Siegel called it

Back in October, my good friend Rich Siegel, who writes the not-to-be-missed blog Round Seventeen, did something he's never done before. No, he didn't take the account team to a group lunch. He didn't suggest reducing the broadcast budget so he could do more banner ads. And he didn't start complimenting the British planner with the knit cap for his insights.

What he did was post a movie review of the film The Master. It was a scathing, no-holds-barred, flat out attack as only Rich can write on what he thought was a deplorable film, not to mention a monumental waste of time.

Here's the thing I found out this afternoon: he was right.

Now normally I'd say that one should make up their own mind about about a movie. I've seen many movies that weren't well-reviewed - Meet Joe Black, Signs and Unbreakable come to mind - that wound up being very entertaining. In fact some of them have even shown up in my Guilty Pleasures posts, like the Final Destination series.

Since the Oscars - which mark the official end of nights Hollywood honors its own because no one else will - are rapidly approaching, I usually try to see as many of the nominated films as possible. So I decided to fire up my screener of The Master, and give it a go. After all, I'm a big fan of the two leads, Jacquin Phoenix and Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

Sometimes that's enough.

This time it wasn't.

I would've rather been the terrorists being tortured in Zero Dark Thirty, Lincoln being shot in the head, or Django being beaten than to have had the Les Miserables experience of sitting through The Master.

At least I didn't have to leave the house and it didn't cost me anything.

Except two and a half hours I'll never get back.

How big is that bulge

Sorry about the somewhat provocative headline. My close, personal friend and fellow blogger Rich Siegel over at Round Seventeen always tells me the more suggestive the headline the higher the readership. So be sure and tune in for tomorrow's post: Keeping A Breast Of The Situation.

Anyway, my back went out about three days ago and it hasn't come back yet. Four days ago, I was clearing a path in our garage so the termite guys could come hit a few spots where the little wood-chompers were having their winter buffet.

And not to get too much off track here, but why do all termite and pest companies have those stupid cars: VW beetles (no pun intended) with rat ears and a tail, or giant ants crawling up the side of the car? If they're carrying all that pesticide shouldn't the bugs be gone? Don't get me started.

Where was I? Oh yeah. So at one point, I lifted an extremely heavy box of books, and as I was doing it I immediately knew two things: I was lifting it the wrong way, and I was going to pay for it.

The next day, as I sat down in my big, soft, swallow-you-whole reading chair, I heard a pop in my lower back that could only mean one thing. I'm so screwed.

Since it was a holiday weekend, my chiropractor - the incredible Michelle Zarzana - was closed. I texted and asked if there was any chance she'd be in the office on New Year's Eve day. She wasn't planning on it, but said she'd be glad to come in for me.

The woman's a saint and I'm guessing has a special spot in heaven reserved just for her.

After she worked on my back I felt slightly better. Following her advice, I went home and iced my back the rest of the day. Then, going against her advice, I went to see Les Miserables with the family for New Year's Eve. Can I just tell you how good my back felt after sitting in a theater seat for almost three hours?

I dreamed a dream I hadn't done something that stupid.

On January 1st, we went to our friends house in Topanga for the annual New Year's day brunch, and I was at least able to move around.

Today, I went back to Dr. Zarzana. After working more on my back, and talking about my symptoms and pain, she concluded it's probably a bulging disc (between 1 & 2 or 2 & 3 for those of you keeping count). I asked if I'd need surgery for it, and she said no. But she did say I'd have to work on increasing my core strength, and that I definitely had to lose weight.

I get that a lot.

So now, it seems the impossible has happened. If I don't want the lead in the revival of Sunrise At Campobello (look it up), I'm actually going to have to follow through on my annual resolution to lose weight and get in better shape.

Meanwhile, if things get any worse, I may have to have an MRI and see how bad my disc actually is. Which would be okay.

At least then I could show my bulge to anyone who wanted to see it.