Moth Balls

They say the sense of smell is the most primitive, and most capable of inducing memories. To this day I love the smell of burning wood, in a fireplace. It makes me think of walking home from friends' houses on Long Island, in late Fall and Winter, with that smell from all of the Levitt houses equipped with fireplaces. I love the smell of a deli -- that mixture of corned beef, pastrami, pickles, and pickled and smoked fish. I thin of my Dad, and going with him to MilJay's, or favorite place in Plainedge...and the time my Mom went to South Florida to move her mother into a nursing home and Dad and I were bachelors for 10 days -- we went to MilJay's three of those nights. And there are the bad smells, the ones that still make me wince. Whenever we visited my Grandmother and Aunt's places in Jackson Heights, there would be that smell -- moth balls. To this day, when I smell them, I think of VERY old people, and that's not a pleasant aroma or memory. Fast forward to my current life, in a big house with a gate in front. We like having the gate, as we can let the dogs out to roam, and even though there's not much crime in our 'hood, I figure the gates make my house less of a target to any miscreants driving by. But every 5 months to a year, the gates fail. I'm on familiar name basis with Ron, the gate guy. Typically, the electronic box stops working, emits a high pitched tone, and I know it is because of the ANTS. Damn things get inside the box, even though it is waterproof. Typically this happens after a cool or cold spell, when the little critters seek warmth. Ron comes, opens the box, clears away the little bastards, and resets the electronics. The bill is around $100. When I call his company, he's there the next day, and always regales me with tales of even stranger stuff he removes from electronic boxes -- lizards, snakes, and once, sadly, a tiny kitten that got into a big box in the Keys. Ron tells me that my ant prevention measures -- sprinkling ant powder all around, works for awhile, and then wears off. He told me to try -- moth balls. He said his customers have reported they work -- keep ants away just like they work on moths. He said most people under 85 would rather have ants than the stink of the moth balls, but outside... And so today, while Wifey was at Pinecrest Library volunteering herself and D2's special needs Spaniel as a reading dog (the kids like to read to dogs...the dogs generally don't know how to read), I made a trip to my local Home Depot. I always love going there, for several reasons. The first is that I enjoy being around stuff that lets you build a complete house. I'm not handy at all, but I still like the idea of being so, in the way I enjoy watching "This Old House" on PBS. I would never attempt a bathroom renovation, or putting in my own floors, but it's cool to see it done, and know how it gets done. Secondly, one thing I CAN do well is replace lightbulbs, and I am in the process of the third phase of that project. When we moved in, in 2000, "halogen" incadescants were in the house, to be replaced afterwards by mini flourescents -- the ugly coils that used less energy, but whose contents will apparently kill all of us when they escape in our landfills. Now, we're in the LED age -- things last years, use a fraction of the energy of the incandescants and flourescents, but are still way expensive. But sometimes I see them relatively cheaply, at Home Depot, and enjoy getting the bargains. Finally, Home Depot is my largest investment holding, thanks to my friend and broker Pat having me buy it 12 years ago, and so I figure spending money there helps our family finances. So I bought a 75 watt bulb, some replacement vanity bulbs for my mother in law, a new A/C filter for the football room, a new hose for a spigot on the side of the house, and, moth balls. And I learned something, as I placed them around and between the electronic boxes...they sort of melt in your hands, and the scent is impossible to wash off. I scrubbed and scrubbed my hands with soap and even an abrasive pad, and I could not remove the scent of my late, paternal grandmother. So a mystery of my childhood was solved -- moth balls, once used, really stick around you, at least the smell. I take this as a sign from my Dad. To replace the olfactory memory assault, I need to visit Lots of Lox later this week -- for a corned beef on rye. Ah, the scent of that should do the trick...