As part of my personal code of survival, I never read any of the notices, advertisements or handbills which typically paper the elevator cars here at The Mighty Day.

Not because I’m too cool to peruse such things, but because I’m always afraid I’ll run across a Help Wanted posting for MY job.

However, I did spy an interesting poster in the elevator yesterday. I’m sure it’s been up there for months, but ... It’s a public health notice about How Not To Get The Flu Or A Cold Considering We’re All In This Workplace Together.

There followed a series of bullet point suggestions to help achieve well-being. The first one blew my mind because it was something that had never occurred to me. Here it is:

AVOID CLOSE CONTACT WITH PEOPLE WHO ARE SICK.

Really? Are you stinkin’ kidding me?!

DAMN! That makes so much sense — and I’d missed it all along.

Let me wrap my brain around this. I ... shouldn’t touch sick folks?

Well,  this flies directly in the face of some of my ingrained rituals.

For one, every morning I head to the neighborhood Leper Colony and slow dance with the patients.

Guess I’d better stop that.

Another thing I’ve been doing is snorting lines of anthrax spores off the naked bellies of folks in the throes of malarial fever.

Who knew that could be dangerous?

What does any of this have to do with music?

Well, not much.

Nothing, in fact.

But you wanna hear some truly sick piano?

I’ve been listening all day to this version of "St. James Infirmary" by James Booker. (It wasn’t Booker’s infirmary — which would have devilishly tied into the admittedly weak "sick" pun — although it’s true Booker died in the corridor of Charity Hospital in New Orleans waiting to be seen by a doctor … )

Anyway, don’t worry about the cut-and-paste video components. Just listen to the music. Let me know what you think. Booker was a god.