Who remembers TCP? Seemed to be a snake oil salesman’s cure for all and sundry, when I was growing up. And the smell. Apparently, originally it was the phenol which supported its magical cure abilities.

Memories and the emotions linked to smells can increase your happy hormone levels and trigger a positive feeling in the body, reducing stress and supporting your mental health.

Me: Golden syrup, burnt toast and Vosene acted as safe words. Kep guns as child might have made me feel less safe, the aroma is still real. And a canny bag of Tudor Pickled Onion. What about the smell of ambition like Ally McLeod passed on to all us kids in 1978?

What distant smell recalls do you have? Try and trigger your happy hormones for a better day.

1978

If you could capture a memorable smell from the 70s, or trap it in a bottle

Would it raise a smile in your mind and help you reflect like Aristotle

Would it burst, throwing stale cigarette smoke in the air, with clouded curses, like the Sweeney and Jack Regan

Or would your dad, smell like he was going out to see a man about a dug, more Brylcreme and Brut like Kevin Keegan

Would a smile be on your face as you recollect the scent of purple tooty frootys and the joy of a wet skipping rope

Or would sadness be afoot at the thought of the school gym, swimming, cross country running and pink carbolic soap

Would a whiff of burning stoor, or a waft from a cooling storage heater be a constant in the hairs in your nose

Or would holey black and white baseball boots, 2 sizes too big (but you’re wearing them), be rancid from your toes

Would you be reminded of the clinical aroma as your mum applies Vosene in yer hair and you float safely in a bath

Or would distant memories of playing cowboys and cowboys (no Indians), with keps and candy stick smokes, come rushing back

Would you rediscover sweet golden syrup and burnt toast when you visit your grans

Or a completely different aroma each time you were taken screaming to your nans

Would you be taken back to that stench of hessian sack, with boulders inside, destined apparently, for a vet

Or would there be traces of Vesta curry and the vanilla from Artic Roll in every cupboard in your kitchenette

Would you recall hints of guy fawkes, or housefires, then a weekly occurrence in every street

Or would your fridge smell of mixed fruit cocktail and that ‘leave it – that’s for dad’ type of meat

Would the distinct bouquet of Alpine limeade or Tudor Pickled Onion be foremost in your mind

Or would you remember the tang of hot summers, melting pavements and lime of a different kind

Would it be the scent of Zest or Camay, that was absorbed into the towels at your Auntie Jeans

Though, it’s a 100% guaranteed that she’s not your real auntie, but you know what I mean

Would the whiff of the crust of a plain loaf burning under the grill be floating through the air

Or would TCP, with its miracle ailment qualities fix the full families annual wear and tear

Would there be an air of new build homes or foosty derelict buildings and general urban decay

Or would essence of pages of a Kays catalogue remind you of your family Christmas day

If you could bottle a smell from your childhood, or trap it in a bubble

Would it bring back happy smiley candyfloss memories, or would it remind you more of trouble

1978 – Poetcast Video

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R G Robb 2021