My dad was a pilot for United Airlines for 26 years and during that time he flew to many cities around the world and stayed in hundreds of hotel rooms. As most of us know, one of the small, but significant, luxuries of sleeping in hotel rooms are the little bars of complimentary soap that patiently await our arrival. We all expect the soap to be there and if we ever arrived and there not be soap, I’m 48% certain we would be miffed at the tragic inconvenience. (I’m exaggerating a point)
One of my father’s questionable character traits was that he could never pass up something free. For example, he loved to go into the bank rather than us an ATM because they provided free cups of coffee. He loved to go grocery shopping at Albertson’s rather than Ralph’s because Albertson’s always had free samples. And as a constant sleeper in hotel rooms across this planet, he couldn’t resist helping himself to the complimentary bars of soap. So much so that we had a huge ‘big box’ collection of hotel soaps at home, all of them patiently waiting to be used. However, as the years carried on and the family grew up and moved out, the ratio of soaps coming in and the speed at which they were used did not match up. So, as a result, the ‘big box’ of collected soaps grew. And grew. And grew. Finally it became apparent that the next 12 generations would never have to buy a bar of soap again.
To add another layer to the ridiculous, around 1990 my parents decided on a new soft water system for our house. As a bonus the company threw in a 5 year supply of free ‘pure soap’. The one thing my family would never need again was the one thing this soft water company was giving away complementary. Of course my dad took it… it was free after all.
My parents have both passed away and when my sisters and I did the painstaking process of cleaning out the house, I found some sentimental value in keeping all those bars of soap. I’ve thought, on occasion, a romantic notion would be to visit all of the hotels my father stayed in and secretly replace the soap right where it started. Perhaps a personal homage to my father or an idea that the soap is a treasure map, or a trail of bread crumbs to all the places my father had traveled. It’s a story waiting to be written. A movie waiting to be made.
In reality, I figured it’s best not to subject the hotel guests to soap that is well over 20 years old! Did I mention that? Yes, all of this soap was collected during the years of 1966 to 1992. And I’ve discovered, in a rather unfortunate way, that some soap actually has an expiration date. It doesn’t always look yellow or grow bacteria but it can still give you a pretty itchy rash.
The only soap that hasn’t caused any problem is the ‘pure soap’ given to us by the soft water company. I know it sounds crazy… That soap is too old to use… However, it still does the job and it’s not irritating, so why not!? But just to be sure, I did Google some articles to find out about soap that expires. The answer is, ‘it depends on what it made out of’.
I’m about to throw out all that hotel soap. However, it’s sentimental. It’s funny to me the things we decide have a history or a significance. The soap doesn’t work anymore as it’s intended function. But now it has a new meaning and a new reason to be. It definitely has a strong connection to my father. It binds my relationship with him in some weird way. I’m sure my entire family can’t see a bar of hotel soap and not think of my dad. I suppose that’s why I’m writing this blog entry… to somehow immortalize the soap. Long live the hotel soap!
