They (the all-knowing “they”) posit that olfactory senses are the most powerful in memory evocation.  I have no basis from which to disagree; but – as with the strength of anything, whether tangible or tactile – when intertwined with another (in this case, another sense or senses), that factor of strength is drastically increased.  What the hell am I talking about?  Simply, that I find the strongest resurgence of memories occur when there’s a confluence of senses.

For instance, while the sound of a ukulele might perhaps for most, bring to the fore images of flower leis hula girls; for me, it’s sitting in the living room of my friend Sean Marks’ townhouse in Beverly Hills, with his then-girlfriend (now his wife and mother of their gorgeous children), Dina Styne, listening to a mix CD that his friend and client, James Perse had put-together for the opening of his eponymous LA boutique.  On it was the achingly beautiful cover of Judy Garland’s “Over the Rainbow” sung by Platinum-selling Hawaiian artist, Israel “Bruddah IZ” Kamakawiwo’ole.  I’d heard it before (IZ’s cover had been around for a decade or so, by this point), but that night we listened to it again and again.  In retrospect, that might seem a bit maudlin, but in that moment it was just heavenly, and whenever I hear the ukulele, it is to that moment that my mind immediate travels.

Speaking of Hawaii, another example of this happened recently, as I disembarked the plane in Honolulu, HI, a couple days ago.  My brother and I were fortunate to be born to parents who loved to travel, and occasionally enjoyed doing so with their kids in tow.  As I hopped gingerly onto the ramp, a number of my senses were hit simultaneously.  First was the humidity (made all the more evident after years in Las Vegas), then the sounds of the airplanes, and finally that “Hawaii smell” that’s a blend of plumeria, coconut, pineapple, and the Kona Coffee that is served ubiquitously throughout the islands, all intertwined by the breezes blowing off the Pacific.  To wit, it was Honolulu International Airport.  Sure, it could’ve been Faa’a International Airport in Papeete, Tahiti; but odds are that even blindfolded; I’d be able to ascertain my whereabouts.

Then it dawned on me, that if I made the humidity grimier and a bit stickier; and replaced the smells of the plumeria and coconut with those of stale beer and a hint of urine, I could just as well be getting off a plane at LaGuardia, in August.  But again, while those scents might in and of themselves seem vile; when encountered in the right combination, they trigger a sense memory (actually any number of them) of the numerous fun times with dear friends I see whenever in New York.

But now I’m in Hawaii, looking at the sun setting over the Pacific, same as it ever was; so, here’s to the scents that trigger the senses, and help me make sense of it all.

Sense Memories

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