By Mickey Hadick, on January 5th, 2012 In the movie “Contagion”, the transfer mechanism that spreads the deadly virus is the combination of touching an infected object and then touching your eyes, nose, or mouth before disinfecting your hands. The deadly little monsters are everywhere, it turns out, and our strange habits of self-soothing lead to our demise. Riding the bus had never seemed the best way to travel, but that movie made it downright scary–and I’ve ridden the bus in downtown Cleveland in the 70s.
I have been painfully self-conscious of this face-touching habit in myself, and thought I had it fixed, but the other day I touched myself in a way that was a problem.
Like most people, I touch quite a few things in the course of a day, but I also wash my hands a lot. In winter my hands are red and raw from their essential oils being scrubbed away. In summer, fungus grows on the north side of my palm due to insufficient drying. In general, I wash enough that I think I do a good job of removing foreign agents from my skin. That, and being particular about how, where, and when I touch myself should have kept me risk free.
My problem is that I’m too nice. My neighbor asked me to feed his cats during the weekend, and I agreed. That’s not the part of me that is too nice. I don’t think helping a neighbor is ever a too nice of a thing to do, short of lending them money or inserting a catheter. While I fed the cats, I took pity on them and petted them.
A few minutes later, my right eye started to itch. It itched and itched and itched, and I scratched. Only after a serious session of eye-gouging did I realize I was touching myself inappropriately. Then I also realized that I must have touched myself prior to that, delivering the allergen that so tormented me directly to one of the three most sensitive parts of my body. It’s like waking up with a rash in your privates and the vague memory of dream you can’t repeat to anyone.
My eye swelled up, and only several hours of a cold compress brought relief. The memory of those few hours of discomfort shall stand as a strong reminder to ignore cats and to keep my hands to myself.
By Mickey Hadick, on November 28th, 2011 My first job out of college, I thought I was lucky enough to be given a job by my roommate’s father, who was a VP at a computer company. I had gotten a degree in Computer Engineering, and I was sure I’d have great fun writing software. But the guy was a salesman, not a . . . → Read More: Adventures in Misalignment – The Travel Job
By Mickey Hadick, on November 21st, 2011 I recently spent some time up a ladder to paint the trim on the house. It’s an extension ladder that stretches to twenty-some feet and I’ve gotten fairly comfortable, even when I’ve climbed to a reasonably unsafe height. It briefly crosses my mind that something bad could happen without a lot of effort on my . . . → Read More: Down the Up Ladder
By Mickey Hadick, on November 6th, 2011 Kids are notorious for doing dumb stuff, but it’s only “dumb” in the way dogs can look dumb when you pretend to throw a ball and they chase after nothing. As kids grow up, though, they mostly get better at knowing when they look and fixing the situation. Still, it is pretty dumb stuff. I . . . → Read More: Smart versus dumb, right versus wrong
By Mickey Hadick, on October 23rd, 2011 I grew up around boats, as I’ve mentioned before. They were fishing boats–small boats with outboard motors, suitable for small, inland lakes, and they were parked all over our back yard. My father took us out on Lake Erie in those boats, and once or twice we were caught in storms that are memorable to . . . → Read More: Boat Stories–Setting Sail for a New Beginning
By Mickey Hadick, on September 8th, 2011 I did not want to study chemistry in college. I had been accepted to the College of Engineering, and it seemed to make sense (economic sense) to pursue that, but the closest to technical subjects I wanted was computer programming. To stay in Engineering, I had to take one Chemistry class. I didn’t want to . . . → Read More: Adventures in Misalignment–Chemistry Class
By Mickey Hadick, on August 1st, 2011 Being a kid ain’t easy, and figuring out what you’re going to do with the rest of your life is the most important thing you’ll do. It takes some people decades to reach the correct decision. But when you’re fifteen, figuring out what to do after school or on the weekend can be debilitating in . . . → Read More: Adventures in Misalignment–Pumping Gas
By Mickey Hadick, on July 4th, 2011 The Von Trapp Family Singers
I was drawn to the idea of music at an early age, probably because of the movie, The Sound of Music. I had a crush on all of the Von Trapp sisters — adoring the older ones as each successive year went by — nothing creepy, it’s just that . . . → Read More: Adventures in Misalignment–Music Lessons
By Mickey Hadick, on May 21st, 2011
I recently tried to take a proactive approach to managing my dandelion situation. I retrieved a jug of weed killer from the shelf, something I used last year, and like an illiterate looking for a haircut by walking into the store with the candy-cane post out front, I trusted the picture of the dead . . . → Read More: Learn From My Lawn Care
By Mickey Hadick, on April 22nd, 2011 In the fifties and sixties, American culture was shaped when lunch counters became one of the focal points for establishing racial integration. Lunch counters were the precursors to modern fast food, and it wasn’t just Woolworth’s and S.S. Kresge’s stores that had them, but nearly every store with a little sliver of space provided . . . → Read More: Shopping With Mom-The Lunch Counter Incident
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