Tiniest Creature (the latest addition to John's MySpace page). This is John's recollection of how the ditty came to be:
This song was written in Costa Rica, while Mir and I were in "isolation" on orders of Dr. Rafael Guerra of San José.
The day before seeing him, we had both been devastatingly sick with flu-like symptoms,cough and loss of appetite. We checked ourselves into a very fancy hotel, with plans to recover as much as possible, then catch our flight out of San José early the next morning.When we woke up, Miriam was in quite worse shape than I was at that time, and thought it would be a good idea to visit a doctor before flying, as she had pain in her ears and wasn't sure it would have been a good idea in her condition, what with the pressure and all.
We took a taxi from our opulent gringo hotel in the suburbs right into the diesel fume reeking asshole of San José to go to Clinica Biblia, which the ever wise, helpful and stern Lonely Planet informed us was the best hospital in town. (Probably right underneath a list of the myriad problems affecting Costa Rica's health system and how it's a shame that rich gringos can pay to jump the queue....but I digress.)
After a short wait, an English speaking Doctor came to see us. He examined Mir and asked her questions about where we had been, etc. He was a laid back and jovial guy, and didn't seem too concerned about her health. When I brought up the ahem...elephant in the room about a certain H1N1 virus, AKA"swine flu" AKA "Influenza Porcina," he laughed and said probably not.
After Mir's examination he told her he wanted to do a blood test to make sure she didn't have a bacterial infection. We waited a few minutes (this hospital was really top-notch) and Mir had some blood withdrawn. As we waited for the results, I began to realize that I wasn't quite the example of good health that I thought I was that morning. No matter though, we have a plane to catch and by god, we'll tough it out.
Dr. Guerra came back wearing a surgical mask, and was holding two others in his hands. He sat down behind his desk and motions for us to sit in the two chairs in front of it. He gave us the two masks and said to wear them at all times. He suspects we have swine flu. He recommends- nay, commands us - to stay in San José for another week, and as the quarantine form he's filling out to the Ministerio de Salud can attest, has the authority to back it up.
We are sent on our way in our masks, though we do take them off as we walk through the lobby of our 5 star hotel. We board the elevator with two members of the Venezuelan football team and try not to breathe on them (there was never any news about the Venezuelan soccer team being taken down by Swine Flu, although recently it was discovered the President contracted it. I suspect the people behind the Honduras coup gave it to him). We began our isolation in, well, isolation in the loneliest 5 star hotel room in Costa Rica,with the worst room service.
After a couple days of watching American TV and eating Gallo Pinto from room service, we decided to move somewhere cheaper. At this point, we were feeling much better and going kind of crazy being stuck with nothing to do. We moved to a private room at a "luxury hostel", the kind of which seems to exist only in Costa Rica. We walked around downtown, had breakfast in the market and marveled at all the terrible fashion (well, Mir did. I am not a snob).
I saw some guitars in the window of a pawnshop, and thought that this quarantine would go better with a little music, so I bought one. We went back to the hostel,drank a bottle of wine, sort of watched an Adam Sandler marathon, and "Tiniest Creature" is what came out.It could be about the tiny flu bugs we got; it could be about Mir's recently born nephew, Henry Solomon; or it could just be swine flu induced feverish visions that popped into Mir's head. I don't know, because this song was written by Miriam. Enjoy!
The day before seeing him, we had both been devastatingly sick with flu-like symptoms,cough and loss of appetite. We checked ourselves into a very fancy hotel, with plans to recover as much as possible, then catch our flight out of San José early the next morning.When we woke up, Miriam was in quite worse shape than I was at that time, and thought it would be a good idea to visit a doctor before flying, as she had pain in her ears and wasn't sure it would have been a good idea in her condition, what with the pressure and all.
We took a taxi from our opulent gringo hotel in the suburbs right into the diesel fume reeking asshole of San José to go to Clinica Biblia, which the ever wise, helpful and stern Lonely Planet informed us was the best hospital in town. (Probably right underneath a list of the myriad problems affecting Costa Rica's health system and how it's a shame that rich gringos can pay to jump the queue....but I digress.)
After a short wait, an English speaking Doctor came to see us. He examined Mir and asked her questions about where we had been, etc. He was a laid back and jovial guy, and didn't seem too concerned about her health. When I brought up the ahem...elephant in the room about a certain H1N1 virus, AKA"swine flu" AKA "Influenza Porcina," he laughed and said probably not.
After Mir's examination he told her he wanted to do a blood test to make sure she didn't have a bacterial infection. We waited a few minutes (this hospital was really top-notch) and Mir had some blood withdrawn. As we waited for the results, I began to realize that I wasn't quite the example of good health that I thought I was that morning. No matter though, we have a plane to catch and by god, we'll tough it out.
Dr. Guerra came back wearing a surgical mask, and was holding two others in his hands. He sat down behind his desk and motions for us to sit in the two chairs in front of it. He gave us the two masks and said to wear them at all times. He suspects we have swine flu. He recommends- nay, commands us - to stay in San José for another week, and as the quarantine form he's filling out to the Ministerio de Salud can attest, has the authority to back it up.
We are sent on our way in our masks, though we do take them off as we walk through the lobby of our 5 star hotel. We board the elevator with two members of the Venezuelan football team and try not to breathe on them (there was never any news about the Venezuelan soccer team being taken down by Swine Flu, although recently it was discovered the President contracted it. I suspect the people behind the Honduras coup gave it to him). We began our isolation in, well, isolation in the loneliest 5 star hotel room in Costa Rica,with the worst room service.
After a couple days of watching American TV and eating Gallo Pinto from room service, we decided to move somewhere cheaper. At this point, we were feeling much better and going kind of crazy being stuck with nothing to do. We moved to a private room at a "luxury hostel", the kind of which seems to exist only in Costa Rica. We walked around downtown, had breakfast in the market and marveled at all the terrible fashion (well, Mir did. I am not a snob).
I saw some guitars in the window of a pawnshop, and thought that this quarantine would go better with a little music, so I bought one. We went back to the hostel,drank a bottle of wine, sort of watched an Adam Sandler marathon, and "Tiniest Creature" is what came out.It could be about the tiny flu bugs we got; it could be about Mir's recently born nephew, Henry Solomon; or it could just be swine flu induced feverish visions that popped into Mir's head. I don't know, because this song was written by Miriam. Enjoy!
Wow! This is the best song I've ever heard in my short life - Henry
ReplyDelete