You’re Doing It Wrong

“You’re doing it wrong” is no longer a just a great line from the underrated 1983 John Hughes scripted film Mr. Mom. It has become the tagline of some 5 bazillion e-zine “articles” and YouTube videos. You know the ones: You’re using your oven drawer wrong. You’re storing you’re spices wrong. You’re cooking your eggs wrong. These “experts” have zeroed in on kitchen activities but then food is a fairly universal topic. And to be fair, I have seen s handful of articles telling me about what other things that I am screwing up in my life. You’re washing your car wrong. You’re wearing your seatbelts wrong. You’re cutting your grass wrong. You can find contradictory “expert” opinion on how to best accomplish just about anything. But that I add milk to my eggs before dumping them into a pan because I like my scrambled eggs creamy instead of fluffy is not wrong, just different. Nor is it wrong that someone else prefers water over cream although they are more likely pandering to the YouTube crowd rather than the “that’s a darn good tasting breakfast” crowd. (Please no nasty comments. The world is divided enough.)
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Most activities have multiple means to reach their ends and how you get there is your choice depending on how you prefer to make the trip. None of these articles is wrong on how they present a way to do something. If that were so I’d have titled this “You’re Writing Those ‘You’re Doing It Wrong’ Articles Wrong.” If you are of a like mind with the person who wants to use water in scrambled eggs go right ahead. I’ll still splash some cow juice in mine and not feel at all slighted. But there is one expert process I can’t say presents a viable alternative to how I’ve been doing it for years. That is washing dishes. 
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If you are of an a certain age, one that I passed an age ago, you’ll recall the days when there was but one way to wash dishes. Fill a basin with soap and water, grab a dish cloth, and commence wiping. There might once have been an alternate method but mothers put their collective feet down when they noticed the young’uns headed for the stream to pound the dishes against the rocks while doing the table linens in an early effort to multitask. Otherwise it was soap, water, and elbow grease and not terribly much of the third until you got to the pots and pans.
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I saw the headline, “You’ve been washing your dishes wrong,” and the teaser, “Read this before you wash another dish by hand.” Being the well trained lackey who still routinely washes dishes by hand of course I did just that and read this (er, that) before I did another. What I read changed the way I think about hand washing forever. It won’t change how I do it but I’ll think about it now each time I plunge a scrunge into soapy water.
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Apparently the faux pas is not of the order. It’s still glassware, table ware, serving utensils, eating vessels (plates etc.), cooking utensils, cooking vessels. (Whew!) Nor was it a definitive decision regarding the always controversial “bath v shower” methods of water used. (Double whew!) It was not even if you are better served with grease fighting detergents or scouring pads. No, the way those of us who are still washing our dishes by hand are washing our dishes wrong is that we are still washing our dishes by hand. (Read it a couple of times. It’s a legitimate sentence, really.) (I think.)
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WaterHeaterThe “experts” claim to properly sanitize dishware the wash temperature must be a minimum of 140°F (60°C). Actually that’s not right. “Sanitizing” or the eradication of common kitchen pathogens doesn’t happen until 175°. That’s why modern dishwasher rinse cycles are set to heat the water internally to 180°. Anything less is just “cleaning.” However there are some pathogens killed at 140° so that temperature could be partial sterilization. Most domestic water heaters are capable of heating water to 140°. Why isn’t this good enough for hand washing and get at least part off them sanitized?
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Just how hot is 140° anyway? If you’ve even been in a hot tub or sauna you’ve been in 100° water. (I used to keep mine set to 101° but that was because I liked the way the digital readout looked.) That morning hot shower is around 105°F. An electric blanket maxes out at 115° and a heating pad typically eases your sore muscles with 130-135° heat. Temperatures higher than that aren’t so well tolerated. That 140° we want to wash out dishes in will burn your skin in seconds. Third degree burn. In single digit seconds. Six seconds to be accurate. That is why even though water heaters can heat water to 140° they shouldn’t. The recommend maximum temperature for domestic hot water is 120°F (49°C). At 120° you would suffer those burns after exposing your skin for 5 minutes.  (Don’t think you can split the difference and set that heater for 130°. Third degree burns will happen at 30 seconds of continuous exposure to 130° water.
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That would seem to validate the claim that handwashing is a somewhat futile exercise. Or is it? If you’re goal is complete sanitizing before you set those plates back on the table at the next meal it is indeed futile although no more futile washing in 140° water. And is there really such a thing as more or less futile? Futile is futile, right.
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On the other hand, if you are happy with just for clean like we were so many ages ago, go ahead and use the sink. Trust me. You won’t be doing it wrong.
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The Incredible Shrinking Man

I got on the scale last Friday, like I have almost every day for the past I don’t know how many years, and like it has been for so many of them I read out to myself 154.8 pounds. I then hopped into the shower (ok, I gingerly eased myself over the tub wall and carefully positioned myself under the running water’s spray), shampooed, rinsed, repeated, lathered, rinsed, sang a few verses of He’s So Fine (I was having a feminine moment), then hopped back out (no, I’m not going through that again). And then walked past the scale and couldn’t remember if I had recorded that day’s weight. So I weighed myself again.

No, I’m not obsessed with my body, good or bad it may be or the weight of it. I am, like most people with late stage kidney disease, obsessed with making sure my body isn’t holding onto water unduly. The best way to do this is to weigh oneself and track that weight hoping not to find more than minor daily changes or steady increases over time. Hence the daily recording and the longish explanation I just made you suffer.

Anyway, I weighed myself again. 154.6 pounds. I went to jot that number when I saw I had indeed recorded the earlier figure of 154.8 pounds. Hmm. I was sure I had just weighed myself at that lower number. Because I have always been a bit more than a bit obsessive I decided to again step on the scale. Yep, 154.6. Hmm.

ScaleSaturday morning I went through my routine weigh-in (or weigh-in routine if you prefer) and found myself to be 154.6 pounds. Did the shower stuff, made use of the freshly laundered bath towel (love a soft towel), and glanced down at the scale. Should I? I did. And it read 154.4 pounds.

Skip to Sunday. Before shower, 154.6. After, 154.4. Monday before, 154.8. (Went out for dinner Sunday. Must have been that glass of wine). After, 154.6. Tuesday, the same 0.2 pound difference. What is happening to me? Am I shrinking?

Two-tenths of a pound does not seem like much. Indeed it isn’t. It’s about 3 and 1/2 ounces, around 100 grams. On the other hand, it’s more than just a dribble. It is, to keep my comparisons bathroom related, a bit less than a family size tube of toothpaste, a bit more shampoo than what the TSA will permit you to carry through an airport security checkpoint. Where did those ounces go?

Since I conducted my experiment, non-scientific though it was, over 5 days and came up with the identical data for each day, I am assuming valid results. I wash off two tenths of a pound with every shower. Perhaps I’m rubbing too hard and sloughing off more skin than I can regrow in the time I’m under the water. If I use a luffa instead of a sponge would I weigh even less? Maybe I’m getting too involved with my intra-shower songfest. Would the choice of a shorter song or a less energetic display of air guitar playing (don’t judge me) result in less weight loss? Could the water actually be too hot and I really am shrinking? I’m sure I’ve never been Scotch Guarded and anything is possible.

I don’t know where it’s going but I am definitely lighter on the after side of the morning wash up. I might see if I can commercialize my findings. People are always looking for a no pain weight loss program. What can be more painless than showering? If everybody experiences the same 3+ ounce loss with each shower only 5 showers a day a day makes for more than a pound off every 24 hours. In a week that could be almost 10 pounds. Providing your hot water heater can take the strain.

I’m going to look into this. After all, I have that kind of time.