This week I got my second massage in the past couple months. I signed up for a monthly massage package and realized that I had gotten charged for March but hadn’t booked an appointment to get tenderized for an hour. I called and scheduled a late morning massage and figured I’d head into work after it was complete. Big mistake. A word to the wise for anyone considering getting a massage: don’t book one if you can’t shower afterwards. I had showered before going to bed and felt pretty clean going into the massage, but that changed after one hour and roughly 3 gallons of slippery...

Or, as Sir Mix-a-lot would say, “My chir-o-prac-tor don’t want none unless he cracks bones, hon!” And to Nathan, my Magnolia Seattle chiropractor, I’m probably the Mack Daddy or Swass of patients. (I’ll devote a later post, tentatively titled “An Ode to My Chiropractor,” to my good sport of a chiro.) You see, I visit a chiropractor and a physical therapist for various maladies, and both of them have pretty harsh things to say about my neck and back. In their words, working on my back is like “pressing down on concrete.” While a healthy back, muscles...