as long as you watch your step.
Man, am I ever glad I’m not an influencer.
If I were, I’d feel obligated to opine on Hamas v. Israel; the Rt. Rev. Dr. Mike Johnson (R-Pecksniff), our latest Shaker of the Hose; psycho killers who use gunfire to drown out the voices in their heads; and various Trumps getting hauled, with eyes a-rolling at the sheer injustice of it all, into various courts of law.
But I ain’t. So I won’t.
Besides, my back hurts, because I somehow managed to banjax the bugger on Monday while shoveling out Miss Mia’s litter box and ever since have been lurching around the vicinity like an angry Ent with one root in a cast.
I haven’t even considered riding or running. But I have shuffled out for a few short hikes with my trusty staff and to date have not rendered dysfunctional any other aspects of the organism.
Also, I have not been compelled to endure bombardment, conversion, gunfire, or jurisprudence. Thus, winning, etc.
In other news, we’ve been watching a graphic-novel adaptation on Netflix, the limited series “Bodies,” and I can’t recommend it as a muscle relaxant. More of an irritant, really. But we’re six episodes into the sonofabitch and I want to find out how it ends so I can hate it properly.
Ordinarily I love almost any tale involving time travel. But at the moment all I can think of is going back to 1976 and telling the 22-year-old me not to work the top end of a hand truck while delivering a large refrigerator into an upstairs apartment.
“Dude,” I’d say, “just look at me. I’m all that remains of you. There are ways to get beer money that are easier on the lower back. For starters, weed is gonna be legal here in 2012. You heard it here first. Get busy.”
Mad Blog Media 
Patrick, the marijuana king of Colorado! Wouldn’t that have been a hoot.
Sorry about the back. Mine has behaved itself for 4 years. You know my remedy, heat and 3 days of Aleve.
Our latest binge has been Inspector Lewis on PBS. We stream it using Passport and are trying to get the 8 seasons done by the end of the month when they take them off the site. Before that was the second season of Annika.
I coulda had class! I coulda been a contender; I could’ve been somebody, instead of a bum, which is what I am.
A bum with a bad back. Sigh. I shoulda stuck with selling weed. But I might’ve wound up an inmate with a bad back from stamping out license plates instead of a bush-league blogger with a small, deeply disturbed audience (and thank you all for not fleeing this burning building of bullshit).
I took two Advil on Monday, the day I banjaxed myself — one in the morning, one at night — and since have doctored myself with cautious stretching, sitting at the Mac for short stretches only, and hourlong trail walks.
I’ve considered seeing a chiropractor, but in nine years here my sole experience with a back-cracker was not a good one. Dude wanted to get into the heavy manipulation right out of the gate and I yelped like a gutshot mutt. Lord, do I ever miss my old pal Lori Cohen, Dog rest her soul. Doc always solved the various puzzles I presented.
Here’s hoping that your back ales you less in the morning when you read this. Yep, that’s ales. It’s such a fine word and your mention of the third Norman conquest in your last post subliminally made me write it. “Beer me Sam”.
I’ve seemed to calm down my back flare ups with consistent situps. Strengthening the abdomen seems to assist the back muscles in their function and reduces typical pain that I have.
My late chiro’, Lori Cohen, used to advocate for yoga, saying at the bare minimum it would make her life easier. Some visits it took Doc and the receptionist both to get me situated on the table as I screeched like a turpentined banshee.
Damn backs. Who needs ’em!? When I was 12, my mom noticed I was “resting” on the kitchen floor, flat on my back, and motionless. I was not dead I told her. It was the back. She then replied “Oh, not you too! You inherited that from everybody before you, and it looks like you figured out one possible cure – that being the laying on the hard floor trick.” That is the key to some bit of recovery. While on back, and hard floor, the skeleton supports you and the softer tissues and sinews relax better that way. No pillows, and nothing soft below, or it doesn’t work. When fully recovered, just wait for the next accidental sneeze, quick errant pivotal turn, or deathly scare for the next back problem to pop up, just before you need to do something really important. Of course, the hardest part of this is to be able to get down safely to the floor while in agony, and more so, to then get back up again.
Twelve? Judas Priest. And I thought I got an early start in the bad-back sweepstakes. My sincerest condolences.
I likewise spend some time in the prone position, but I need a thin yoga mat between my spine and the deck. Then I bring the right knee up to the chest, lower it, repeat with the left, and then both at once, trying to pop everything back into place.
I usually do at least three repeats of this and a couple other deals from “Stretching,” by Bob and Jean Anderson, a Palmer Lake couple who for-reals wrote the book on stretching, hence the title of the book, “Stretching,” an’ shit.
The YMCAs in Colorado used to have a poster of the stretches they recommended for before and after resistance training.
And yeah, caution is indicated during recovery. A good jump scare, sneeze, cough, too-quick look over one shoulder while backing out of a parking place, or the cat dashing unexpectedly between your ankles as you carry a cup of coffee to the desk can send you back to square one just like that (snaps fingers).
Meanwhile, I see the lunatic in Maine apparently decided to save the taxpayers the expense of a trial. I wish these people would skip the rampage and get right to the suicide, but I wish a lot of things.
So, that’s one lunatic down and … how many to go?
You don’t wanna know.
Truer words, etc.
Well, shit.
Only pisser about these mass shooter guys shooting themselves is they do it last rather than first.
Me? Had a relapse of Covid and boy, am I pissed as hell at God or whoever allowed this to happen.
Was that the dreaded Paxlovid Rebound? I’ve read about it, but I don’t think I know anyone it’s happened to. That sucks for reals.
Is the rebound worse than round one?
And yeah, memo to all would-be mass shooters: There’s a target of opportunity giving you the stinkeye out of the mirror. Have at him with my compliments.
Yep, the Paxlovid Rebound. Feels like a bad head cold; so far not as bad as Round 1.
Speaking of mass shooting, looks like the IDF is on the move.
Yep. I see they’re not calling it an “invasion” but merely “ground activity,” which sounds like Carl Spackler’s job in “Caddyshack.”
What was Korea? A “police action?” The first Green Berets sent to Vietnam went there as “advisers.” Gotta love all these euphemisms for warfare, a.k.a. blowing shit up and killing people.
I used to have a T-shirt that bore the legend “Eschew Obfuscation,” with each letter in a different typeface. Great for copy editors.