Chiromaniac

Today I have to trek out to East Amherst to go to the chiro. That always gives me a boost because East Amherst makes me laugh -- it's such a silly suburb -- and the chiro, I have to be honest, makes me laugh too.

This is no ordinary chiropractor I go to. They have this new form of chiropractice -- that has to be the word, right? -- called NUCCA, which stands for something only I don't know what. Google it, if you have to know. All's I know, as folks say here in Buffalo, is that they don't crack your back, they just adjust little things in your neck.

Howard started doing this NUCCA stuff about 10 years ago and it solved problems in his shoulders. I went because I noticed in my Pilates classes that one of my legs was longer than my other leg. This could not be! I have to be perfect!

So I found this chiro. She just about wept with joy when she found I was in there for such a silly little problem. I guess normally people don't go to the chiro unless they have been in a big accident and/or they are completely falling apart. Chiros, I have since learned, love the idea of you being there for no reason, or next to no reason. That way they can just maintain you.

She had me lie down on this board. That's how she always puts it: "I'll have you lie down..."

Then: "I'll have you turn your head to the left..."

Then she pushed a few things around behind my ear. This is always the part of the appointment I find tough, because I always want to giggle. It's just so silly.

"I'll have you sit up now," the chiro said.

"What about my legs?" I said. "I thought you were going to fix it so they are the same length."

The chiro said that my legs might take a couple of hours to adjust. Then she had me sit in a little room with George Winston playing and a fish tank and a book by Anna Quindlen lying on this little table, which, I can't stand Anna Quindlen, but I read it anyway because it was part of the experience. I don't remember a word of it and I am glad. Anna Quindlen is so gloomy and she is always writing about death.

Two hours after that adjustment, back in the office, I was so curious about the progress my legs were making that I couldn't stand it any more. I got up from my desk, went over to the file cabinets and sat down on the floor. I stretched my legs out.

Everyone started coming over to see if I was OK. "Don't mind me," I said.

Guess what? My legs were the same length!

That hocus-pocus worked!

So I have stuck with the chiro. I got a kick out of her holistic approach. When I went to California to write about Leonard Pennario she sent me a sweet card saying, "Congratulations on this wonderful opportunity."

Unfortunately what with being in California with Pennario and then running back and forth between here and there, and then Pennario dying, I dropped the ball with the chiro and now my legs are out of whack again. Along with the rest of me!

Well, a few minutes in that room with the New Age music and the fish tank should take care of that.

This time I think I'll skip the Quindlen.