10 Days for NPH — Day Two

Recently, news of the inevitable swine flu pandemic has ebbed.  Coupled with the 1 hour drive to move 4 miles, I actually took the Swine Flu Express to and from work yesterday.  Let me clarify—when I say that the news has ebbed, I mean in the States.  Not so much in China.  If you are Mexican (or “look” Mexican) and traveling to China, here’s what you can expect.  From the NY Times:

OUTBREAK!!!

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Yes, folks, my people don’t kid.  China is not the greatest country for freedom of speech or other progressive liberties, but it is a good place to be the target of pandemic profiling.

Speaking of the swine flu, I’ve been more vigilent about the amount of time I have washed my hands recently.  The CDC suggests washing hands with warm water and soap for 20 seconds.  It’s kind of like your dentist telling you to brush your teeth for 2 minutes.  Without a means to regulate yourself, you end up brushing your teeth for all of 30 seconds and curse yourself as you sit in the dentist’s chair getting chastised for improper oral hygeine as a chick with intense perfume hovers over you, jabbing your gums raw with what feels like an ice pick in the third chapter of Basic Instinct.  So, for my teeth, I invested in the Sonicare brushing system, which basically runs and counts down the 2 minutes for me.  

For my hands, however, there is no machine I can purchase.  The CDC recommends that children sing “Happy Birthday” all the way through to achieve the 20-second wash.  Frankly, if it’s not my birthday or anyone else’s birthday, the thought of singing “Happy Birthday” is horrifying, because it is just a constant reminder that my body is degenerating from its 25-year old physical and mental peak.  Being that I use the facilities more than most due to my infatuation with H2O, I really don’t want to put myself through that mental destruction.

So what song can I sing?  In honor of NPH, I tried to sing some numbers from Rent.  I tried Seasons of Love, but repeating “525,600 minutes” over and over again also made me feel old.  So instead, I settled on singing the title song, Rent.

Mark:  How do you document real life when real life’s getting more like fiction each day?  Headlines–bread-lines, blow my mind and now this deadline “eviction—or pay!”  Rent!

Roger:  How do you write a song when the chords sound wrong though they once sounded right and rare?  When the notes are sour, where is the power you once had to ignite the air?

Mark:  And we’re hungry and frozen!

Roger:  Some life that we’ve chosen!

Mark & Roger:  How we gonna pay?  How we gonna pay?  How we gonna pay?  Last year’s rent!

An added benefit of singing this song as you wash your hands is that, if you decide to accidentally sing it out loud, the bathroom may quickly empty, allowing you to wash your hands in peace and further avoid contact with any potentially infected individuals.  So NPH (and Jonathan Larson), thank you.  You’ve saved my life.

Discover me, Tina Fey NPH!!!

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Filed under Life, Plea to NPH, Plea to Tina Fey, Travel

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