Nosy business

Ib jor doze id stubbed up, dote blow id.

That's the latest, nasally congested word from U.S. health experts who say that nose-blowing can actually be bad for you.

According to a team of scientists headed by Dr. Owen Hendley of the University of Virginia, a vigorous nose-blow can blast infected mucus up into the sinuses, making matters worse for cold sufferers. This is terrible news for people like me who blow our nose so often and so vigorously that it could be considered a form of aerobic exercise. Some people like to jog, some like to ride bikes and some like to swim laps. But to me, nothing says cardiovascular fitness like a roomful of cats and a box of Kleenex.

A good, full-bodied blast through the nose produces the same light- headed rush one gets from running up a flight of stairs, jumping out of an airplane or winning a free Diet Coke in a McDonald's scratch- off contest. Although a nose-blower's high receives scant mention in the medical journals, it is as real as Y2K, Sasquatch or campaign- finance reform, take your pick.

If people stop blowing their nose, it could affect the course of American politics, not to mention the facial-tissue industry. Pat Buchanan, for example, would be incapable of saying the things he says if he did not blow his nose hard and loud, nonstop, 24 hours a day, possibly without taking a breath. Give the man a decongestant and he starts sounding like Ted Kennedy.

Do you think Al Gore really believed he invented the Internet? Heck, no. It was simply a comment born from suddenly -- perhaps too suddenly -- released nasal congestion. The University of Virginia scientists said nose-blowers would be better off coughing or sneezing, which strikes me as an inferior way of dealing with the problem, not to mention a whole lot more unsanitary.

While it is true that veteran nose-blowers like myself collect handkerchiefs the way other people might collect shot glasses or Sno- globes, and that these handkerchiefs sometimes accumulate in damp wads atop dressers, coffee tables and kitchen counters, that does not mean that we nose-blowers are unversed in the rudiments of personal hygiene, nor are we indifferent to the gentle sensibilities of those who are so fortunate to live with us. You can, after all, walk around a damp hanky, which is more than you can say about the germy spume exhaled by sneezers. (In fairness, it should be noted that nose- blowers do, on occasion, sneeze and cough, but only in the most delicate and refined fashion, preferably with a lace hanky covering the nose and mouth and the left pinky extended.)

Nose-blowing is also a good way to alert your employer that you may be calling in sick in the not-too-distant future. Bosses tend to ignore generalized sneezing and coughing, just as they ignore employees who ask for pay raises and health insurance. But an employee who can produce a cubicle-rattling blast like a Cape-Fear foghorn, using nothing but a Kleenex and a few swollen nasal membranes, is an employee who will be finding himself free for golf on a lot of Friday afternoons.

Nose-blowing is, was and always will be an American institution, no matter what a bunch of preachy Virginia doctors have to say about it. Nose-blowing fills in those dull, dialogue-heavy minutes in the movie theaters between the explosions and the car chase. Nose- blowing occupies your hands when the collection plate is passed at church. Nose-blowing lifts your energy levels like a Jolt Cola and a glazed doughnut, but without all the empty calories. I'll bet George Washington was a nose-blower, and that's good enough for me.

David Grimes pens a humor column weekly for the Sarasota (Fla.) Herald-Tribune, a N.Y. Times Publishing regional newspaper.

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