The Idle American

During growing-up years, I don’t remember hearing much talk about splashing on sweet-smelling stuff. Surely it was poetic injustice, what with cotton-picking heating up many of my kin who labored in the fields, not to mention other farm chores that caused streams of sweat that seemed inevitable during half of each calendar year. The injustice? Air-conditioning was a term we hadn’t heard of; the…