My Planet: Finding Humor in the Oddest Places

Makes Scents

We just moved into a new house, and it has smell ghosts: pockets of mystery odors that the previous owner left behind, along with wiper fluid and a bag of frankfurters which, like cats, are busily marking their territory in the refrigerator. Soon our own odors will set up camp and conquer the smell world of the previous owner, but in the meantime, I thought we could use some professional help.

“People today are more actively involved in their ‘smell’ world.” These are the words of a “scent expert” from Brown University. The expert’s words are being used to help promote an electronic gizmo that plays the latest CDs—not music, or books on tape. Just odors. It’s the new Scentstories fragrance disc player, whose inventors seem not very actively involved in their capitalization and spacing world.

The marketing material said that the twenty-five Scentstories on the five discs were chosen by a leading fragrance-design firm, from “a pool of more than 1,000 creative scent possibilities.” Here was a pool I plan to stay out of, at least without my wet suit.

The idea behind a “multiple scent experience”—instead of a solitary scent experience, as most room fresheners and perfumes and aging hot dogs provide—is that this way the nose can’t adapt to the scent and stop smelling it. The discs advance to a new scent every half hour, to keep the nose on its toes.

As with CDs, both the scent discs and the individual scent selections have names—in this case, names like “Following the Winding Creek,” and “Shades of Vanilla.” Unlike CDs, there is no performer, though I suspect Yanni might somehow be involved. I chose the disc entitled “Wandering Barefoot on the Shore.” The scents were pleasant, but I did not recognize them as ocean- or foot-related. Barring oil spills or salt or dying marine life, I would be hard-pressed to describe a shore scent.

I switched discs and fast-forwarded to the second cut: “Picking Peachy Freesias.” I asked Ed to tell me what the air smelled like. He answered that it smelled like the bathrooms at the car wash after they’ve been cleaned.

Interestingly, Ed considered this a positive comment. Ed enjoys the scent story of the car wash bathrooms. I can’t say for sure, but I feel it is unlikely Ed will one day be employed by a leading fragrance-design firm.

Ed wanted to know what would happen if we put a regular CD into the disc player. He used the example of “Graceland.” Would the room smell like Paul Simon? Elvis’s bedroom? The instruction-pamphlet writers at Scentstories are prepared for people like Ed. Under the WARNINGS section, it actually says: “Only use Scentstories discs in Scentstories player.”

The pamphlet writers take a dim view of the American intellect. Users are advised: “Do not drop player. Do not use player upside down.” It was as though the device was being marketed to chimps. But only free-range chimps, for the next paragraph said: “Do not use in small confined pet areas without adequate ventilation.”

Later in the week, I opened up the box and was met by an alarming and overwhelming smell. I had stored all five scent discs together in the box, with the result that many of the Scentstories had wafted out and blended together. So now the room smelled like Gazing at the Tall Firs Exploring the Mountains Vanilla Nut Cake Comforted with Lavender Vanilla Taffy Relaxing in a Hammock Walking Beside Wildflowers. Ed stopped in on his way to feed the chimps. He sniffed. “Bubblegum paint. I like it.”