I will not accept the authenticity of "Ravishing Raspberry" or "Merry Melon" -- unless I see a trail of ants!

Contributed By:The 411 News

There are so, so many concoctions to make people look and smell good today.

Growing up as I did, where “heavenly” described the smell of honeysuckle, a smell that just took people to another world, I never thought much about sweet – with a price tag. It was so sweet that as a child I’d risk the stings of stingy bees who begrudged anybody who came close enough to get a whiff.

It was so heavenly that I’d risk the pain just to break off a bunch and hightail it home where I could poke it down in a “make-do” vase, a Mason jar, or some other container; and there it would sit, scenting the whole territory, until it died and dried.

Guess I’d really be dating myself if I said there were probably less than fifty offerings of “body stuff” in Ben Franklin’s on Front Street, just south of the Piggly Wiggly grocery store when I grew up, and that’s including whatever was used or needed for the top down to the bottom, excluding clothing!

We had deodorant, Mum. The name meant nobody was supposed to smell your underarms. That moved up to “antiperspirant.” Then came the big discovery: People were supposed to sweat. It was in God’s plan, maybe in some lost papers, or in a later, more comprehensible, reader-friendly version without the red letters in “Jesus’s own words” – notwithstanding that English didn’t even exist until centuries after the death of Christ back then – surely a sin to read.

As far as I can remember, few folks were funky, and offenders could be fingered fast! There was a code of cleanliness most folks followed: Saturday night in the #3 tub, and weekday mornings, the foot tub. In case you don’t know, a #3 tub was a round, galvanized container, 17gal. capacity, with two handles on the side. Weekdays meant “wash up,” a sponge-off (w/o sponge) in a smaller “foot tub,” with a handle. We used plain soap and water, and smelled “clean.”

Things are different today. Simple is gone. Bathrooms overflow with concoctions that seem right out of a chemistry student’s notes – tetrasodiumedta, cycloplentasioxane, diheptancate, hyaluronic acid, and gobs of other “scarifyingly,” unrecognizable names I wouldn’t trust on my walkway.

Yet those, and a hundred more weird names, find themselves sharing space in the bathroom with an assortment of oils and spices heretofore reserved for the kitchen.

Body wash I won’t waste money on! I think it’s a lot less expensive – and more logical – to add a smell after bathing. I refuse to be duped into believing they’re peddling honeysuckle: “Money-sucker” is more accurate for it, as far as I’m concerned, for no matter the combination on the label, I will not accept the authenticity of “Ravishing Raspberry” or “Merry Melon” – unless I see a trail of ants!

Then there’s what I shall call the “lotion notion,” with emphasis on no. It seems so illogical to “lotion while you shower.” I can’t say it doesn’t work, but no way am I going to put lotion on and wash it off at the same time, just because a little spot about the size of a saucer is virtually unreachable! A damp sponge or washcloth is a lot cheaper, and can do that little spot!

Call me cheap, or chintzy, but I prefer looking at things with my head. After all, that’s where both my eyes and my mind are housed!

Story Posted:05/20/2017