Eye of Newt

So last Saturday at dinner, I told a friend that "I never get sick; and I don't even need to knock on wood when I say that." Well, perhaps I should have done at least one knock - just to make sure. Yes, it's true: I'm sick. My eyes are on fire, my head going to burst, my joints ache a bit, and my skin feels considerably more sensitive than usual. It is in times like these that I question whether the superstitions of ages past - and even of the present - merit the skepticism that we give them.

So I'm sick. And I don't think that Airborne really works. I think it's all whooey, actually. I've drunk that stuff like six times since yesterday, and I still feel just as bad, if not worse, than I usually feel during a cold. I would bet that all the extra vitamins just pass straight through the body and are disposed of. Now, if Airborne does nothing, then is one superstitious if he takes it and swears to its efficacy? Are we still in the dark ages where witches brews could cure even the most obscure and deadly of ailments? I think so. I like to think it's all in the mind. The witch (or hag) has been replaced with a grade-school teacher, and the brew comes in a tablet. You don't have to hike to the deep, dark center of the enchanted woods to get it, but you have to tread the equally perilous grounds of Wal-Mart. Maybe I should go find some enchanted woods...