I have a confession.
I enjoy the smell of water rides. You know, that mix of dirty water, chlorine, and constantly damp cavernous area that you find on rides like Splash Mountain. When I mention this to people (usually on the ride itself and not out of the blue), everyone always makes a face and thinks that my weird affinity for such a disgusting smell is reprehensible. I always maintain that the “water ride smell” is not nearly as bad as such toxic smells like cigarette smoke or gasoline, but I admit that it is a bit weird.
I think I have finally determined an explanation.
While I suppose it is possible that I just inherently enjoy that mildewed smell, I realized that I only enjoy the scent because it is reminiscent of the smell of my old basement where I hung out growing up. It was my feel good place in the house, the spot where I could escape the heat of summer and invent crazy makeshift sports and watch the Cardinals or Blues game while eating a nice cold grapefruit. It was freedom from (my little) responsibility, my own little cave that I could rule over and have fun in before having to attend to the drone of homework or practicing piano. That basement constantly required the hum drum of a dehumidifier, frantically and pointlessly fighting a battle it couldn’t win.
This correlation explanation applies to other things in our lives too. So many people going to Las Vegas seek freedom and an escape from the real world, a place where people can leave their responsibilities behind. Getting drunk and doing what people commonly do in Vegas is thus associated with these positives ... but in reality, all you’re doing is smelling bad air.
