You may be what you smell

Modern science has written the sensory perceptions of humanity as being wrapped up in the five basic senses, or at least five senses in most people. I have known some people who have somehow evolved into creatures of even more perceptions, whether it be ESP, UFO sightings, or just being lucky at winning things like a lottery. Sandy Kay for instance has a 6th sense of when I might not be telling the truth, something like a lie-detector. Or she can immediately sense when I am about to question someone at a party about embarrassing details of a personal nature, and she will take me home, often without any warning. I guess however, after comparing notes with other male colleagues that most woman have developed this 6th sense to a perfection. This revelation brought to mind how many other differences have taken place between men and women regarding the senses. One of the few senses that I have retained is the sense of smell. Sandy has an acute sense of smell as well ,yet her recognition of odors is not as readily available as mine. She can smell dirty socks from out in her car as it pulls in the driveway, but she doesn't recognize the smell of burning brake pads, or the acrid odor of a bad catalytic converter of the old Pacer in front of us at the light. She thinks that the catalytic converter odor is someone passing gas. Women have developed this unhealthy fascination with candles, and it seems the more I question this- the more candles we have. We not only have candles , but we have little hot-plate looking things that melt the wax without flames. What for? The good smell of course. I have eavsdropped on women and heard them talk for hours about candles. Good Lord this is the age of Halogen lighting--what's with the candles? A few weeks back I walked into a bank and noticed a funny smell and I asked the teller what it was. She pointed to a burning candle and said"Sex on the beach,Baby". It suddenly dawned on me that that was the name of the candle giving off this vaguely coconut smell. Now I wasn't in a position to debate the merits of the description ,but it was not like sex on Boonesboro Beach 35 years ago, and certainly didn't stimulate some of the other senses that had been involved, but that will remain an unknown blog. I must admit that Sandy has no patience with her candles and throws them away with regularity; maybe they don't live up to her expectations,but I have been taking them out to the whirlpool spa and floating them around in the soothing waters as I bask in the warmth on cold winter nights. I can testify that they will float placidly around with a soft glow so long as I don't turn the jets or bubbles on. It took a lot of effort to clean up the water when I sank a whle fleet one night just to see what would happen. A final note to candles is that the girls should start marketing candles for men . Think about the rush to buy them if they could market candles that smelled like gunpowder or a wet birddog on the ride home from the hunt. Some guys would pay a lot of money for the smell of Harley Davidson exhaust mixed with Coors Lite and Baby powder. And what man wouldn't want a combination of Baseball Opening Day hotdogs mixed with Drunken pizza eaters? I personally can remember the smells of Homecoming 1970 as my friend's date ate all of her huge yellow pompom mum that was pinned on her left chest, somehow leaning down and gracefully nibbling until nothing remained but a green stem . The candle associated with that episode would be called Bicardi and Coke. I recently had an olfactory experience when an associate that I'll call the Soap Babe gave me some soap that her company manufactures. Now I'll admit that I was perplexed when she asked what fragrance I wanted to try. I asked for choices and finally settled on Peppermint and one called Patchouli (I think). Quite to my dismay I really liked the peppermint, but made the mistake of telling her in front of Maynard, my overly sensitive and ever- politically sensitive boss, who immediately questioned my masculinity because of my liking that scent. Now Maynard somehow sees himself as a deadly combination of Charles Bronson and The Rock, and so long as he continues placing his masculine signature on my paycheck he can fantasize about his image all he likes. I , on the other hand would like the Soap Babe to develop a peppermint smelling bar that floats like the old Ivory. Just think, I can bask in the hottub with Sandy's cast off candles and sweet smelling peppermint soap that I can always find. Now won't that be sensory overload!!