk.
We’d cross Broadway, and walk uptown, careful to
sidestep as the Key System bus passed, choking the crisp
morning air with blue smoke. Once I picked up a shiny
Half Dollar, just lying in the gutter!
The spit on the hanky thing would happen just outside
Capwells Department Store, always our destination.
Inside, that special fragrance, something close to the
smell of my Mother’s dressing table, but more so. The
whole first floor was like that, it seemed, with
salesladies holding atomizers to spray as you walked by.
Then there was the elevator. I’d try to hold my breath
to avoid the stale cigarette smoke. After that, a drink at
the water fountain outside the elevator would be
refreshing.
I liked to plow through the racks of clothes like they
were cornfields, my arms out, guiding the way. I’d stop
short just before the aisle, as if I were invisible. Nothing
smells quite like brand new clothes still on the racks.
Mother measured new socks for me by wrapping them
around my fist. I think she just liked to do that.
Sometimes she’d have me try on new shoes, and then I
could look into the fluoroscope machine at all the bones
in my feet.
My face would remain clean till lunch, when the
corners of my mouth would sport bright yellow mustard,
my hot dog having been purchased at the lunch counter
in the market. Mother would have to buy something in
the market to get the parking ticket validated, and the
strong aroma of mustard was just not to be ignored.
My Mother would sit at the counter drinking her coffee
with cream and sugar, while I, napkin in my collar, ate
my hot dog. She’d smile as I’d dip the napkin in the
water glass to wipe the mustard off my mouth.
We’d walk back to the car, more leisurely now, and if it
had been a successful shopping trip, we’d buy a small
bag of warm oatmeal cookies to eat on the way home.
Mother would pump the gas again, and when that big old
car came alive I knew that our trip was almost over.
Upon arrival home, off came the sweater before we were
inside. It made my arms itch and it smelled funny when
it rained.
Upstairs, I’d wiggle my unpinched toes and sniff the
warm leather of my good brown shoes before they’d go
back in my closet. Out would come my Levis with the
grass stains, a fresh clean tee shirt that smelled like
sunshine, and then I’d knock the sand out of my good
old stinky Keds, the ones my mother had thrown away.
The pungent odor of those old sneakers actually could
take your breath away. It remains today as the most
powerful, if not the most curious smell of my youth.
That honor would have to go to the inside of my lunch
box.

 

Pretty good writtin' there, Alan. Brings back some memories.

 

Good morning fellow Porchatonians!!!

And some nice writing there @wanna taco Alan!!!!

 

Good Morning Porch Folks

Very enjoyable read Alan @wanna taco . Brought back memories of my youth as well. Hated the hanky wiping the face . Things always smelled different back then. Could it be the young sense of smell? But again, Thanks for the stroll down memory lane .

Have a good day folks.

 

Thanks for the trip down memory lane @wanna taco!

I think you were lucky, my mother, grandmother, and great aunt, would all moisten a paper tissue on my tongue, which always seemed to leave behind some balled up tissue artifacts, before they'd wipe my face; geez I hated that. When I was something like 12 I made a list of things I would never do to my kids, wiping their faces with a spit moistened tissue was on said list.

 

Good Morning Porch Pals & Sue! Sun is back. An actual kind of busy week upcoming.

 

Very nice prose Alan. You have talent. Growing up in Oakland your story especially brings back fond memories for me. My mother also use to take me “downtown “ to go shopping at Capwells dept. store. We’d take the bus (Key System) or her car, a Studebaker. Have lunch at Capwells lunch counter on the second floor. She’d leave me in the book department while she shopped for herself the take me to the boys department for clothes which I wasn’t that interested in. If there was a new Hardy Boys detective book out she’d buy that for me (my favorite). The elevators had elevator operators, you’d tell them what floor you wanted. I remember the perfume counter and the fragrances emanating from there. As a side note my first wife when we were married was manager of Capwells cosmetic department. I also remember the pumping the gas pedal to get the car started. I’ll stop here, I won’t further bore people with more of my personal memories. Thanks Alan for the memories.

 

Looks like I've found my audience! Kids today wouldn't know what the hell I was writing about. None of it would be familiar to modern kids. That story is all true, except that you and I know the smoking billboard sign was not really in Oakland, it was on the SF side of the Bay Bridge. Remember seeing that sign about the same time as smelling Folger's Coffee? I don't know, maybe all that was before your time too!

 

Cigs and coffee for breakfast even made it to my time Alan. I didn't want to "feed the bear", but the secret is out. Nice prose!

 

Meanwhile, today Things took over for Putz and Stuff. Things didn't get done, which is so typical.....




Might could be done tomorrow, or parts of it anyway....

 

I just did that wiring on my truck and installed a hitch. It was a little bit of of a project.

 

Thank you for sharing.

 

I've done the fun ARB hitch in the DV8 bumper. Looooooooooooooooooooooong ago, a fake factory "tow package" installed by the dealer was installed. I finally found the evidence today! Let's just say....abandoned! And replaced.

 

Mine never had a hitch, just a 2" ball on the bumper. But I know the entire history of my truck and I know it never towed much of anything. But now it'll be towing a trailer twice a week from around mid-October until about the 3rd week of March about a mile + or so each way...and eventually a camp trailer a few weeks in the summers.

 

Fourth owners don't get much say in what the dealer installed or didn't! Toyota said I got the package, life says otherwise! I've still never towed one thing! Sold the original hitch when I got the bumper. Thought I might need to tow a trailer to move my son. Didn't, but we put the hidden hitch in there. Thought I might need to tow a trailer to move him again - didn't, but no lights work. Months later, I'm sticking this in. I have no trailer, nothing to tow, but I can!

 

My uncle bought mine new in '98 well after he retired and he didn't go to town much. Before he passed in '14 he bought my aunt a new double cab but she didn't like it. Not long after she couldn't drive it (in her 90's). I got it in '16 with a touch over 40k miles on the odometer. I gave it to my son in '17 and he took great care of it. I just traded him my '15 Wrangler with 50k miles for the truck and it just turned 92k miles.

 

Great story! I'd love to see pics of that truck!
I got this one just after Hurricane Harvey decimated the available sales. I have CarFax and Toyota records, and I know it's never left Central Texas, but she still hides secrets when we do stuff. SOMEONE actually did PreRunner stuff with it. I got it about 190k, and the wife about . I said don't worry, it's been mistreated, but not abused. 218k miles now, and pampered as I can get.

 

My son just called to relay the story of his almost new refrigerator pooping out on him, and the warranty service call to fix it. Seems the fan started going click click, then bump click-click, then bump-bump-stopped. I knew what that was, but waited for his story on the fix. The tech put some code reader on it and unplugged it, then told John to leave it unplugged for a couple days and it'll be fine. Then of course, it'll freeze up again after the warranty expires.
I told him the real fix was to remove the shelves, remove the back panel, take a hunk of 10 AWG bare wire and take a couple wraps around the cal rod and poke the tails down the drain hole. 20¢ worth of scrap copper wire and the tech was too lazy to do the job.