African Black Soap

I'm an impulse buyer. I remember one time I was at a Borders waiting in line to buy a book - I know, crazy - and I saw something bright and shiny near the registers. It was a thimble. I grabbed it. It was attached to one of those tiny books, like three inches by three inches. It was a book on quilting. I bought it, gave it to a friend who quilts.

I remember another time at a record shop in LA there was a pyramid of mustards at check out. The guy's brother did something with Stadium Mustard out of Cleveland. "Yeah, I'll take these cds... and some mustard," I said. Turns out it's awesome mustard.

I use Dr Bronners's peppermint soap. It's something I discovered in college. The label is craziness, all about cleanliness and godliness in tiny letters written horizontal and vertical over every square inch of the bottle. I've tried the other 'flavors', but peppermint is my favorite. It makes me feel clean. Sometimes it stings - that's how I know it's working. My wife hates it. She doesn't like the way it smells and she thinks it's strong enough to remove paint from cars, tar from roads.

It probably is.

We just had a baby. During her pregnancy, my wife developed a superpower. She can smell things from three days away. For example, she'll point to the egg salad I'm eating and say, "You shouldn't eat that. It's spoiled."

"But I just made it 15 minutes ago."

"Throw it away. It's bad."

A few months ago I ventured into new soap territory. I figured it would make my wife happy. I got some Kiss My Face Mint and Citrus Bath Gel. Meh. It doesn't lather up. I can't tell if I'm using anything. I don't stink so I guess it's working. My wife seems pleased.

But I know what you're thinking. Why are you telling me any of this? Who the fuck cares about your condiment triumphs and shower needs?

Because a few weeks ago I got some Alaffia African Black Soap. It lathers up some. It's no Dr Bronner's, but it'll do. I got it specifically because it reminds me of my friend Ab. It was a focussed impulse buy.

I don't know if Ab's ever tried this soap or even heard of it. But after college he joined the Peace Corps and went to Africa. He became a teacher and was stateside for awhile, but he got married and his wife is a Foreign Service Officer. He and his family have lived all over the world and currently reside in Bangladesh, which is great. Bully for him.

But I miss him. Not all the time. I have a life. And I get busy. One of my best friends lives just a few blocks away. With work and family and everything else, I don't see him either. But we get together once a month or so. The friends who live around the country, we see each other once or twice a year. Is it enough? No. But that's how it is.

Ab is beyond a time zone, he's in another hemisphere of a different day. I can't call him or text him. And I don't email him because what am I going to email him?

This happened, that happened, I felt like this, and then I felt like that, and then he said she said that they said, can you believe it, oh I miss you so much.

We're dudes. We see each other when we see each other and one says, "Hey, how's it going?" And the other says, "Good. How're you doing?" And then the first one says, "Good." And we're all caught up. That's all we need.

Mostly.

I use the social media. I post short bursts of flotsam/jetsam of my life when I have the time; usually when I'm on the can taking care of business. Why? Because that's all I got. At the end of the day, I'm done. I don't even like to talk on the phone. I hang with my wife, take care of our kids, talk about our day, watch some tv, and try to get some sleep.

I like seeing my friends and family on the socmeds. I like wandering through their digital detritus. For a moment, I have a connection; a tiny glimpse and sense of time and place. It's nice. I like seeing their kids, their homes, their vacations. And I like reading something they thought was interesting, or listening to a song they like, or watching a video they thought was funny.

I mean, not all the time. Ain't nobody got time for that*.

Personally, I try to share funny, interesting, and semi-personal things on the fb. And I try to like and comment and be supportive. (And say happy bday to people because that's the very least I can do, right?) On twitter I post snark, politics, bizarrities, and self indulgent half-brilliance. I instagram 'iphoneography' as R. Von Sugarfoot. (I also keep private twitter and instagram accounts of my kids for close friends and family.) I pinterest - well, I don't really pinterest. And I tumblr my dad's FaceTime fiascos, although he's pretty much got it now.

And I blog shit like this because that's what I do.

Yes, facebook can be a weird place if you don't visit enough. I mean it's a game you can't win, you just play. And yes, I know it can be a bit of an estrogen drip if you don't beef up your feed. But I created a private group. It's just me and Ab and a few other guys. No fuss, no muss.

But it doesn't matter. You can lead a horse to water, right? C'est la vie, non?

Anyway, I think of Ab whenever I reach for the African Black Soap. I imagine him biking somewhere and seeing roadkill I might only see in a zoo. Maybe he's breathing in the black smoke of some third world vehicle that doesn't require emissions testing as he waits with his kids to cross a street. It could be that he's at a cafe trying to figure out which sandwich contains chicken.

Or he's in the backyard drinking a beer watching the Bears on pirate satellite with his expat friends from work, and he's wondering if I'm watching the Bears and did I make some wings and if I did they're probably hot as fuck.

SO, sure, this is mostly for Ab. But it's for all my friends I don't see enough. I miss you and love you and stuff... You know, whatever.


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