It’s been a funny summer.
In February I went to LA and pulled out my back. I woke up. I yawned. I stretched. The two kind of overlapped. Then it was, uh oh, here we go.
Kathy had arranged to meet a friend at a burger place at Venice Beach, so we went early and I popped into a Chinese deep tissue massage stall I found on the Ocean Front walk. I’m not sure I’d recommend it (it’s the one near the muscle guys, not the more expensive upstairs place that requires an appointment). I pretty much cried my way through a 20 minute session. The guy actually placed the tip of his elbow between my vertebrae and pushed down on his fist in like he was staking a tent.Read More