Body Odor

There was something in the wind when Jennifer Sheppard kicked Darnay Hoffman out of their apartment. That something was Hoffman, her husband. He had "terrible body odor," she claimed. This week, a Manhattan judge agreed Sheppard had the right to throw him out. For, while Sheppard may have pledged to love her husband in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, she was not obligated to put up with his allegedly powerful aroma. Darnay "had stopped washing his upper body and has stopped changing his clothes, wearing them for weeks at a time . . . the odor permeated the entire apartment, including the carpets and furniture," noted acting Supreme Court Justice Walter Schackman.

A young woman told a Philadelphia jury yesterday that after she was raped repeatedly, her attacker went to her kitchen and helped himself to a dish of pesto chicken from the refrigerator. After returning to the bedroom and eating the chicken, the woman said, accused rapist and home-invader Domenique Thomas Wilson wiped his hands on her naked body and spanked her bottom. Wilson, 25, then used duct tape to bind her hands and feet behind her back, the woman told the jury on the third day of Wilson's trial in the Common Pleas Court.

In a world so often fetid and unfriendly, thank heavens Valentine's Day soon will flaunt the bond between the heart and the nose. If you've never considered the connection, consult with cognitive neuroscientist Johan Lundström, who makes his money by studying how mating calls can be smelled as well as heard. "My research is aimed toward a better understanding of the cerebral basis for chemosensory and multimodal processing," he writes, in the least amorous of terms, on the website of his employer, the Monell Chemical Senses Center in University City.

Word in the hallways was that it would be about the birds and the bees. But when fourth graders gathered for a recent assembly in Springside Elementary School's gym, the discussion turned to a different kind of animal function. "We're here today to talk about some of the unpleasant things humans have to deal with," teacher John Langdon told the boys gathered in the school's gym. "Animals send out information by smell. If humans are animals, what message do we send out if we give off an odor?

In the beginning, it was typical preteen behavior and her parents shrugged it off as their daughter's "hogging the bathroom. " Concerned about body odor, Linda, then 11, was spending more than 10 minutes in the shower. Gradually that increased to 20 minutes, half an hour, an hour and then up to two hours - leaving her skin raw. "My family was angry. They thought I was a rebellious teenager getting even with my sister by stubbornly staying in the bathroom. When I told them I couldn't stop, they didn't understand," said Linda.

Dear Gov. Casey: Earlier this month I exhorted you to nail down a permanent legacy for yourself by leading the final push for merit selection of the state's judges. Your prestige, I said, could elevate the debate from just another political wrangle to a moral issue. Your reply in The Inquirer correctly chastised me for neglecting to give you the full credit you deserve for your past efforts to reform Pennsylvania's courts. But the rest of your letter suggests that you know even less about me than I know about you. You say that I "would never think to speak out against the violence of abortion," but in fact I've done so on several occasions, and in language very similar to yours.

Coming soon to an elevator near you: an Internet Web site that will bring you news, weather, pictures and more, until you reach your floor. Imagine having something to stare at besides the numbers over the elevator door, the back of a stranger's neck, or your shoes. A Boston-based company called Captivate Network provides this service now to building customers in Boston, Chicago, New York and Stamford, Conn. The company is now filling orders from the West Coast and Texas, but expects to be in Philadelphia "within months," says spokesman Ned Costello.

HE PAYS $61,760 FOR RIGHT TO HAND OVER A ROYAL GLOVE A British royalist has paid $61,760 for a title that could give him a cameo role in the coronation when heir-to-the-throne Prince Charles becomes king. John Hunt, a retired transport manager from northern England, became Lord of the Manor of Worksop when he bought the title at an open auction this week. Under a tradition dating from the 14th century, the holder of the Worksop lordship presents a glove to the new monarch during the coronation ceremony and supports his or her right arm to take the weight of the royal sceptre.

Online has a whole different meaning in the nation's capital. Time is money, as the cliche goes, and in this town, your time spent waiting on line for someone else can make you a lot of money. Maybe it doesn't come as a huge surprise that some folks (lobbyists, lawyers - that is, "suits") pay other folks (college students, retirees, the homeless, or "sweat suits") to hold places for them in lines to attend important hearings on Capitol Hill. What may come as a revelation is how lucrative the business can be. One line-standing firm recently raked in $26,000 for one hearing.

