The Good Old Days
To spend any time these days amongst the general population is to be unwillingly exposed to their strange chemical scents. It seems that advertisers have convinced people that subjecting others to your body’s natural odor is of the highest personal offense, and are selling hair products that produce slick, shine, and scent, and body sprays designed to kill odors emanating from every dark crevice of the human anatomy.
One day, after sharing a short ride in an elevator with one such chemically swathed individual, and trying hard not to let my mind wander to exactly where those lofty chemicals escaped from just moments ago, I realized that to ride with them in an elevator is to disinfect you and the car for the next six hours, as no pathogen in its right mind would dare board a human wearing Eau de Dow Chemical.
I now fear for the safety of my chemically bathed brothers and sisters anywhere near an open flame, as it seems that soap, hot water, and a small splash of strategically placed English Leather or Jean Naté have officially become relics of the good old days of personal hygiene.
Ken Owen February 2026
Van Niddy Press
