I know. Now I have a smell-o-vision that won't go away. I'm pretty sure this isn't what Maude
had in mind for one of her "odorifics."
In the movie ''Harold and Maude,'' an 80-year old woman coaxes a young man into trying out a rickety machine that plays fragrances the way a Victrola plays tunes. The scents she has hoarded are not Joy or Chanel No. 5, they are everyday smells from a long, fully enjoyed life -- roast beef, old books, mown grass. ''Odorifics,'' Maude calls them. ''Here's one you'll like,'' she exclaims, plunging a canister into the contraption: ''Snowfall on 42nd Street!'' Harold inhales. ''What do you smell?'' she demands. ''Subway?'' he asks. She nods. ''Perfume. Cigarettes.'' He coughs . . . then there's a pause. With quiet wonder, he says, ''Snow.''
~By Chandler Burr.
