The smell of anticipation

September 17, 2008

When I think of all of the issues of the NewYorker that went unread in my (subscription) lifetime it makes me want to cry. I absolutely LOVE reading NewYorker at the gym. No, not when i’m power lifting 160lbs over my head (wait, is 160lbs too light?), but on the elliptical (how many of you are tired of hearing me say this?).

In NYC I read them on the subway, and that helped to lower the stack that went unread, but since living in San Diego (and, of course, not having a subway to read on) I just haven’t been keeping up with them. That is until a few months ago when Ted and I joined (or re-joined, I should say) the gym.

Now I can read at least one whole issue a week! Which means I have a lot of catching up to do.

So, today I read two articles from May 2008; one by Dana Goodyear about the filming of the upcoming movie “The Soloist,” which chronicles homeless people in Los Angeles and is starring Robert Downey Jr. and Jamie Foxx. The other was David Sedaris’ essay “Letting Go” about smoking.

I loved this passage:

It wasn’t the smoke but the smell of it that bothered me. In later years, I didn’t care so much, but at the time I found it depressing: the scent of neglect. It wasn’t so noticeable in the rest of the house, but then again the rest of the house was neglected. My room was clean and orderly, and if I’d had my way it would have smelled like an album jacket the moment you remove the plastic. That is to say, it would have smelled like anticipation.

What a great line: My room was clean and orderly, and if i’d had my way it would have smelled like an album jacket the moment you remove the plastic.

I sometimes find his essays hit or miss, and i’m just now reading the new book, but you cannot deny he finds the most unique, interesting ways to describe things.

(Image from NewYorker.com)