by Freida Marie Crump
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Greetings from Poosey.
I never took much interest in the pile of magazines that Mom would subscribe to each month, but when a few of the perfume and lotion manufacturers started inserting the little scratch and sniff cards I’d rush to the mailbox to start scratching and sniffing before my little brother had smeared his peanut butter hands all over the Chanel Number Five ad. Then a few years ago the scratch and sniff candy stamps for children were all the rage until some idiot started lading the stamps with substances that were illegal in most candy stores and would send little Johnny’s head into Strawberry Fields Forever.
Now the U.S. Postal Service, in another attempt to stay relevant in a digital world, will introduce a series of 10 watercolor scratch and sniff postage stamps featuring popsicles meant to give us “a sense of summer nostalgia.” The postal boys are being a bit cagey in that they’re not unveiling the names of the scents until June 20 in Austin, TX. Maybe they think that smells are more pungent in Texas, I don’t know.
In the 1960’s the 3M and NCR Corporation came up with a way to trap ink inside microscopic pockets on paper for use in carbon copies, and then they discovered that this process could also be used with scented oils that would rupture when scratched. The president of Georgio, the perfume maker, said that “now we won’t have to bring the customer to the store.” Before anyone could sneeze, the other fragrance factories followed suit and within months the arrival of Ladies Home Journal was accompanied by a blast of smells that when combined smelled like a wrecked flower truck.
The New York Times recently asked a series of questions that the postal service has yet to answer: Will applying postmarks accidentally release the smells? Will your mail end up stinking like fruit? Is it wrong to scratch and sniff them yourself before sending the letter? Are the stamps safe to eat? (That has been answered: Don’t eat your postage stamp.)
I suppose it’s an interesting enough idea, but I think the USPS is missing the boat if they’re going to make their stamps smell like popcorn, bubble gum, and strawberries. Why not do what the U.S. Mint did with quarters and make the smells specific to each state?
When you mention New York City, there’s one sensory blast that comes to mind… diesel fumes. The towering canyons of the Big Apple trap every whiff of exhaust belching from the bowels of delivery trucks, taxis, and busses. How about a postage stamp celebrating the smells of New York? Diesel fumes with such a whiff of hotdog stand? Scratch, sniff, and you’re in Times Square.
Why not a whiff of barbecue sauce for the Texas stamp? Just don’t sell the stamp in Kansas City. A strong whiff of espresso coffee would easily identify any letters from your aunt in Washington State, perhaps a hint of gumbo might indicate that your cousin from Louisiana was sending you a birthday card, and odor of mesquite would clearly let you know that your brother in New Mexico was needing a loan.
Finally, we come to odiferous matter of the Midwestern states, the Illinois-Missouri-Indiana conglomerate that most easterners think of as one big blob of corn as they fly over on their way to California. The problem is although there’s not a lot of variety in geography here in the corn-Belt, the diversity of smells is almost unlimited. The postal service might opt for the sweet smell of a lemon shakeup with county and state fairs commanding the landscape for a third of the year, or perhaps a corndog with mustard might be just the right scratch and sniff smell to define those of us in the belly of the nation.
I asked the question to my group of gray heads around the local café’s morning coffee table. What smells do you associate with the Midwest? These ladies aren’t crude by any means but the overwhelming choice of scent to represent us folks in the mid-nation was the odor of manure. Distasteful as it sounds, it would at least keep people from opening our mail.
I’m not convinced that this smell-a-stamp idea is going to be such a big hit. Do I really want to smell my postman coming?
You ever ’round Poosey, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.