A matter of inches
Me: (seeing a pic of the Firecracker) You were so young back then!
Her: Yup – now look at me. I’m with a very old Chinese man.
Me: Well, I wouldn’t say very old.
Her: Right. Because you’re not doing back exercises eight times a day and buying orthopedic butt supports?
Me: …
Her: Yeah…
The Firecracker was kind enough to surprise me with a back brace the other day for my crap back.
Gone from rolling around and fighting 20-somethings to sitting in cushioned chairs wherever I go and wearing a back brace.
On that note, I’ve also started seeing a chiropractor to add to my stable of doctors, physical therapists, and general clinicians.
Oddly, the first thing I thought of when I got the brace was the presidency and both Trump and JFK.
The assassin that missed Trump missed ending his life by perhaps an inch in several directions.
Between when the gunman pulled the trigger and when the bullet hit, enough time had passed that Trump shifted his head just enough to be merely grazed.
Contrast that with JFK, who was killed on the killer’s second bullet.
This is meaningful because the first bullet shoulda caused JFK to fall forward, as it did his companion John Connally, but it didn’t.
Because JFK was wearing a back brace due to his own major back issues.
A back brace changed the world.
Always find it so interesting that so much of life for the world writ large hinges on these rando choices we all make.
Then again, I should probably think longer about some of the choices I make.
Her: (cleaning and dancing about when I enter the room) How are you feeling?
Me: Eh, ok, I guess. (pausing) What are you doing?
Her: My sexy cleaning dance.
Me: Oh, when’s it gonna start?
Her: God, you’re so rude!
I should probably think longer about some of the choices I make.
Location: home at a hot pot get-together
Mood: ache-y still
Music: Woo hoo just a little bit of c’mon bring that back (Spotify)
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