I like the smell of mildew. (Henry does, too. –Likes our basement smell.) It reminds me of favorite things:
*Opening up a cabin.
*Opening the hatch of my big old wooden sailboat in LA Harbor after not being there a half year.
*The little side-rooms where I stayed at my uncle’s bungalow in the Hollywood Hills before they got AC — they had a tropical, Raymond Chandler vibe … and smell. The windows open to the night. Glossy paint on the stucco walls, for easy wiping-down, but there was always a cool, cavelike smell. A TV writer lived in the downstairs, downhill apartment on the other side of the house, his windows open at night, too — I could hear him typing. All rooms there had equally good views overlooking Hollywood. All rooms had a hillside patio with a view and a fruit tree or two slightly below. Easy to get at an avocado and grapefruit for breakfast. Heavenly mildew — despite the nighttime sounds of the freeway and gunfire (in the 80’s). We’d go thru as much ice as their frig could make. (Now their house is sealed up, dry and cool.)
