Rating: MS
I am reminded every so often of the conversation I once had with a friend who attended St. Olaf. I pointed out how I enjoyed the smell of the Malt-O-Meal plant, and how privileged the college students were to be able to smell it often. My friend remarked that it was a nice, comforting smell on chilly winter days, but on warm humid days it was not so nice.
So the wind was blowing up from the Chinese Restaurant today, which is what reminded me of my friend’s comment. It is, according to the Weather Channel, 89 degrees with 51% humidity (making it feel like 93 degrees) and winds SSW at 19mph, gusting up to 33 mph. With the humidity and heat, the smell of the restaurant was not exactly pleasant, nor would one immediately think of moo goo gai pan or some other delectable dish upon smelling it. The smell made me think of back when I lived in the Valley (not that valley, the other valley) and the local stop-and-rob—that’s a 7-11 type quickie-mart for those who need a definition—would often smell of fried fat; usually some sort of greasy animal parts not fit for human consumption. The odor caused my mind to think of fried chicken, mojo potatoes a.k.a. potato wedges, and all sorts of other artery-clogging food. Then my mind jumped to hot, sunny, dry-as-a-bone summer days with not a cloud in the sky; the dominant color being a golden sandy brown. The sun dazzles the eyes, nothing is green except for a random palm or dark green oak, the heat swelters like a dry sauna, and one wishes for less fried chicken and more ice cream.
I am reminded every so often of the conversation I once had with a friend who attended St. Olaf. I pointed out how I enjoyed the smell of the Malt-O-Meal plant, and how privileged the college students were to be able to smell it often. My friend remarked that it was a nice, comforting smell on chilly winter days, but on warm humid days it was not so nice.
So the wind was blowing up from the Chinese Restaurant today, which is what reminded me of my friend’s comment. It is, according to the Weather Channel, 89 degrees with 51% humidity (making it feel like 93 degrees) and winds SSW at 19mph, gusting up to 33 mph. With the humidity and heat, the smell of the restaurant was not exactly pleasant, nor would one immediately think of moo goo gai pan or some other delectable dish upon smelling it. The smell made me think of back when I lived in the Valley (not that valley, the other valley) and the local stop-and-rob—that’s a 7-11 type quickie-mart for those who need a definition—would often smell of fried fat; usually some sort of greasy animal parts not fit for human consumption. The odor caused my mind to think of fried chicken, mojo potatoes a.k.a. potato wedges, and all sorts of other artery-clogging food. Then my mind jumped to hot, sunny, dry-as-a-bone summer days with not a cloud in the sky; the dominant color being a golden sandy brown. The sun dazzles the eyes, nothing is green except for a random palm or dark green oak, the heat swelters like a dry sauna, and one wishes for less fried chicken and more ice cream.
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