That New Smell — A Bedtime Story.

Edition #106 — May 20, 2008

An overwhelming smell of new plastic has invaded my bedroom. There's a good reason for this considering the brand new Coleman "airbed" leaning against the far wall. It's upright to air out that "new" smell. Only three weeks ago I would have found that stink intolerable and tossed it outdoors. But today it almost smells like Heaven to my thoroughly abused respiratory system, even if it is just a plastic heaven.

This latest adventure began with a reasonable notion: Since the township was hauling away household goods, I thought that I'd put old "Betsy" out on the curb and buy myself a nice new futon bed instead. Though still comfy, I wanted to replace my old Queen size box spring with something smaller and portable to leave more room for my music equipment (Yup, you heard me right, ladies). And so, on my birthday in late April I began the quest for this new and improved sleeping arrangement. What I found was a stinky nightmare of achy restlessness.

Follow your nose.

I knew exactly what I wanted: the same futon as an old girlfriend of mine used to own. I eventually found it in a bedroom and futon shop after checking all the major retailers in town. My choice was based upon pleasant memories etched upon this model. I figure it was "pre-approved" since I'd slept on its kin on many occastions in the past. Well, maybe not slept so much.

Unfortunately, only the frame was available, so I bought it and was promised it's companion mattress could be picked up in "two or three days." Liar! I spent the next week spurning the floor through various configurations of couch cushions and comforters. Ironically, an old air mattress barely able to fit my shoulders was what gave me my best night's sleep during that otherwise dreadful week. Look, I've slept in bathtubs, trucks and on hardwood floors in my youth, but I've come to realize that few things are as precious to me as getting a good night's sleep. So after a week of aching floor shoulders and low REM grumpiness I called that futon store and they assured me that my new mattress would arrive that day, "in the afternoon sometime".

The Rise and Fall of Customer Service

When I arrived at the store, I was told that my mattress hadn't been in that day's shipment. In hindsight, I had a bad vibe about this place from early on. However, I'd been to the other retailers in town and no one but these guys had my desired futon. So I walked in, saw it and bought it. And now this.

The manager, in a questionable act of grace, offered me one of their "premium" mattresses for a mere $40 dollars extra. "I'm giving you a good deal" he said. But upon returning home I realized that it may have actually been a bad one.

As I removed the plastic wrapper, I noticed a strong, irritating smell hitting my nostrils. 'Okay, it's new,' I thought, and figured that the smell would go away in a day or so. Wrong! Two days later, fearing some chemical evil might be lurking inside my mattress, I contacted the mattress manufacturer but received no reply (even to this day). That's got to be a bad sign. I then opened the zipper covering and saw the culprit: cedar wood chips mixed into the wool batting. Mucho stinky and irritating.

My father is a carpenter and I recall him telling me about a guy who walked off the job due to his having a cedar allergy. Cedar wood has a strong, irritating smell which acts as a natural pesticide to keep bugs from attacking the tree. Some people are allergic to it and chronic exposure causes a form of asthma called "Woodcutter's Lung." The mattress people blended it into the wool to repel bedbugs but wound up repelling me instead. My ears, nose and throat were itching madly and I was stuffed up with snot. Ewwww! I was having an allergic reaction.

I contacted the store and in response to my plea for help the first words out of the futon store manager's mouth were "Bring everything back and I'll give you 75% of what you paid!" He acted as though this was my fault. That I should have warned him that I had allergies. But I don't have allergies except to nickel, mustard gas, cobra venom and poorly designed mattresses that smell like hamster bedding. I had to remind the poor fellow that he was there to serve me, not screw me over. I guess he'd forgotten along the way. He called me back with a second offer to refund my $40 and then trade me the bad for the good original mattress which had finally arrived.

Is This How The World Ends?

Just before beginning this newsletter I had to drag that second new mattress out of my room. It also smelled horribly, mostly of Pachouli Oil, from the moment it was unwrapped. Soon I noticed that the smell of cedar was back again too, emanating from what was supposed to be a product made by a different manufacturer. I had washed my entire bedding twice and left my windows open but all this extra effort hadn't even put a dent in what was becoming a caustic smell emanating from this new futon mattress. Oh, and it was very uncomfortable. Shallow, hard and inflexible — kinda like some people I know.

But I already had a plan in motion based upon my earlier research into the art of makeshift floor slumber. Today, in place of that stinky replacement mattress, I bought a brand new Coleman twin-sized airbed. So tonight, instead of a Patchouli pot smoke and cedar deck smell, my new bed will have the fragrance of a rubber dingy. Yup, a story for the grandkids if ever I have my first child.

Wisdom From Adversity?

This experience has made me wonder "Am I getting too old for new smells?" Should I just cling to everything I already own and hunker down for the rest of my life? This has given me some insight as to perhaps why my parents and people of their generation are so reluctant to change their old ways and lifestyles. Smell is a big deal; it's a powerful and underrated sense. There's something soothing about the smells of the past when the future smells so much like plastic.

(One day later): A Well Slept Update

I started the morning hauling my new dingy bed out of the room so that I could remember what clean air smelled like. I couldn't remember. My room is now haunted by the smell remnants of all the thing's I've done in the past 4 weeks in order to get a decent night's sleep. Only now the smell of plastic has been added to the air, my pillows, and my freshly washed sheets. Oh God, why hast thou foresaken me?

On the bright side, I had a great night's sleep. And with my mind a little clearer, I'm now wondering whether I should put my cat's litter box in the middle of the room tonight? Wow, sometimes I'm so smart that I scare myself.

So please excuse me now. I must go to the basement.



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