I've only recently deduced what "Old Man" smell truly is. After much consideration and analysis, I can only conclude that the aroma we have come to refer to as "Old Man" is a result of men who clean their bodies yet wear dirty clothes and then add talcum powder. I think that is as close of a definition as we can get to this. Why am I sharing this with you? I'm not sure, but I made the discovery on one of my many trips to the the local Macomb-Oakland County thrift stores looking for cheap suit coats. I've bought plenty of clothes at the thrift store, in fact, some really nice clothes (in which you've given me compliments about, yes, you certainly did!) but I've never found a suit hanging on the rack at Value World or the Salvation Army that wasn't....well...crusty. I guess that is the best adjective to use here, but it seems rather vulgar. There really is no getting around it though, thrift store suits are crusty. I have never held myself to be a fancy person but I draw the line at crusty apparel. Say the word over and over, crusty, crusty, crusty, crusty. I really want you to get the picture of how awful these suits are, in their circa 1970s colors of key party burgundy, alcoholic parents olive, & hippie public television royal blue. They seem like you could crack them in half on a rather cold day. I always remark at how filthy dirty these suits are, and that someone wore them at some point. One time, I tried one on, which fit pretty good (because I am the height of the 97 year completely shrunken man), and stuck my hand in my pocket only to find a wadded up disgusting crusty Kleenex. If I bestow any advice on you that you retain throughout reading this entire blog, don't stick your hands in the pockets of second hand clothes, you may end up with a wad of crusty Kleenex.
At some point men just stop caring. Some would say they never cared at all, but I feel there's at least some period in each man's life where he actually...I don't know...maybe gives a fuck about himself...and while it may be brief for some, I think all of us get at least a flash of it...at least a flash. But I don't doubt there's an age that comes where stuff stops mattering, and things get dirty, and smelly, and crusty, and musty, and dusty. Growing up, I was told the benefits of old age were wisdom, experience, respect, dignity, honor, and so forth. Never was I told that the joy of old age was the apathy of hygiene, but I guess they just wanna keep it a secret for themselves. Many of you already know I look forward to being an old man (especially those of you who have been reading these for some time) and the crusty men's suits reaffirm my belief that "Old people don't have to take shit off anyone and can pretty much do whatever they please as long as it doesn't endanger them to breaking a bone" and I can't wait for that. Regardless of your perks and privileges as an elderly member of society, you should not be allowed to donate your dirty clothes. That's just kinda gross.
But I shouldn't be picking on the old people exclusively. Because I know a lot of unhygienic, stinky, dirty, people in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, & 60s (remember, I worked at ACO for two years). Dirty people walk the Earth and they are everywhere. Waiting around corners to talk close to your face with hot garlic talk (you know what I'm talking about), put an arm around your shoulder to reveal they don't believe in anti-antiperspirant, fart in a crowded line at the grocery store, wear that damn grime soaked white T-shirt yet again (and all you can think about is why don't they buy black shirts if they're not going to wash them?). I don't wanna be writing this from a soapbox though (no pun intended) as I am plenty dirty myself. I've gone ahead and worn socks three days in a row, done the smell test on a shirt, ran to the post office with greasy hair and even mustered a weekend sans toothbrush, but I could never fathom the logic that goes through some people's heads when they leave the house with a rank ripeness that tinges the senses, bordering on deep fried skunk.I am very self-aware of my scent and when I smell bad, I can smell it.
Where was I going with this? I can't remember. Take a bath, people.
