My Name Is Jasper

Infinite Dreams

Even though it's reached new heights

I rather like the restless nights

It makes me wonder it makes me think

There's more to this I'm on the brink

It's not the fear of what's beyond

It's just that I might not respond

I have an interest almost craving

But would I like to get too far in?

Infinite Dreams – Steve Harris  (84)

What's worse than going into work on a cold winter Monday morning? Going into work on the very cold, very first Monday morning of the year. Even if you have the world's best job, that first Monday after the holiday season is horrible. And today – January 5th 2015 – is fucking cold.

Walking up the stairs to the entrance of the building, I see the on-site gym is unusually full. It's the new year, new me period that makes regular gym goers frustrated with the flooding of their holy ground by waves of new members, who in most cases won't last the full month of January. At lunch I see other familiar symptoms of the same resolution: the salad bar has been plundered, and no one is in line for a burger.

This will go on for a few days I guess. Until people all the sudden realize that these diets and fitness regimes will actually take (too much) effort, and excuses will be made to justify going off the tracks. My excuse for not even being on the tracks is a cold. A stupid, silly, but oh so annoying cold. Well at least I'm not making it up, so I guess it is a valid reason not to go on a diet just yet, nor spend time at the boxing club. I have spent the first 4 days of the new year in a robe, laying on the couch, drinking tea with honey and watching movies. If it hadn't been for the headaches, the sore throat, and what seems to be a never-ending supply of green mucus, it would have been a pretty sweet start to the year. I'm not the only one under the weather. Julie is sharing this experience with me and at work an ongoing symphony of coughs and sneezes is ringing out all over my floor.

The good thing about having a cold is that there is a drink that will make you all better in no-time! Everyone will tell what to drink, only – as it turns out – everyone has their own magical potion. "Just have a Grog and you'll feel better in the morning" "No, what you need is a Hot Toddy" "Actually, have a glass of warm milk with some cinnamon and honey" I suppose its human nature to promote wonder elixirs in all shapes and forms. We've been doing it since the dawn of time. However never at such a scale as during the heydays of the poorly named 'patent medicine' from the late 18th to the early 20th century. No Western movie is complete without some German sounding "Doctor" selling his magical brew. In reality there have been such potions based on herbs and alcohol, but also opiates and even toxic chemicals. All advertised as medicine to treat little problems like coughs, aches of all sorts, and diarrhea, or making claims to calm children, cure tuberculosis or even prevent cancer.

A while ago, in a little town in Ontario, the local drugstore had some sort of elixir on their shelves. The imported cough syrup was told to cure colds. If this wasn't a medicine, the strict Ontario liquor laws would have prevented the sale of this – clearly alcohol based – liquid, outside of the regulated, and highly taxed, liquor stores. Little did they know (in all fairness all the text on the beautiful tin box was in German) that this drink was in fact Underberg, a 44% alcohol Kräuterlikör, or herbal liquor. A fancy Jägermeister one could say. There was one German immigrant family in the town. The drugstore owner must have wondered what had been the cause for the many colds in that family.