We all like to talk about the songs and the games and the pure exhilaration of youth. But do we like to talk about the smells? Including the really super sketchy smells that often we indulged in that our parents thought was highly questionable. I offer you a few.
I went to school in the 70s, which meant the alluring purple ink and distinct smells of mimeograph machines. One whiff? And magic. I used to spend too much time at the copier. My teachers worried about me.
But man, Xerox machines just don't have the same allure.
I also liked the smell of basements. That slight bite of mildew. The dankness. I was meant to be in a gothic novel because basements were speaking to me. We mostly had a washer and dryer in there when I was a kid and some old stuff. Also my mom's canning supplies were down there. It was unfinished. I frequently got in trouble for hanging out down in the basement too much. I was that kid.
Oh and while my brother enjoyed the smell of a good tube of glue (that he used with his model cars), I liked some nice markers. And not just those fruit markers, but any markers. Toxic. Non-Toxic. Ambient. Fat. Thin. There was nothing that capped off a morning snack of milk and celery sticks like a good whiff of the rangey fumes of a marker.
What do you guys remember!? Share in the comments below.