Dryshod

There's something comforting about dryness. If you shake hands with someone, you don't want a clammy grip; if you are out walking, you don't want wet socks. I always have a warm, dry grip; I had a boss who had a problem with clamminess. When I was in the army, I remembered the advice of numerous veterans from millennia past and stocked up on foot powder. It was a habit I would never lose, keeping my feet dry.

I remember one afternoon in China, a trip that encompassed Shanghai and regions around. We had a cold day and it rained a lot. Everyone was somewhat wet. Back in the bus, I whipped out a bottle of foot powder and began to methodically dust down and dry my feet and socks. Foot powder is designed to absorb huge amounts of water.

My colleagues watched me with alarm, consternation, or incredulity. Some who thought they knew me well put it down to my usual lack of reasonable behaviour. Some were just amused.

But I was happy. My feet were dry. My socks were drying out. Everyone else was looking at and feeling their own wet feet. I offered some to the Iron Doc. He chuckled in his trademark way and accepted. He asked, "Do you always carry this around with you?" and I told him the story of my army life.

With the usual slightly mocking look, the Amazon took some. In that moment, as she rubbed the stuff in between her toes, I knew that dryness had won again.