Ben Knebel
06-30-2003, 9:44 AM
Smells they say are the most evocative memory triggers there are. If anything can plunge you into a nostalgic reverie it will be a smell.
I don't know whether it's because I'm getting older or my father is but it's been happening a lot lately and the memories are all related to him---mostly.
Just the other day I was smelling myself--as I'm wont to do as I wish to avoid knocking people out--and a memory of my father came wafting back.
...I'm about 4 years old and my father has just picked me up from the nursery school---I'd fallen asleep so he's carrying me and I smell what came to be,for me, "that man smell"---a combination of the metallic, oily, sweaty smell that comes from working with metals and machines all day---an honest smell not at all unpleasant.
Why did catching a wiff of myself bring back that memory??---it was the same smell. You see I now work with metals and the making of tools---as did my father. He was a master tool and die maker of the old school.
For years I was a white collar worker , growing up in the computer industry and working for large computer corporations---corporations do leave a smell on you but not one that is all that pleasant....at least not these days.
I make handplanes and other tools but mostly handplanes and so "that man smell" is something I smell pretty well every day now.
It's funny but I know that my dad's memoriestrigger on that smell as well. My parents were visiting and I was just returning from the shop and had to pass very close to my father. He grabbed me by the shoulders and took a deep breath through his nose---eyes closed he just smiled--he looked at me and continued smiling---that was all. We didn't say anything but it was one of those I know that you know that I know moments. I smiled right back at him.
As I work with wood as well that smell brings back it's own set of memories--you know that smell---fresh cut wood combined with sweat--and in my case the smells of the forest---another "man smell".
I was cutting up a maple tree that had taken a lightening strike and boom --the memory transpoter takes me back---to a farm.
My father and I ( I'm about 11) are clearing a 14 acre plot of land that he had bought as an investment. My father wanted to grow veggies on that farm. It had about 1 clear acre--the rest was forest and that first summer we turned that acre over and planted potatoes---we turned it over by hand---my dad had a shovel and so did I and I hated every minute of it---see nostalgia doesn't always have to be pleaant.
The next year he wanted more clear acerage so we started to cut down the forest---we cleared about 2 acres-by hand axe and 2 man saw--I hated that too.
But there are other memories as well----there was a large lake nearby and every once in awhile --after a hard hot sweaty day--we'd drive to the beach for a sunset swim--glorious--the best swims ever. he sun's just setting--a big red ball on the horizon----I'm in the water and look back on the shore---my dad my mum and my brother--happy,relaxed and that lovely summer beach smell. See always smells.
There was a creek that ran along the front of that property and on one of those rare occasions where I was simply allowed to play I met my first love.
I was 11 --she was 10 and a farmer's daughter from the farm across the way...yea yea I know all the jokes. I was catching frogs and heard this tentative hello. Looking up I see a girl--dark hair and the deepest bluest eyes I had ever and have ever seen--instant love.
Pause for a deep intake of breath--let it out slowly and revellin that memory.
You know the saying " Stop and smell the roses".
Must have been a very wise person who said that.
Stop , smell and remember.
Regards
Ben
I don't know whether it's because I'm getting older or my father is but it's been happening a lot lately and the memories are all related to him---mostly.
Just the other day I was smelling myself--as I'm wont to do as I wish to avoid knocking people out--and a memory of my father came wafting back.
...I'm about 4 years old and my father has just picked me up from the nursery school---I'd fallen asleep so he's carrying me and I smell what came to be,for me, "that man smell"---a combination of the metallic, oily, sweaty smell that comes from working with metals and machines all day---an honest smell not at all unpleasant.
Why did catching a wiff of myself bring back that memory??---it was the same smell. You see I now work with metals and the making of tools---as did my father. He was a master tool and die maker of the old school.
For years I was a white collar worker , growing up in the computer industry and working for large computer corporations---corporations do leave a smell on you but not one that is all that pleasant....at least not these days.
I make handplanes and other tools but mostly handplanes and so "that man smell" is something I smell pretty well every day now.
It's funny but I know that my dad's memoriestrigger on that smell as well. My parents were visiting and I was just returning from the shop and had to pass very close to my father. He grabbed me by the shoulders and took a deep breath through his nose---eyes closed he just smiled--he looked at me and continued smiling---that was all. We didn't say anything but it was one of those I know that you know that I know moments. I smiled right back at him.
As I work with wood as well that smell brings back it's own set of memories--you know that smell---fresh cut wood combined with sweat--and in my case the smells of the forest---another "man smell".
I was cutting up a maple tree that had taken a lightening strike and boom --the memory transpoter takes me back---to a farm.
My father and I ( I'm about 11) are clearing a 14 acre plot of land that he had bought as an investment. My father wanted to grow veggies on that farm. It had about 1 clear acre--the rest was forest and that first summer we turned that acre over and planted potatoes---we turned it over by hand---my dad had a shovel and so did I and I hated every minute of it---see nostalgia doesn't always have to be pleaant.
The next year he wanted more clear acerage so we started to cut down the forest---we cleared about 2 acres-by hand axe and 2 man saw--I hated that too.
But there are other memories as well----there was a large lake nearby and every once in awhile --after a hard hot sweaty day--we'd drive to the beach for a sunset swim--glorious--the best swims ever. he sun's just setting--a big red ball on the horizon----I'm in the water and look back on the shore---my dad my mum and my brother--happy,relaxed and that lovely summer beach smell. See always smells.
There was a creek that ran along the front of that property and on one of those rare occasions where I was simply allowed to play I met my first love.
I was 11 --she was 10 and a farmer's daughter from the farm across the way...yea yea I know all the jokes. I was catching frogs and heard this tentative hello. Looking up I see a girl--dark hair and the deepest bluest eyes I had ever and have ever seen--instant love.
Pause for a deep intake of breath--let it out slowly and revellin that memory.
You know the saying " Stop and smell the roses".
Must have been a very wise person who said that.
Stop , smell and remember.
Regards
Ben