The Mystery of the Flowery Hand and Other Adventures

flower handAbout an hour after I climbed out of bed yesterday morning I noticed my left hand smelled like flowers. And I’ve never been able to figure out why. I have a feeling someone slathered himself (more likely herself) in a lotion of some sort, and I got hit with a bit of the shrapnel.

But how? What was the source?? It was my left hand only, and I rarely lead with it. In what circumstance would only my Robin hand be infected, and my Batman hand remain unmolested? I became slightly obsessed. I walked from room to room, retracing my steps, and trying to figure out what people do with their left hands only.

And I thought I’d figured it out: flush the toilet. That had to be it! The handle is on the left, so one of them MUST be loaded up with something from Bath and Body Works, or whatever. Right? Wrong. This was a first for me, and in retrospect it was a questionable decision, but I leaned down and sniffed both our toilet handles. Nothing.

I still don’t know how this crime against humanity occurred. I asked Toney about it, and she didn’t remember using any kind of hand lotion that morning. But I think that once a person surrenders to Lotion Culture, a lot of it’s done via muscle memory. The slathering never really stops, and isn’t even noticed by the slatheree anymore. Ya know?

My goal, and it’s not too difficult to achieve, is to smell like nothing. I use no hand lotions, or Purell, or any of that boolshit. I’ve never even used Chapstick; not once in my entire life. And I’d sooner put my arm down the garbage disposal than to use a cologne. What am I, from Argentina? So, that kind of lotion shrapnel thing bugs me, it really does. But I neutralized it with Ivory soap, and all was right with the world again. Thank you guys for your concern.

fogYesterday, after dealing with my hand crisis, I drove the older boy back to college. And it was foggy, most of the way. I snapped the above photo on the way down there, and it was even worse on the way back — plus it was dark. I’m not a fan of fog. It scares me, even more than ice, for some reason. I feel claustrophobic, and not in control.

But we made it, and had a nice, normal conversation along the way. Normal being the operative word… He was acting like himself, and not some college-ized version. He’s a good kid, and hopefully he’ll have a good semester. He seemed a little anxious about it all. But that’s to be expected, I guess.

It felt weird dropping him off again, but it wasn’t nearly as traumatic as the first time. There was no 52 year old man sitting behind the wheel blubbering this time ’round. Sheesh. But we’ll miss him. Already do, in fact.

As I helped him carry all his crap up to his room, roughly a hundred people greeted him. Somebody even yelled at him from a fourth floor window. Clearly, he’s got the social part of it down. I asked him why every guy looked like the lead singer of the Spin Doctors, and he just laughed.

When we got off the elevator on his floor, it sounded like an insane asylum. People screaming and yelling… Man, they were whipped-up. Everybody was returning from their big, fat six-week break, ready to go. I have a feeling there was quite a bit of partying last night; they were all swinging for the fences. I try not to think about it…

Inside his room I noticed the framed picture of him and his ex-girlfriend, which surprised me. Why would he keep it? I picked it up, and saw that he’d drawn devil horns on her head, and a third eye. Heh. His roommate, who looks like the lead singer of the Spin Doctors, gave me the sup? chin-lift, and that was the extent of our conversation. He was hanging a Foo Fighters poster, and was fully invested in it.

I white-knuckled it home, and that kinda sorta brings you guys up to date. Sorry I’ve been absent, but things are finally settling down here. We should be back to normal soon.

Have a great day, my friends!

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  1. #prayforjeffslefthand

  2. You’re aliiivvvvvvve!!!!!

  3. Phew…. I kept seeing all this black ice shit on the news and I figured you were in the middle of this somewhere:

    • Dorothy B. Raught says

      if i had stayed at my job in philly i would have been in the center of the expressway pileup. or as we used to affectionately call it “the sure-kill expressway.”

    • I had to drive 2 hours deep into New Jersey yesterday, which is bad enough by itself, but the Commodore Barry bridge over the Delaware had a posted 15mph limit, and it *needed* it. It was like an Olympic ski jump but 10 times larger. Holy crap. We survived both NJ ($1.88 gas!!) and the ice.

  4. Je’ suis Jeff’s left hand.

  5. Makes sense. Job stuff. Possibly book stuff. Family stuff.
    Maybe your wife lotioned you in your sleep just to watch the madness.

  6. The Qweezy Mark says

    Flowery hand is a sure sign of a stroke within 48 hours.

  7. One further reason I am glad we now live in the south: 5 days of real winter weather (approximately) per year. Oh sure, we get miserable and complain-y in the summer (which lasts 6 months), but white-knuckling it around here is mostly due to the idiot drivers.

