I've worked basically every day since the New Year, having added to the usual crush of my daily work routine, the production and finishing of six new commercials on a very tight timeline.
Yesterday morning we shipped three of the spots and by yesterday afternoon a chest cold had begun to overtake my ox-like constitution. This morning it was even worse.
Uncle Slappy called and I told him I was coming down with something. As usual, he had some salient advice for me.
"Back in the old country," he began, "we knew how to handle the flu."
I didn't remind him that the Spanish Influenza epidemic had wiped out millions world-wide less than a century ago.
"Fill up the bathtub," he continued, "with 100 pounds of ice. Frozen ice. And get in naked up to your neck. Wear only your astrakhan hat on your head and sit buried in ice.
"Then, when you are almost fully submerged in the ice, have your wife bring you a 12-ounce glass. Half lemon juice/half tabasco sauce mixed and served piping hot."
"That sounds awful," I interjected.
"Finally, under each arm--right in your armpits, place two bay-leaves and a two cinnamon sticks.
"Then sit there for an hour or until the ice is fully melted, whichever comes first."
"That will cure my cold?" I asked.
"No," the old man replied, "but you'll forget about it for a while."