And when I used it for the first time, in my hotel room, I was almost knocked over by what I can only describe as a physical memory of my father. It was the smell of him driving me to school, and of him bending over to pull tight and tie the cord in the hood of my snow jacket, and of him fixing himself a drink in the pantry while he and my mother were waiting for dinner guests to arrive.
— David Owen writes about rediscovering his father's Old Spice in "The Dime Store Floor" (subtitled What did childhood smell like?) in this week's New Yorker. The article is not available online unless you're a subscriber, but you can access a short audio slideshow on their website (and Owen does discuss the Old Spice near the end). Many thanks to Jessica for the tip!