I have fairly bad scoliosis. That is not a form of bad breath; it’s when your backbone is curved rather than the normal straight. As an over-achiever, my backbone not only swerves in an S shape, it also spirals slightly. That means two things: 1) the figure from classic literature I most closely resemble is not Heathcliff, but Quasimodo and 2) my neck and shoulder often hurt. It’s why trips to the Kabuki spa for massages and my genius chiropractor Greg Gorman show up in this blog so much.
It’s also why our trips to Walgreens lately have included me being totally enthralled by a Shiatsu Massage Cushion they’ve been demonstrating. I was initially skeptical, but once I shoved the old lady who was hogging it out of the way and tired it for myself, I was sold.
It’s a cushion that sits in an office chair and has a pair of revolving roller balls that move up and down pummeling your back muscles into beautiful submission. I announced several times to R Man “I’m going to buy this,” which meant he should buy it for me, but since he never fell for it, I finally sprang for it myself and got one yesterday.
I’m using it right now as I type this; truly, it has improved my life. For the last half hour, I’ve been making moaning noises one normally doesn’t hear outside the backrooms of certain bars that don’t invite ladies.
The only drawback is that I’m so tall, the area the cushion considers my whole back misses by a couple of inches on each end, so I have to readjust myself occasionally to allow it to hit those spots it would otherwise miss. It’s small price to pay for robotic ecstasy. I may be in love.
I have none of these muscles.