Sunday, August 22, 2010

Making Sense of Smell

Before I dive into today's subject I want to point out a small milestone in the life of the blog. This will mark my 50th posting. Now, in the world of blogs 50 postings is far from noteworthy, but it shouldn't hurt to celebrate even the little accomplishments. My friend and fellow blogger, Katy Staley, author of the always entertaining, katydidwhat, recently celebrated her 100th posting. That seems like a much more impressive number, and I commend her for being so consistent. I've always admired sticktoitiveness.


It has taken me way too long to think of a good transition into the main subject matter so I'll get right to it. I have a terrible sense of smell. To be more specific, I have a poor sense of terrible smells. And to put it yet another way, I smell good things, but have trouble smelling bad things.

If you know me well, you already know this. Let's face it, if you know me well, you already know almost everything about me. I'm a fairly open person. Not many dark secrets.

I believe that this all originates from a dare. My sister once bet me a quarter that I wouldn't smell her awful smelling feet. Of course, I took the bet. Since then it just hasn't been the same. Every time someone comments on a skunk I smell nothing. I don't think I've ever smelled skunk. I don't know what skunk smells like! The same goes for gas, body odor, and even smoke.

The odd thing is that I can smell good things without much trouble. I can smell candy and flowers and perfume and cut grass and cookies and many others. This leads me to believe that maybe this goes beyond a physical abnormality. Maybe I have a type of selective smell. Maybe it's the next step in human evolution. Probably not. It doesn't make much sense for survival to have someone who can't smell gas, smoke, or any number of deadly warning smells.

But in a world ripe with bad odors, I like to think of my little abnormality as a gift. While others are devastated by foul aromas I will be able to keep a clear head. That is, until the deadly gas goes to work on my nervous system.

3 comments:

  1. For the record, once I quit track and cross country and started wearing socks with my sneakers, my feet no longer smelled. THANKS DAVE!!

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  2. thanks for the props, Dave:) & I'm happy for your 50th post anniversary, so fun!

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  3. My theory is that Becky's feet smelled so bad your smell receptors were ireversibly damaged.
    -Chuck

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