Dr. Bronner's Magic Soaps

For those of you post-hippie hippies, yippies, yuppies or, as the new generation calls it, "greenies," let this half-a-century old baby boomer let you in on a trade secret: Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap, specifically, the 18-in-1 Hemp Peppermint Pure Castile Soap Liquid Soap.

This stuff is the mystical, magical tour-de-force of the soap world. I've had a bottle of it sitting somewhere in my bathrooms for over 30 years. Didn't matter what apartment or house I lived in, or what state I found myself learning new roads in – Dr. Bronner's Peppermint Soap was there, right beside the ever-present Oil of Olay and the deep blue kohl eye makeup I've used ever since I was 17. Some things just don't change.

The labels are enough to make me smile, let alone the almost overpowering scent of peppermint. I'm not sure I've ever actually been able to read one entire label in a sitting (or standing, or washing). They've changed over the years, so there's always something new. It's like having a preacher serve you up a fire-and-brimstone sermon while you're scrubbing your feet. There are quotes from Abe Lincoln and Noah Webster and soapmaker Bronner preaching his ALL-ONE philosophy. You have to read it to believe it. You can almost hear Hari-Krishnas chanting and see George Harrison's image in the steam created by standing in the shower for the extra ten minutes it takes to get through one passage.

That's just the outside of the bottle. What's inside is a whole 'nother story.

I've used this stuff to wash generations of Scottie-dogs, and it cleans them like no dog shampoo ever has. I've used it to wash my hair and my skin, and especially like to use it as a foot soak (peppermint being a natural deodorant – and we could all use a nice, invigorating foot soak). I've used it as a dish soap in a pinch, though I wouldn't use it on a daily basis, cause it's pretty powerful. And, for the sake of your sanity, don't use it on anything faintly resembling a rash or any of your various private parts. I always take it when I travel, and I remember my step-son-in-law coming out of the bathroom smelling like peppermint, remarking about just how much it stings on certain parts of the male anatomy. Hey, I warned him. He won't mess with ol' Dr. Bronner's again.