“Do you have a memory that’s linked to a smell” is the Bloganuary topic of the day? Of course, I do and the first that popped into my head was the smell of a newspaper (Newsprint and Ink). It’s been a large portion of my life. It’s a smell my children and their children will be lost in their generations.
From the first day almost 5 decades ago, I walked into the building it was present and enveloped me. It permeates plants with presses. I don’t know what it is, but the printing of a newspaper is something I’m going to miss someday. In my younger days, we were recruited out of the engraving area to help unload trucks of newsprint, the main ingredient in this process.
But running it through that press, adding ink, and cutting the paper as it comes through the folder. There, is the smell I’m talking about. It’s carried to doorsteps around the world each day. It’s what you hold in your hands with your arms outstretched. The smell is there as you read. It’s there when you crumple a few pieces up to get a fire started, or put them in the recycle bin. Or if you’re from Maryland, to put it in the trash can after you have feasted on a few dozen crabs on top of them.
Another smell that triggers a memory is Thrasher’s French Fries on the boardwalk in Ocean City Maryland. On my first visit to OC, I remember hitting the inlet parking lot and the smell of those fries and vinegar and salt floated on the breeze from the waves to my nose. And anything that had a constant line of 10-100 people at a time must be good. So it’s become a tradition each year, I don’t get the big bucket anymore but I still have to satisfy that urge the smell triggers.
There is one more smell that triggered a memory this past year again. The smell of my son’s newborn son. It took me back to when he and his sister were born.
I saw a story on CBS Sunday morning on AI (artificial intelligence) to create art. It will never be as original as the human mind. Nor will the person who typed words to let the computer make something know the enjoyment of creating something themselves as an artist. That isn’t being arrogant, it’s just a fact. The imperfections in each of us make each piece unique.
Random Thoughts of the Day
- I’m looking forward to the day when I get up and question what day it is like people who are no longer working do.
- Football is winding down. No teams left to support. Bring on March Madness.
- I wish I had more energy. Night shifts seem to exact a higher toll on the mind and body.
- I haven’t shot a frame yet today but there is still time to trip that shutter.