I was at the nail salon yesterday evening, zoning in and out of the giggly chatter of the women behind the counter and trying to read the closed captioned news report about a bomb on a bridge in Atlanta.
They are always playing these awesome 1980’s ballads, which I have to admit I love listening to in small doses, like when I’m getting my nails done.
Being ever present in my body, I felt the achy swell of teenage nostalgia rise up from deep inside me. The sting of a tear surfaced as Journey’s Faithfully and Fast Car from Tracy Chapman played back to back over the speakers. Holy F*! Where did that come from? I say that as I am writing, but the truth is I just settled into the memory quietly and rode the wave.
Songs have that way with me and smells do too. They can emote all kinds of feelings of; safety, love, repulsion, nostalgia, longing, regret, giddiness, and joy.
Here’s what I nestled into: the smell of gaffers tape and solder; Tom Sayer playing loudly in a dark theater; orange tic-tacs and Big Red gum; the freezing cold of Russia and the smell of wet exhaust; Callery Pears (cum trees) blooming in the Spring; standing at the bus stop cool as hell, smoking my Camel Lights; him.
It doesn’t happen often but there we are.
I got in the car and promptly assembled my 1980’s Journey, Chicago, Foreigner, RUSH playlist on Spotify.
My nails look great by the way.
Five of my favorite things: 1: beautiful aesthetic – think Italian linen, French laundry tables, three dozen sunset shades of peonies. . . / 2: the smell of my children’s heads / 3: gastronomy – the art of badass food / 4: earl grey tea with milk and honey / 5 : the Mediterranean Sea