Lifebuoy soap was once the cure for b.o., body odor. Is there a cure for p.o. (perfume) or c.o. (cologne)? Maybe several, but one stands out, as it does in at least one other area of human endeavor, namely abstinence.

If people would stop using the stuff, just saying no, we’d be back to the simple life of b.o.

Or they could save up and buy the non-affordable stuff, whose smell is pleasant in a most non-affordable way.

Adolescent men and boys are the chief target here, trailing clouds of glory as they pass on street or in hallway; but females also sin in this regard.

They should all rush to the nearest toilet and flush down it their affordable deodorants, perfumes, and whatever else they use to mask their natural scent, for which some of us sometimes yearn, believe it or not.

While we’re at it, some recently issued common sense on the subject:

Body odour is caused not by perspiration itself but by the bacterial breakdown of it. Deodorants simply mask the pong. Antiperspirants go a step further, plugging the ducts to stop the perspiration from emerging (aluminium compounds react with the electrolytes in perspiration to form a gel plug in the duct of the sweat gland).

Don’t try to kill all your skin bacteria, says an expert doc, and ditch the cheap perfumes.

The good news for those either aesthetically or ideologically leery of these whiffy chemicals is that a new wave of more “natural” deodorants has recently hit the market. You can now buy sprays and roll-ons that blend essential oils and plants such as lavender, Aloe vera, lemon or coriander, and smell a lot better than their chemical peers.

They work, UK Telegraph’s Lucy Atkins found.

The organic cosmetics company Green People bases its deodorants on the mineral salt alunite, which apparently stops underarm bacteria from thriving. I rolled this on liberally then danced for four hours at a friend’s 40th birthday party.

Astonishingly, I came out smelling of roses (or, more accurately, of a faint blend of rosemary, lavender and peppermint).

So for you smart people, no more sweat-blocking antiperspirant.  Look around for

clever new products containing blends of essential oils and minerals such as zinc ricinoleate, which “fixes” the odours produced by bacteria so they can’t be released.

But beware junk stuff, go for Neal’s Yard, Green People and Culpeper, she says.  Never hoid of ‘em.

 

Health care in Canada — “single-payer,” hailed by statists as the sort we ought to have — ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, according to this from the Hamilton, (Ont.) Spectator discussion opinion polls showing more than three out of four Canadians think their system is “in crisis”:

This . . . is illustrated in our own community by a severe doctor shortage. More than 60,000 city residents do not have a family doctor.

Which is typical of a statist program that imposes itself on how people act when buying and selling things.

There’s trouble in Maine too, Cato Institute tells us: 

When Maine became the first state in years to enact a law intended to provide universal health care, one of its goals was to cover the estimated 130,000 residents who had no insurance by 2009, starting with 31,000 of them by the end of 2005, the program’s first year,” The New York Times reports. “So far, it has not come close to that goal. Only 18,800 people have signed up for the state’s coverage and many of them already had insurance.”

Have signed up?  Can’t sell it, apparently.  Two of Cato’s people, Michael D. Tanner and Michael F. Cannon, have another idea — enacting a standard health insurance deduction, expanding health savings accounts, and deregulating insurance markets.  These reforms “could . . . expand coverage, improve quality [of care] and make care more affordable.”  Don’t know if they’re on the mark or not but strongly suspect it.