The recline of western civilization

Who says there are no surprises left? I can't even believe I'm saying this, but I want one.

First of all, it's a chair that's named after me: La-Z-Boy. BAM! Thanks, I'll be here all week. Tip your waitress.

Actually here's what happened. My mother-in-law desperately wanted a recliner so she could fall asleep comfortably while watching either golf or Wheel of Fortune. In a completely unselfish act of kindness and a blatant attempt to score marriage points, I told her I'd be happy to take her recliner shopping. I promptly proceeded to put it off for weeks, but we finally went this past weekend.

I'll swear I heard the angel's choir as I opened the showroom door.

Entering the store was like walking into a room filled with clouds I could just float away on. Seriously, I must've tried at least fifteen more chairs than she did. Granted she's 92-years old, but I don't know how you can resist those chairs.

And just so you know, these aren't your father's recliners. They have power everything. They're heated. They give you a relaxing massage. And that's just the salesperson! (You've been a great crowd...)

My mother-in-law finally landed on a nice burgundy number that'll look just swell in her room. So basically she's about 6-8 weeks out from me visiting her a lot more often.

In a conversation with the wife I casually brought up the idea of getting a recliner. She casually brought up the idea of me getting a second wife.

So for now, I'll just have to be content to fall asleep in our comfy reading chairs, neither of which have a footrest or recline. But don't worry. I have a choose-the-lesser-evil strategy to get what I want, and I'll be taking a second run at the wife soon.

I don't want to give everything away here, but let's just say it involves the word "minivan".

Back story

This isn't the first post I've written about my aching back. I wrote this one last time it went out on me this bad.

Well, it's happened again and I don't know why. God knows I haven't been doing any physical labor (the only thing Jews know how to lift is the Yellow Pages). But for almost a month now, I've been in excruciating pain when I make certain movements.

Like standing. Or walking. Lying down. And sitting.

Not a good situation anytime, but especially bad since I've been freelancing for a month. It involves a lot of chair time, and twisting around to talk to people. Which is fine, except for the Game Of Thrones sword that pierces my back every time I make a move in that chair.

I've always been one to try to ride things like this out, but about a week ago I came to the pain-ridden decision that enough was enough. The ride was over.

I've now been to my chiropractor five times in the last eight days. Each time I go, they do a whole bunch of stuff to me: cold laser therapy, massage, some device that sounds like a jack-hammer to break up adhesions. There may also be ritual dancing and war paint involved, but I'm face down on the table so I can't say for sure.

Anyway,I usually feel a little better when I leave, but it's a one-step-up-two-step-back situation. By the time I get home, it starts to hurt again. I have two gel ice packs like the one you see here, and I alternate them so my lower back is constantly frozen.

The cautiously optimistic news is my back was a lot less swollen tonight, and it actually feels better than it has for awhile. So I'll stay the course as long as it keeps improving, and hope that soon it'll be back to normal.

By the way, Back To Normal was my second choice for the title of this post.