Germville's Little Orchestra

My late grandmother, Bea, spent the last two decades of her life struggling to open medicine bottles. I remember her standing in the kitchen, reading the cap on the aspirin and twisting with a grunt, over and over.
“It’s not childproof… it’s Beatrice-proof!” she would joke, handing the bottle to a nearby grandchild.
It took one idiot with a grudge to create the great Tylenol scare that made us wake up and smell the packaging.
As Americans, “Post 9/11,” our safety revolves around trusting that some extremist with a headache doesn't unleash a vial of evil.
But we are all vulnerable every day - to the unseen Warlords of the Micro World.
As a former Home Economics teacher once said with emotion before cleaning: “It’s about the germs, people!”
We assume all plastic items we buy are clean. We assume paper plates are sterile, that paper towels are cleaner than the surface they clean, assume that anti-bacterial items clean better than regular soap, assume every doorknob and switch we touch is clean.
I won’t even mention public toilets, sinks or changing tables. (Greg's Secret Germ Spot? The kitchen counter, right where you break your eggs. A little drippy of yolk gets out every time...ewww.)
Even our money is dirtier than a five-year-old after recess. Analysis of cash shows residue of cocaine and oodles of viral goodies. Bank tellers could become little “Typhoid Mary’s” if they aren’t careful.
Every year or two, a TV news special will highlight how dirty our workplaces are, showing that our desks are sometimes 10 times dirtier than a public toilet seat.
"Better Lysol that memo, Fern!"

People are dirty machines; We live with a film of bacteria and germs all over our bodies, and not just where you think.
Our eyebrows are full of thousands of tiny, skin eating guys, just feasting on dead skin - which is what the majority of dust is made of, you know.
We brush our teeth and assume a shot of awful tasting blue liquid will “kill the germs,” but don’t realize our guts are full of billions of little critters, making a smorgasbord out of our hot dish and dessert.
Ever look under your fingernails with a microscope? It looks like a tiny city of germs, akin to a Dr. Seuss story about beings with little feelers and strange musical instruments. (“Germville’s Little Orchestra?”)
Several Polk County Human Services workers have their own eerie stories on the mold and mildew “villages” discovered in their former building - was so bad it become a parking lot.
Serious health problems left some of those workers incapacitated. It took several years of examples and personal stories before the county took action on that scum-brewing building.
“Sick Building Syndrome” is the latest catchword, and something we all need to respect and prevent.
Then there is the shower, which always looks clean to me, since I don’t wear my glasses in that room. When I do check the stall with specs on, the reality changes.
One of my college houses was in need of serious bathroom work, and I had a roommate with the elite job of painting fire hydrants. We therefore had an abundance of excess bright red paint to use.
You guessed it, we painted everything fire hydrant red - excluding the sink and toilet - and had a “Graffiti the Bathroom Party” with permanent markers. The sayings, drawings and cartoons were better than an Indiana truck stop. It looked weird, but more sterile, and was also easier to clean.
Dogs kept lifting their legs on the walls, however. (Fire hydrant, you know.)
Think of all the potentially “dirty” stuff that crosses our lips: Bottle tops, plastic silverware (an oxymoron, I know), toothbrushes, stamps, pet kisses (at least in our house), cigarettes, gum, even our fingers when we turn pages.
“Germ swapping” (kissing) is scarier than eating food off a movie theater floor.
Life is a potentially very dangerous affair.
But our bodies are built for the germs, and several studies show pet owners are less likely to have children with developing allergies, and possibly less frequent asthma, due to the constant barrage of dander.
Another reason to visit the Humane Society.
One of my old Biology Professors speculated that human eyesight is so mediocre because we would die of fright if we really saw all the nasty little critters in our world.
Which brings us to 17th Century Dutch naturalist and microscopist (an awfully cool title) Anton van Leeuwenhoek - the first person to peer at bodily fluids under a high power microscope.
His initial findings shocked him so badly, he ran scared through his lab, praying. But it was Man’s first realization that there is a scary microscopic world within us waiting for discovery and research.
But outside is even worse. In fact, the three words that scare me most: Rented Bowling Shoes.
Or as I like to call them: “Leather Petri Dishes.”
I’m betting you wash your hands real soon.


(Originally published in part in April 2003)