A Matter of Perspective

If you've ever been downwind of a pulp and paper mill you know it has a characteristic smell and not a pleasant one.  They use some pretty harsh chemicals to break down the wood into fibers that can be made into paper, and those chemicals have a distinctive "bouquet".

My hometown, Palatka, Florida, has just such a mill, and it has for many years been the largest private employer in the area.  With increasing automation, the number of employees at the mill has declined steadily. While the mill is very important economically in the community today, it was even more so when I was a kid back in the 1960s and early 70s.  

Many of my relatives have supported their families by working at the mill over the years, and some still do.  My dad never worked at the mill, but he put food on our table by selling insurance to many of those who did (see Some of This Might Be True: Inanimate Objects Are Our Real Enemies).

Daddy was going to drive me to school one foggy morning, and as we walked out the front door to the car, the odor of the mill hung in the air like the fog.  The brightest thing I could think to say at that moment was, "Peee-yeww!"  Daddy stopped, drew in a deep breath through his nose, and smilling as he resumed his walk to the car said, "Smells like bread and butter to me."

I have never forgotten that lesson.