White Diamonds

I have recently concluded that there are far too many people who have been dropped on their heads as kids. It would appear to most neurosurgeons that many of these horrible incidents have ended up with little to no permanent damage. Most of society would agree with the experts, but I have to argue against the point with my limited knowledge of brain functions. My premise for arguing in a situation where I have no business arguing hinges upon the crux that is the perfume called White Diamonds by Liz Taylor.

Twelve cranial nerves lie within the brain and are responsible for pretty much all of the functions of sensory perception. I learned them in an anatomy bio 101 class and although it’s been a few years since I learned them, and I have not in any way pursued an education or career in the medical field, I remember all of the cranial nerves and can even remember the functions of some of these nerves. They are as follows: olfactory, optic, oculomotor, trochlear, trigeminal, abducens, facial, vestibulocochlear, glossopharyngeal, vagus, accessory, and hypoglossal. For the purposes of this argument, I would like to focus on the olfactory nerve.

Med students, bio students, and Latin students will all recognize olfactory relates specifically to the sense of smell. This brings me back to the crux of the argument. White Diamonds is perhaps the most overpowering and nasty perfume on the face of the planet, yet somebody feels the need to continue making it. Econ majors, go ahead and throw your supply and demand argument my way. It will only serve to support what I’m saying here. I seriously wonder how this stuff is made. I imagine some factory worker in China is forced to mix large vats of the chemicals that make up this rancid smell without the benefit of a respirator or even a well ventilated warehouse because nobody without brain damage would take that job in the United States. Of course, there are those who have severe damage to the olfactory nerve and the surgeon may have missed it. As for the corporate execs that control releases for the market, they must have olfactory nerve damage too. I would hope that even the most scrupulously bankrupt executive who is most happy selling out would have the slightest moral fortitude to keep that scent out of my nose, but because I smell it from time to time, I must conclude of necessity that these executives have cranial nerve damage too.

In terms of demand for the product, well there has to be somebody wearing the perfume otherwise it would cease production right? The sad truth remains that there are women out there wearing White Diamonds and I smell it all the time. Most of the time my lunch ends up on the floor shortly after the incredibly overbearing smell passes my septum and tickles the cilia in my nostrils followed by an overwhelming migraine that lasts the remainder of the week. Perhaps the worst effect is that the olfactory nerve is also partially responsible for taste so those of us who lack the experience of being dropped on our heads as kids also get to taste it if caught off guard by an infringing wearer of this, the nastiest of perfumes ever made.

Now I’m sure that not all of those who have had their cranial nerves severely disabled because of head trauma wear White Diamonds. Indeed, there are those who may have undetectable head trauma that don’t like Liz Taylor. These are the sensible ones. After all, who in their right mind would want to emulate Liz Taylor? It would be in the best interest of this argument to explore the personality types of those who do like Liz Taylor. The first Taylor attribute that I would like to discuss is the hair. I’m referring specifically to the spiky and/or poofed look. Liz donned both of these styles at some point in what some people mistakenly refer to as a career. Some women jumped on that bandwagon and when the ride stopped, just didn’t see it as a necessity to get down.

A second Taylor attribute that needs mentioning is the wardrobe. A good black pant suit that is “slimming” is typical of the Taylorite. It’s almost a sure sign of White Diamonds ahead, so when you see the black pant suit coming your way, be prepared to hold your breath.

The third Taylor attribute I would like to discuss is the smoking factor. This is perhaps the most grievous offender of the White Diamonds infringement on clean air acts everywhere because the offender is a double offender. First, they dirty up the air with the cigarette smoke (usually done outside), then they pile on the gallons of the nastiest expensive perfume ever created, which pollutes the air indoors. Taylor glamorized smoking and is partially responsible for giving this killer a desirable look. Now she is lending her awful name to the perfume that can be detected from three city blocks away. For shame.

Places that one is most likely to run into the White Diamonds wearer include but are not limited to: any workplace in America that employees 40-50 something women who smoke, any “beauty parlor” that will give a woman a makeover so that she looks like Phyllis from my favorite T.V. show The Office, any scrapbooking party where the mean age is anything over 42 and outside any Williams Sonoma store. The last of these infractions is perhaps the worst because Williams Sonoma usually smells wonderfully of whatever the employees happen to be cooking at the time.
I only say that perhaps this is the worst infraction because the definite worst infraction is an uncommon one. The last place I ever thought I would run into a Taylorite with damage to her olfactory nerve is at Fenway Park. Those who know me well know I am a huge Red Sox fan. When the opportunity to go to a Sox game in Fenway with my brother Colton (also a huge Red Sox fan) presented itself, I jumped at the chance of a lifetime. We had a great time seeing Ted Williams seat, Pesky Pole, the Big Green Monster and all of America’s most beloved ball park. We sat in the front row of the grandstands along the first base line. For those who have not had the opportunity to watch the World Champion Red Sox in Fenway, the grandstand seating begins about 20 rows up. About three innings into watching Clay Bucholz getting shelled and John Lackey dominating my Sox, a Taylorite comes and sits down in row 19 right in front of me and Colton.

Here’s the wrap Taylorites. A baseball game is no place for perfume. There are enough smells to cover up whatever you’re trying to hide. The smell of hot dogs, beer, popcorn, peanuts, fresh grass on the field, and the fact that the venue is outdoors are all great reasons to not wear perfume.

As for you neurosurgeons, every time a head trauma comes into the apt hands of your care, please do the rest of us a favor and check the olfactory nerve three times. With any luck, White Diamonds will be extinct sometime before Liz Taylor.