This is another one of those long, I-should-have-made-this-a-bunch-of-little-entries-but-I-didn't entries, so be cool. * * * Boy was I sick last week. Not sick with anything that bad, you know, no actual DISEASE or SYNDROME or anything but I had a flu, or a cold that took great pleasure in kicking my ass. It was a tough one. It came on pretty quick, starting like a sore dry top-o-the-throat, next day I was woozy and achy and the sore throat was worse (also: by this time there was still no snot. Obviously, I am not a doctor, but I find snot to be a comforting presence when I have a cold. I take snot as a sign that my immune system is on top of things, TCB). The next day I was full on SICK. Fever, general state of glurbiness, snot factories working overtime. Yuck. It hung around for a few days, I am better now but still not completely well. I reckon I will have this remainder cough-n-snot fun for a few weeks. Yuck. It must really suck to be REALLY sick. Knock wood. * * * Speaking of sick, or maybe just speaking of "not well", I threw my back out something fierce a few months ago. I meant to write about it then, but just never got around to it. It was morning, Erin had just left for work, I had just woken up. I was checking my e-mail, I went to the kitchen, grabbed a cup of mud, went back in and sat down at the computer and my back exploded. Something just went WRONG just to the left of the center of my back. It was blinding. Excruciating. Worst pain ever, by far (Well, ok. That time when I was thirteen and I went to slide off the top bunk and I was on my stomach and ended up squashing, um, the fellers, between my pelvic bone and the side of the bed? That was bad. But if there had been a fire in the room I could have made my way out. This time, with my back, I was so out of my mind with pain that had there been a fire I wouldn't have even know. I was OUT OF COMMISION). At some point I came to, and found the phone, and called Erin. She was very sympathetic, and said I should take some Advil and go to a chiropractor. These things hadn't occurred to me. NOTHING had occurred to me. I was a mess. She said that there was Advil or something in the little basket next to the bed. I realized that I was laying on the bed. The Advil was close. Arms length. I took my time, breathing, steeling my nerve. It took slightly less than five minutes (true) but I made it. I extended my arm and got hold of the Advil and the half bottle of Poland Springs. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Erin said she would look up a chiropractor in the "New York Naturally" free book thingy and call me back in a little while. This was convenient because I was literally passing out from pain, exertion and fear. At some point I called in sick to work. I can only imagine what the message I left sounded like. Ha! I came to/woke up again. I was some better. I could almost breathe. Erin called back with the name and numbers of a couple of chiropractors. I called the closest one and made an appointment for, I think, noon. I made my way out of the house and staggered towards the subway. They were filming Third Watch on our street (which they seem to do pretty regularly), right out in front of the building. Normally I would have dug that, maybe even taken a picture of Bosco or Sully, but I was too freaking out of it. Eventually, I made it into the city, found the office and went in. Having never been to a chiropractor before I was somewhat apprehensive. Not because of a mistrust of the art (I've known lots and lots of strong proponents, and count myself among them now), but because I am a little bit weird about doctors and such. I don't even particularly like to get my hair cut or try on shoes. (Boy, when you read back a sentence you've written like that you think "Just how crazy am I?"). But luckily enough the guy I found, Dr. Dave (Dave is Dr. Dave's name, but I doubt he goes by "Dr. Dave". Erin and I just call him that cause we are, uh, dorks), was great. Obviously I have no other chiropractic experiences to compare him with but he is a cool, nice, comfortable guy. He runs his practice out of his little apartment, and his big old dog Riley barks and snarfles at you when you come in, and then sits in the corner and chews on a bone while you get adjusted, occasionally making noises startlingly similar to the noises that come out of your spine. She's a good dog. Boy. Getting a pretty serious set of adjustments, the first time you have had ANY adjustments, on the day you have been through the worst pain of your life, is a pretty eye-opening experience. Thumbs up. The adjustments made me feel, within 20 minutes, about 75% better. Phew. If you live in New York and are in the market for a Chiropractor I'd recommend Dr. Dave. Contact me and I'll send you his number (he has a website but I can't remember the URL right this second)... * * * Getting married was the best financial move Erin and I have ever made, at least with the current tax code. We are getting a pretty decent return. Pay down some debt and sock away towards a new super fancy camera. Ooh ooh ooh! Very exciting. Still, one has to wonder about how we (the U.S. of A.) are going to pay for that 87 billion dollar plus project over there in Iraq. Not that I think that that was good wasps nest to poke with a stick like we did, but here we are. Speaking of which, at what point do more people start to wonder (600+ U.S. casualties, vastly more Iraqi casualties, many many billions of dollars, international disdain) if it is really worth it? I think clearly the answer to that question, sadly, is now and always "too late to do any good". Erin and I watch the news and take turns saying "What a fucking mess." Speaking of which: have you been paying attention to these 9/11 hearings? Now, I am no fan of Mr. Bush, but I think, realistically, he didn't do any worse than anyone else would have done in his position. Meaning, only, that it is a crap shoot whether anyone, Bush, Gore, Nader or even Clinton would have been able to prevent 9/11. Not saying that they couldn't have, just saying that those wheels were turning and there was a paradigm shift at work that we were simply not ready for. Hell, back then I was pissed off at Clinton regularly about his weird underground CIA stuff— and it seems like he was more or less on the right track. So who knows? And, truthfully, any of those guys, even Nader, probably, would have bombed the crap out of suspected Al-Qaida bases in Afghanistan after that. But I tell you one thing, and, to use the political catchphrase for the 2000's, make no mistake about it: We are not in any way safer with Iraq careening into full on anarchy and an even deeper hatred for America. We are not safer with our troops and equipment constantly and endlessly pushed to their limits. We are not safer with the National Guard bled dry, demoralized and 8,000 miles away. And then there is that 87 billion. I propose we spend 25 billion dollars working with local governments and the UN on dismantling Terrorist cells in Afghanistan and elsewhere, 55 billion on essentially bribing disenfranchised people worldwide with food, sanitation, health care, education and so forth not to hate us quite so much (I am sure that this would work at least as well as bombing the stuffing out of them), 6 billion to implement, essentially, a new WPA (this is nearly 57 times the yearly budget of the NEA currently. 57!), and 1 billion for Erin and I to build a miniature Chrysler Building, 20 or 30 stories high, and a field of giant cement dinosaurs out in the middle of nowhere. Oh, wait. That's right. This money is spent, and much more. We are totally locked in, and there is no way we can get out. Awesome.