Nose to Nose
‘Tis the season of aromas, odors, and smells — turkey roasting, snow falling, challah baking, a fire burning, hot cocoa, backed up septic systems, cinnamon sticks, Christmas trees, forgotten gravy at the back of the fridge, scented candles, the old furnace kicking in — smells about which we all have strong opinions. And those opinions, many experts believe, vary according to our associations with each whiff… but I’m not so sure I agree.
I recently became interested in olfactics (the study of smells) when our dog was repeatedly sprayed by Pepé Le Pew a couple of months ago. Convinced the skunk was a chew toy, Obi refused to let it go. That’s another stinky story, but what I found most interesting about that pungent event was our friends’ different reactions to the lingering stench permeating our skin, clothes, hair, and every corner of our house for two weeks.
To my surprise, more than a couple people insisted, “Doesn’t bother me – I like the smell of skunks!” One person even admitted he loves the stuff. When asked for more info, none of them could recall a “positive” or out-of-the ordinary experience with a member of the Mephitidae family. So where was the association?
I had never heard of anyone actually enjoying eau de skunk, but I have known people who love the smell of a mildewed basement (ick) or even moth balls (double ick) — while others are inexplicably repulsed by the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee or the smoky scent of bacon!
So it got me wondering about my own peculiar olefactory likes and dislikes:
~I particularly love the smell of gasoline, popcorn, lilacs, and magic markers…
~However, the smell of wintergreen, Lysol, black tea, and licorice all make me gag.
~But I’m not bothered by the smell of tar, boiled cabbage, cigarettes, or a ‘naturally’ fertilized farm.
So why is that true for me, but not for you?
And while we’re on the topic, how can we be attracted (instantly) to a person based on our olfactory perception of the way they waft, despite the fact that (more often than not) we know that same person would make a terrible partner?
According to the experts, we begin to develop our sense of smell – our preferences and dislikes – in the womb as a result of what mom consumes. However, those same experts can’t agree on exactly what happens after we’re born… or the degree to which nurture vs nature shapes our individual sense of smell. We know scents can influence weight loss and gain, illnesses, arousal, learning – practically every human experience – but how does that happen and, again, why does it happen?
I don’t know if we’ll ever discover the secret formula, or if a formula even exists — but like so many other mysteries in life, I think this one is better left to the philosophers and poets…
I recently became interested in olfactics (the study of smells) when our dog was repeatedly sprayed by Pepé Le Pew a couple of months ago. Convinced the skunk was a chew toy, Obi refused to let it go. That’s another stinky story, but what I found most interesting about that pungent event was our friends’ different reactions to the lingering stench permeating our skin, clothes, hair, and every corner of our house for two weeks.
To my surprise, more than a couple people insisted, “Doesn’t bother me – I like the smell of skunks!” One person even admitted he loves the stuff. When asked for more info, none of them could recall a “positive” or out-of-the ordinary experience with a member of the Mephitidae family. So where was the association?
I had never heard of anyone actually enjoying eau de skunk, but I have known people who love the smell of a mildewed basement (ick) or even moth balls (double ick) — while others are inexplicably repulsed by the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee or the smoky scent of bacon!
So it got me wondering about my own peculiar olefactory likes and dislikes:
~I particularly love the smell of gasoline, popcorn, lilacs, and magic markers…
~However, the smell of wintergreen, Lysol, black tea, and licorice all make me gag.
~But I’m not bothered by the smell of tar, boiled cabbage, cigarettes, or a ‘naturally’ fertilized farm.
So why is that true for me, but not for you?
And while we’re on the topic, how can we be attracted (instantly) to a person based on our olfactory perception of the way they waft, despite the fact that (more often than not) we know that same person would make a terrible partner?
According to the experts, we begin to develop our sense of smell – our preferences and dislikes – in the womb as a result of what mom consumes. However, those same experts can’t agree on exactly what happens after we’re born… or the degree to which nurture vs nature shapes our individual sense of smell. We know scents can influence weight loss and gain, illnesses, arousal, learning – practically every human experience – but how does that happen and, again, why does it happen?
I don’t know if we’ll ever discover the secret formula, or if a formula even exists — but like so many other mysteries in life, I think this one is better left to the philosophers and poets…
Photo Source: Google Images
Published on December 03, 2015 06:36
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