Getting Rid of Cooties the Hokey Pokey Way
One of the unfortunate truths of the universe is that we don't always get to deal with nice people. Some people are selfish, nasty, or simply have no empathy. When you are forced to deal with people like this-maybe it's your boss who is toxic, or an in-law, or a repeat customer-it can feel like you get doused with cooties after each interchange and there is nothing you can do to get rid of them.
That's why I developed the Hokey Pokey method of ridding myself of cooties.
Several years ago, when I was forced into frequent contact with a toxic source (someone I had to be polite to) I'd find myself trudging home, feeling edgy and depressed. I had felt fine before Ms. Toxic Waste stepped into my path, so I started to wonder...how could I cleanse myself and find my way back to normal? I figured movement would be good, maybe a dance with lots of big gestures. Singing or yelling would help shake off the cooties, too.
That's when it came to me: I needed the Hokey Pokey. But not just any Hokey Pokey. I needed a really good version. An hour or so spent listening to sound clips on Amazon.com (you might be surprised to find out how many versions there are) led me to pay dirt: Brave Combo's headbanger version of the Hokey Pokey. You can find this song on their Group Dance Epidemic CD. The spastic gestures invited by this version formed the perfect ritual.
After that, I started evaluating toxic interchanges by how many repetitions of the Hokey Pokey it would take to remove the cooties. Two to three would be the average. Eight to nine is worrisome. And when you need 30, you know you are in the presence of evil.
(Okay, I never really do the Hokey Pokey 30 times, but that's how the rating system works.)
Today I needed the hokey pokey after a visit to the dermatologist. I had to see her for a mysterious rash that UCSF wanted identified before surgery. I'd never been to Dr. No Empathy before, so I wasn't prepared. She came in, examined my rash, said it might be Shingles (oh my!) or might not, but that she'd treat me for it anyway. Given that I'm in the middle of the whole cancer thing, I was concerned about taking medicine for something else that may not be a problem. She rolled her eyes and gave me a form for a blood test. I asked how long it took to get results and she snapped, "I don't know! Maybe a week."
It was clear to me that I wasting time she could be spending injecting Botox into the lips of Walnut Creek socialites or flaying a layer of skin off someone's face. However, I needed to ask another question. I was concerned about the fact that I was about to go into surgery and I usually get (bad) contact dermatitis from medical tape. So I asked her if I could ask another question. She looked at me coldly, sighed, and said, "Tell me what it's about and I'll let you know if I'll answer it."
Well, excuse me for taking up your time!
Time to start up the CD player...she's good for at least a few Hokey Pokeys.
You put your head in,
You put your head out,
Put your head in,
And bang it all about.
Do the Hokey Pokey
And turn yourself around.
That's what it's all about.
Now put your tongue in,
And your tongue out,
Tongue in,
And Blblblblbl!
You do the Hokey Pokey
Turn yourself around
That's what it's all about.
Lyrics by Brave Combo.
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