Random Pensées

Proust never contemplated this, did he?

I know I've written about the power of smells before. Smells/odors have the power to transport you temporally. I had that experience a couple of nights ago on the train. It had been a very hard couple of days at work and I had spent that particular day in front of a very demanding judge so, by the time I hit the train, I was more than ready for my nap. In fact, I was out before the train left the station. When I awoke, and I did so sort of gradually and grudgingly, it was to a smell. It was a kind of clean, at first, odor. And then, as I become more conscious, I was struck by memories of 9th and 10th grade study hall, sitting in the back left corner of the room that we dubbed the swamp. I vividly recalled the space, the arrangement of the desks, the appearance of my friends, and the smell of the Kodiak dip we regularly (me, not so regularly) put in our mouths and spit on to the carpet behind the radiator. And that's when it hit me, the nicely dressed, gray haired fellow with the respectable spectacles sitting next to me was spitting dip or chewing tobacco into an empty bottle.

Uh, yuck?

While I appreciated the nostalgia trip, I was actually mildly grossed out.

Just the same, we had a short but very pleasant conversation and he told me that a lot of the people he worked with, bond traders, used it. A lot of them are ex-baseball players and picked up the habit there. Also, as a trader, its hard to step away from your desk for long enough to have a smoke. Hence, the smokeless stuff.

Funny experience, though. Even if it was a little icky.