    Glad you’re back!

  8. Mike the ripper says

    Maybe your left hand is trying to make itself more attractive to you……

  9. My life is so boring, I’ve never sniffed a toilet handle.

  10. Sometimes, left hands just want to be pretty.

    Awww Jeff, there are some colognes that are just downright freaking SEXY. Beloved doesn’t wear cologne often but when he does, ooh la la. And don’t laugh – I got him the .007 James Bond cologne and that smells really nice as does the Yankees Men’s Fragrance. As logn as the wearer doesn’t marinate themselves in piss water, a little sexy cologne goes a long way.

    Glad you’re back and that you spent good times with the fam.

    I feel the same claustrophobic way about fog. Was it Poe who wrote “The fog rolls in on little cat’s feet”.

  11. johnthebasket says

    Six weeks. It’s not particularly important to me whether the next generation of Americans knows anything at all — let them have a couple of five week semesters instead of four 11-week quarters — but why the hell is college an order of magnitude more expensive than it was in the early 70s when it’s rarely attended?

    On the bright side, the older boy isn’t really away at college all that much; there’s time for a long goodbye.


  12. Stuart from Oz says

    Great to hear from you Jeff…it was worth the wait. Cheers

  13. squawvalleyskip says

    I got nothing on the flower hand. Nope. Nothing. The oldest granddaughter just drove herself back to Cal State Long Beach. It was good to see her while she was here. And that picture of “fog”. That ain’t no fog. When you can see one line, maybe a line and a half of center line and 20 feet of white fog line on the right, and oncoming headlights come into view at about 50 feet, that’s fog. And taillights of the car ahead fade out past 40 feet or so. and if you drive too slow, someone will run right over your ass. That’s the kind of fog us Central Californians get to drive in this time of year. The fog in the picture wouldn’t slow any of us down much below 75. Of course, we do have our occasional 100 car pile up on 99 or I5, but that’s just the nature of winter.

  14. bikerchick says

    Ain’t nothing like a man that smells goooood.

    Which hand whips through the ol’jiffy pop? Scented conditioner?

  15. In December the wife and I picked up our freshman daughter from college. On the way out of the dorm on the bullitin board was an envelop with what my wife thought was little packets of individual hand sanitizer. My wife was totally embarrassed when my daughter pointed out that they were free condoms. Times have changed.

  16. “…After I climbed out of bed yesterday morning I noticed my left hand smelled like flowers.” This happened to Bill Clinton quite a few times.

  17. I’m with Jeff on the no-smell thing. Because I hate reaching for something far away taking a whiff and looking around to see where the girl that just walked in is. Oh yeah, it’s just my armpit.

    But do you know how hard it is to find unscented deodorant? There’s 100 scents out there and only one company seems to make an unscented version and they always bury it on the bottom shelf stuck between “lilac elderberry” and “cool mountain stream” and I can never find it. Heh. I got your cool mountain stream right here.

  18. I hate when people ask me, “What are you doing now?”

    I don’t know. Being alive. What they hell am I supposed to say? Do want to see my activities log and inspect my daily hours? What the hell do you mean what am I doing now? I’m talking to you. I eat and sleep every day, sometimes I poop. I fell asleep with my shoes on once, is that what you want to hear. What the fuck?

    Then it’s even worse when the person doesn’t accept my answer. “Not much.” I’ll say. But then they ask, “Really though what have you been up to lately.” If I wanted you to know I’d send you the damn newsletter. I dropped piece of sausage on the floor last week and ate it anyway. Do you think I swam a lap around Key West and I’m not filling you in? I do the same shit you do every day. Now what the hell do you really want?

    • For me I find that telling the person exactly what I’m doing at the time quite funny. “oh just eating sausage off the floor” (crickets) . Friends know I’m telling the truth, they’ve been around longer, but with acquaintances I get “Really”! or “You’re what”!!? Most of the time I don’t explain myself and just ask them what they want.

    • Jazzbone Swirly says

      I just say “licking and sucking”

  19. Good stuff Icycle66. Jeff-worthy.

    If I walk by a guy in his 40’s or whatever and I smell cologne, I immediately put the guy on my “Not with the program” list.

    • johnthebasket says

      I’m whatever, and I’ve always taken a certain amount of pride in not being with the program.


  20. johnthebasket says

    Nobody else is providing box scores; the best I can do is document a future game. . .

    Patriots 3 7 3 0 = 13
    Seahawks 0 3 7 13 = 23