Happy 2007 and "God Bless You!"

Happy 2007 and "God Bless You!"

There -- I've said it. And if I may, I'd like to extend my One holy benediction into the entire year. Let's just call it my "God Bless You" of 2007. It will be omnipresent and will descend on you from on high every time you sneeze, though I may be far away.

And, if I may, I'd like to recognize my own "God Bless You" as a "God Bless Me" for all of my own future sneezes and therefore opt out of receiving the obligatory chorus of blessings from co-workers. I'm really doing everyone around me a favor in not having to take action every time I sneeze. I mean, my colleagues at work are busy; deep in thought carrying out their assignments and what right do I have to ask them to not only recognize every single sneeze I let out, but pronounce a blessing on me?

Now, I'm not one of those chronic sneezers who let one loose every time a butterfly lands on a flower in Africa. I don't sneeze any more than anyone else, and this is no more a malady for me than the average breather. But I do feel a sense of duty to those who would like to ignore our neighbor's sneeze and throw off the chains of guilt and repression. Enough is enough. Private sneezers of the world unite! Come out of the anti-sneezers closet and make yourself part of the movement.

Why don't we all burst into some type of chant for other bodily functions, like coughing or nose-blowing? Actually, I guess we do have a ritual for the burp. We nearly always comment negatively on a belch, don't we? Yet, is not the potentially sickly sneeze all the more dangerous than a burp? The sneeze is gushing out zillions of ripe germs into a shared molecule mushroom cloud, while with the burp is not only benign, but gives us and those around us a nostalgic revisiting of a good meal. "Mmm, garlic for lunch, eh?" But for some reason, the contagious sneeze not only does not elicit negative comments from the masses, but receives a heartfelt wish for a healthy life. A blessing. And the wisher always has a surprised look on their face like you've just exploded into the first sneeze they've ever beheld in their life and you're genuinely lucky to have survived it. "God Bless You! Oh, boy!"

I'm not sure of the origin of my sternutation stance. It may be due to my somewhat reclusive personality and how I don't like anyone to really notice anything I do, let alone a sudden outburst that has me roaring like a lion in the cereal aisle. One second I'm humming while searching for the generic Cinnamon Toast Crunch and the next has me bent over with the muscles in my abdomen, chest, diaphragm and vocal cords contracting like I'm possessed. Then, following the exodus of the tiny (and some not so tiny) particles at 100 miles per hour, I just want to move on with my life and forget it ever happened. But there's invariably someone there to pay attention to all that and then feel the need to comment on it.

And then comes the violently enforced "Thank You" for the blessing.

After humiliating myself in an obnoxious manner and wanting to sink into whatever I'm sitting on, I have to then thank the people that just blessed me. But I'm never thankful, that's the problem. Not only do I not feel grateful to them, but I'm annoyed at their noticing my sneeze and feeling the need to direct some attention to it.

At a past job, I worked in a room with about 15 people, all hidden in their own cubicles. Upon sneezing, someone would instantly hear the joyous refrain of "God Bless You!" from behind each false wall unit. People walking by would stick their head in "God Bless You!" My co-worker, sitting next to me was a self-professed pagan. Strangely, she never missed the post-sneeze opportunity to bless me in the name of the Lord. A blessing from people who aren't God or his direct representatives is bad enough, but from someone who doesn't believe in a single God? Would it be "Gods Bless You"? Or "The lichen and the moss send their regards"? I guess it should have been. But then, I was always forced to thank her and I nearly always had to leave the room to regain my composure.

I don't pretend to be God. Why should I pretend to have the power and authority to bless anyone who sneezes? How do I know they're worthy? After each sneeze, should I invite them into my cubicle, conduct an honest interview with them, and after finding them worthy, sanctify them? What happens if they're not worthy? Talk about an awkward situation... I'd probably just mumble an "I'm sorry" and ask them to retreat without a blessing. Maybe next sneeze.

For the most part, I don't have a minute-to-minute interest in someone's health. I'm trying to work and get my job done. When someone sneezes, I (the old me) would mumble "bless you..." just to appease the sneeze police and try to avert the stinkeye from those who realize I had the nerve not to say anything afterwards. You see, I just don't want to have to say it anymore, and I'm sick of being guilty when I don't.

The scenario I dread most is the multiple sneeze. How many consecutive sneezes do we need to acknowledge? Unfortunately, the going rate seems to be every last sneeze. Even those who support the sneeze response seem to waver after three or four, but they keep up without fail. It's like following someone through multiple doors - do you have to say "Thanks" for each one? Should they answer you back with a "You're welcome" or "Sure" for every single door?

And what about the ear-shatterers who seem to dredge up sneeze volume from ancient mythology? A quiet room can be thrown into absolute, instantaneous cacophony for a split second with a sneeze, like the person is being burned alive. Then a few sniffles and the ritual "blessings" begin. I always laughed at the "squeak" women but I've really come to admire them. They have the decency to maintain order in a public space.

At the beginning of 2008 I may say another one. I may even Web cast it so that sneezers all around the world can partake of my blessing. But for this year, I'm unburdening myself of having to say it every time and I declare my 2007 "God Bless You" to be effective for everyone, everywhere throughout the year. And to those of you of the "Gesundheit" and "Salute" schools - this message is for you, too. When I sneeze, be assured that my soul isn't escaping my body, my essence isn't issuing forth out of my mouth and my heart hasn't stopped. I'm just fine. Just wash your hands as soon as you can and let's all get back to work.