Just Be

Mission 1. Hook up with someone as old as my mom (54) and as young as my sister (20) in a month.

I'm pretty confident this weekend will be the weekend. It just feels right. I'm not planning anything, but if it happens, it happens. Hell, I could just as likely hop on a plane to bed a 50-year-old in Minnesota, a 60-year-old in Vegas or a Octogenerian right here in my home state (they do wonders with plastic surgery in L.A.). Who knows?

My newfound confidence seems to have kicked in some macho pheromomes or something. I may need to grow a mustache to keep up. The girls around me seem to a bit more agreeable to my ways too. Can girls smell confidence? A friend of mine told me that most times women want a masculine mate to protect them, but during their ovulation cycle, they want someone more nurturing, that will be able to take care of their kids. Not sure if I buy it, but it could be instinctual.

Anyway, I'm not going to dwell on this task. Where and when it will happen is anyone's business. It all depends on me. In fact, I'm so sure about that I will soon score, I'm not not even going to talk about it anymore. Instead, I thought it would be nice to take you through my history of cologne.

Rob Lowe's History of Cologne
As a pre-teen, I experimented with whatever my dad had on the shelf. Those early experiments were with Jai karate and Pinaud Club Man. I remember seeing a Benny Hill commercial for Jai karate, feeling justified, thinking, "hey that's my brand." Only years later did I realize that my brand was the butt of the joke. But by that time, it wasn't my brand anymore. My taste had grown more sophisticated, more urbane. I was a polo man.

To this day, the warm musk of Polo has to be one of the century's most recognizible scents. It was sweet, pungent and took the cologne scene by storm. Polo, combined with feathered hair, a large comb in the back pocket and a Coke shirt, made even the biggest poser a virtual chick magnet. Polo lasted through most of my teen years until a new scent came on the scene. A scent to different, so unique, I had not choice but to shelve my half empty polo bottle, and embrace this new scent in the sophisticated matte bottle. Drakkar Noir was about to change the lives of millions.

Drakkar was a rebirth of scent. As if my nose had finally awakened after a 15-year slumber. My bottle of Polo became as insignificant as a empty bottle of Coke. It sat on the self for years collecting dust. In retrospect, I feel a bit sad about this. I just used it up and shelved it as a half-empty bottle. It didn't even get a chance to live a full life. Polo, I am sorry. I never intended to hurt you.

After Drakkar, I entered my experimentation phase. First, came Patchouli oil, or "the hippy cologne." This pungent oil smelled like something between bong resin and a girl that doesn't shaver her pits. I guess that's why most people are stoned who wear it. When college was over, so was my patchouli party. It is pretty overwhelming scent in elevators. So I ended it, and that bottle met the same fate as Polo, shelved before completion. My experimentation phase continued with CK1 and to my present cologne, CK Be. Luckily, throughout all of this, I had the wherewithall to see through Polo Sport.

I still enjoy the fresh, crisp scent of CK Be. The mild citrus bouquet and gender-agnostic, free-spirit attitude makes it all the more interesting. It's been three years with Be, but who knows when the day comes when this scent will hit the dusty graveyard.

I smelled Polo today in the hallway. I was surprised people in L.A. still wear it. But it did bring me back to my youth, even if it was brief. You can't put a price on those moments. I was delivered back to the most confident era of my life, and I was able to see how everything had come full circle. It was more than a smell. It was a sign.

I may go out tonight. Will I bag a cougar? That's anybody's business. But one thing I know for sure. I will smell like the 80's. Polo, here I come.

Next week: A trip down memory lane with my hair products!