The idea is not revolutionary. On the contrary, its opposite – which I write now to oppose – is more rightly considered a novel concept with little more history to commend it than the electric mixer or the hula hoop. Why wash my hands when all that I’ve touched is profoundly my own? Touching the faucet would invite the intrusion of more unpleasantries than it would ward off. But beloved Deputy Postmaster General (nominal, ceremonial honor bestowed by the local post office), what about the door knob that requires your touch for exit, you may inquire? Well, hopefully others who have touched it have washed their hands as propriety would humbly request, leaving me no worse for their lasciviousness. Some may feel inclined to subject their practices to the scrutiny of a question like what if everyone did what you now do? To this sort of ill-conceived self-righteousness I’d respond that if everyone did as I do, the world would be suffuse with the sort of modern solutions for everyday kennel cough that I have made a modest name for myself developing in my home offices in Dubuque, IA. If the question were put to me if I’d rather live in a world without a common if crippling infirmity of house pets and a world where every toilet was flushed, my answer would be clear.
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