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...I went to Penneys, which has everything in Spanish as well. All the signs. Spanish. Im surprised the marquee doesnt say Penneys / Pesos. I found nothing, and moved on. I hit Bath and Body Works, which provides the various Scent Profiles for my life, and discovered that the overpriced C. W. Bigelow line has added Bay Rum cologne and aftershave balm. I tried some. Its manly. Its damn manly. Makes Mr. Peepers feel like Hemingway, it does. Its a real alpha-male smell, but in the old-school sense. At some point the alpha-aroma became associated with musky bilge or pungent Hai-Karate type scents that indicated dominance but only because the possessor obviously had no subordinates or associations who dared point out the fact that he had overclocked his smell-chip. Even those guys, however, respect the Bay Rum. It has that classic hats n gats connotation. Its the kind of smell that says I shot a Marlin with Bogart then kissed Bacall when he wasn't looking. And she liked it.
I bought some. Then I left the mall and headed to the Element, which waited under a fog-shrouded parking lot light. Drove around on some other errand, listening to Hugh Hewitt, who seemed depressed. It was about Iran and Israel, I gathered; another day, another speech threatening to wipe Israel off the map. Its interesting: if the Holocaust conference decides that the Holocaust didnt happen, well, then the justification for Israel is specious and founded on lies, and the mullahs are justified in redressing a mistake. I have the awful feeling that terms, conditions and justifications are being set right before our eyes, and the putative leaders seem unwilling to acknowledge what most canny observers infer.
Itll all make horrible sense. In retrospect.
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