In a world so often fetid and unfriendly, thank heavens Valentine's Day soon will flaunt the bond between the heart and the nose. If you've never considered the connection, consult with cognitive neuroscientist Johan Lundström, who makes his money by studying how mating calls can be smelled as well as heard. "My research is aimed toward a better understanding of the cerebral basis for chemosensory and multimodal processing," he writes, in the least amorous of terms, on the website of his employer, the Monell Chemical Senses Center in University City.

A young woman told a Philadelphia jury yesterday that after she was raped repeatedly, her attacker went to her kitchen and helped himself to a dish of pesto chicken from the refrigerator. After returning to the bedroom and eating the chicken, the woman said, accused rapist and home-invader Domenique Thomas Wilson wiped his hands on her naked body and spanked her bottom. Wilson, 25, then used duct tape to bind her hands and feet behind her back, the woman told the jury on the third day of Wilson's trial in the Common Pleas Court.

Forty-two years after Dr. Leonard H. "Bones" McCoy first waved his tricorder over a patient to make a diagnosis in the original Star Trek, scientists yesterday presented the basis for a handheld electronic nose to detect the most common kind of cancer. It is far from ready for prime time. But the concept - using nanotechnology to "sniff" the air and instantly detect a telltale pattern of chemicals - could have widespread application, from military (catching a whiff of a buried land mine)

Forty-two years after Dr. Leonard H. "Bones" McCoy first waved his tricorder over a patient to make a diagnosis in the original Star Trek, scientists yesterday presented the basis for a handheld electronic nose to detect the most common kind of cancer. It is far from ready for prime time. But the concept - using nanotechnology to "sniff" the air and instantly detect a telltale pattern of chemicals - could have widespread application, from military (catching a whiff of a buried land mine)

George Preti didn't go to medical school. He is a Ph.D. organic chemist, his lab stocked with gas chromatography equipment and test tubes. He has data to analyze and three post-docs to supervise, and he faces that familiar problem of the modern scientist: Grant money is running low. Yet once every week or two, he squeezes in time for a money-losing venture. For a nominal fee, he meets with people who have come to his Philadelphia lab from all over the world, typically after waiting more than a year.

Online has a whole different meaning in the nation's capital. Time is money, as the cliche goes, and in this town, your time spent waiting on line for someone else can make you a lot of money. Maybe it doesn't come as a huge surprise that some folks (lobbyists, lawyers - that is, "suits") pay other folks (college students, retirees, the homeless, or "sweat suits") to hold places for them in lines to attend important hearings on Capitol Hill. What may come as a revelation is how lucrative the business can be. One line-standing firm recently raked in $26,000 for one hearing.

He wears too much cologne. She could use some for her body odor. He sings along - badly, loudly - to the radio. And speaking of loud, must everyone overhear her steamy phone call about "last night?" You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your coworkers. Lord knows it's difficult enough to go to work some days without the added aggravation of loudmouths, gum-crackers, and the greasy-haired gross-outs who could win trophies for bad odors, bad breath and bad grooming.

Coming soon to an elevator near you: an Internet Web site that will bring you news, weather, pictures and more, until you reach your floor. Imagine having something to stare at besides the numbers over the elevator door, the back of a stranger's neck, or your shoes. A Boston-based company called Captivate Network provides this service now to building customers in Boston, Chicago, New York and Stamford, Conn. The company is now filling orders from the West Coast and Texas, but expects to be in Philadelphia "within months," says spokesman Ned Costello.

Word in the hallways was that it would be about the birds and the bees. But when fourth graders gathered for a recent assembly in Springside Elementary School's gym, the discussion turned to a different kind of animal function. "We're here today to talk about some of the unpleasant things humans have to deal with," teacher John Langdon told the boys gathered in the school's gym. "Animals send out information by smell. If humans are animals, what message do we send out if we give off an odor?

HE PAYS $61,760 FOR RIGHT TO HAND OVER A ROYAL GLOVE A British royalist has paid $61,760 for a title that could give him a cameo role in the coronation when heir-to-the-throne Prince Charles becomes king. John Hunt, a retired transport manager from northern England, became Lord of the Manor of Worksop when he bought the title at an open auction this week. Under a tradition dating from the 14th century, the holder of the Worksop lordship presents a glove to the new monarch during the coronation ceremony and supports his or her right arm to take the weight of the royal sceptre.