From 11/10/2003
Nostalgia… the reverie of something poignant in the past. It also brings forth the notion that scent plays a role in it, with the Nos prefix to the word itself.
In my wandering tonight I decided to go out after I got all my little tasks done and over with and went to Best Buy. I noticed several wonderful and frightfully affordable toys lined on shelves bleating out ‘Buy me! Buy me!’ however I luckily survived and resisted the urge to break out my Best Buy card and spend like the dickens… While browsing I decided to pick up a new spindle of CD-R’s for work using the purchasing card so it was a chance to window shop and take care of a little business all in one giant go. After Yub tseB was over with I next had my eye on some more laundry detergent and across the road was a Target… got that done and over with and I went searching for lubricant for my car’s passenger side front door assembly because it squeaks and wonks. Standing in Target I searched for about 10 minutes until I finally found a canister of WD-40, for which I didn’t buy. I left with my laundry soap and while driving down Westnedge Avenue it occurred to me that I could probably find what I was looking for at Meijers. Stop there, wander the automotive section for a while and behold… the same canister size of WD-40 laying on the shelf… I don’t know if it was my irritation at the plastic’ness of Target or just a brain fart, but I completely forgot that WD-40 is a lubricant and is exactly what I was looking for. After getting it at Meijers I promptly headed home only to find myself driving right behind Scott coming home from his book readers club at B&N. Followed him home, parked the car, and got ready to take care of the laundry. Stocked the car, headed back into the house to fetch a flashlight and with the canister of WD-40 in tow I set out to resolve the squeak/wonk sound.
That’s where Nostalgia comes in…
As I started to spray the WD-40 all over the hinge assembly and move the door back and forth I got a whiff of the scent inherent in WD-40. I found myself a party to a very vivid memory which defines a good portion of the male influence in my life. The first image I remember is my maternal grandfathers workbench – he repaired typewriters and WD-40 was the cure-all for damn near everything that could ail an old purely mechanical typewriter back in the 80’s. I remembered bits and pieces of him, nothing intense, but startling in that I wasn’t expecting such a profound memory to pop out and say “hiya!”. The other memory was helping my father work on an old electro-mechanical cash register back in his old office in Syracuse. It had this huge hood assembly that you’d put the part in and it had these big metal rods with little triggers on them and you could pressure-wash with WD-40 until the part worked or drowned in lubrication. For both of these memories the abject shock of recognition and the speed at which my mind churned up these particular childhood memories left me in a lurch for a while – savoring the light scent of WD-40 and appreciating just how strong Nostalgia can grip you when you least expect it.