This is a commentary about the slow lane, about the slowing of time since I suffered a severe brain injury while skateboarding with my dog. This is a blog about recovery; about our '82 VW Westfalia. It's about writing, surfing, camping, married life, bleeding ulcers that make you feel old at 32; about family, friends, and my dog Artie; it's about cruising in fourth gear, getting passed by every car and learning to appreciate every second of it.
Yesterday, a fellow journalist, and new friend, alerted me to a local writer's blog, thedailysmell.com. The blog chronicles one lady's experience with having a strong sense of smell. From what I read, her strong sense came shortly after suffering some kind of liver ailment.
When I first learned of thedailysmell.com I thought about transforming this blog into one about losing my sense of smell. My idea, akin to hers; I would choose one thing during the day that I wanted to smell most but, of course, was unable to.
'What if we were to become archenemies in the blogosphere?' The super-sniffer and I, vying for the most hits on the olfactory front. Her kryptonite; her weak liver. Mine; my weak and damaged frontal lobes.
And so once a week I will pick the thing I wanted to smell most and write how big of bummer it is to not smell it. I will accompany it with a funny story about missing the sense of smell, just so I don't get everyone down.
The first installment of what I like to call, "Two Sense Short":
Today, it rained. I was talking to my neighbor. He told me how much he liked the rain; after all, there's not much of it in Southern California. He said he liked how it made him feel. He liked the nourishing quality of it. Most of all, he liked that "fresh air smell."
After our talk, I thought about the smell of rain, the smell of fresh air. I tried to take deep breaths through my nose and only felt air entering my nasal cavity. I remembered enjoying that smell too, it reminded me of living in Florida, when rain was an escape to the awful heat and humidity.
Moving on to the second part of "Two Sense Short":
The other night I accompanied Aimee to a work party. There was quite a bit of booze there. I had my fair share of it. Towards the end of the night, I waited in line for the pisser. A few minutes passed before the door opened and out came one of Aimee's co-workers. She is also Aimee's close friend. She looked at me while passing.
"I'm glad it was you that was next in line."
I went into the bathroom. It took me a few seconds until I let out a loud chuckle. She was glad because she knew that I had severed my olfactory nerves.