I knew this could happen - I just hoped it never would.
I'm now on the far side of "I remember when," goaded into place by the makers of my favorite deodorant.
If you think this is too personal to talk about, I'm sorry, but I'm totally flumexed here. I remember grandpa Gus talking about stuff from his past and wondered how anybody could be so old to remember that. I remember Dad talking about stuff he did and wondered what it would have been like, wishing I could go back to find out.
Now I'm the one remembering something that is no longer, and it makes me part of the old, storytelling generation, a place foreign to me just three days ago before I went shopping.
Who, I wonder, makes the decision to stop a product line in favor of others? Nobody asked me. Nobody must care that I HATE deodorant that smells. Any smell, even if they call it scent. Skunks have a scent - you can't pawn that word off on me as the latest in refreshing cleanliness.
And I want my roll-on back. I don't like sticks or gels any more than I like scents.
It took years just getting used to the "powder fresh" smell, and even that is gone. Now they've got fruit scent coming out their ears. I don't want to smell like an apricot or a watermelon. I didn't even want to smell like powder, though I gave in to that when necessity made me.
A few days ago, an e-mail came to my work computer pushing a tent revival somewhere in Alabama. Wrong Messenger paper, she said, when I wrote back to ask. We cyber-chatted a little, and long story almost short, in her last message she sent her favorite Mark Twain quote: "Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it."
If my deodorant came in a violet scent, I'd have to forgive them for shunning my deodorant predilection. Maybe it does come in violet - heaven knows there's just about every other kind of smell to use.
The Twain quote, she said, came from a Web site of daily inspirations. On the day she sent the message, the quote for the day was: "Problems do not go away. They must be worked through or else they remain, forever a barrier to the growth and development of the spirit." -M. Scott Peck.
OK, I can learn. I can take direction. My deodorant problem is not going to go away. It's something that must be worked through. So, from now on, I'll step out of the shower, dry off, use the smelly deodorant, then go running - or a fast wobble - through the house, flapping my arms until all scent has dissipated. Only then will I dress.
And there will be no truth to the rumor that on those days my husband will be sitting on the chair on our front porch, preferring chilly morning weather to the sight inside.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Contact Sandy Mickelson at (515) 573-2141 or firstname.lastname@example.org.