The Narrow Way: Part Three
or
following the path as it leads toward the darkness in the north
My shoulder has become errant, somewhat dislocated, fallen slightly from the Grace of its rightful place at my side. My left side, for those at home playing along. And yes I saw my chiropractor, who again said something that made me think he didn't recognize me (this time it was, You've been here before, right?). Ah, the personal touch that invites my perspicacious, possibly-autistic nature to thrive!
Dopey memory lapses aside, he was in good form. Banterish, convivial, and present enough to adjust me well. Except. While it is true that, to his credit, he adjusted my spine well, especially C3 and C2 which, goddamn did I need that, I remain unconvinced that he addressed the true heart of the matter with my shoulder.
For one thing, he was banterish and convivial while he was adjusting my shoulder. Not banterish with me, mind you, but with the other two Chatty Cathys in the room. Who in fairness, I want you to know, were likable guys both.
And three guesses why I wasn't bantering with my chiropractor while he was adjusting my shoulder. That's right: it's Sabitathica's New Golden Rule ~ Part the Second:
It's impolite to distract someone while they're doing something they're good at.
And lest we be made to face accusations of partisanship, or suffer charges that we've let my good-natured chiropractor off the hook too goddamn easy, let us acknowledge that Sabitathica's New Golden Rule ~ Part the First applies in this situation as well, to wit:
It's impolite to allow someone to distract you while you're doing what you're good at, though the distracter probably won't see it that way.
Either the Chatty Cathys should have shut the fuck up, or my chiropractor should have told the Chatty Cathys to shut the fuck up. Neither happened, and we all lose. Especially my shoulder. Attention is to an individual what cash flow is to a business. A scarce enough resource without allowing it to slip through our fingers or be onanistically dissipated.
But the real reason I remain unconvinced is that my shoulder still aches, which I guess pretty much settles the question, and not all the Golden Rules in the world are gonna help me there.
Now playing: Rehearsals for Retirement, the Phil Ochs song, but sung now-today by Mark Eitzel, the formerly-miserable singer/songwriter for the American Music Club.
following the path as it leads toward the darkness in the north
My shoulder has become errant, somewhat dislocated, fallen slightly from the Grace of its rightful place at my side. My left side, for those at home playing along. And yes I saw my chiropractor, who again said something that made me think he didn't recognize me (this time it was, You've been here before, right?). Ah, the personal touch that invites my perspicacious, possibly-autistic nature to thrive!
Dopey memory lapses aside, he was in good form. Banterish, convivial, and present enough to adjust me well. Except. While it is true that, to his credit, he adjusted my spine well, especially C3 and C2 which, goddamn did I need that, I remain unconvinced that he addressed the true heart of the matter with my shoulder.
For one thing, he was banterish and convivial while he was adjusting my shoulder. Not banterish with me, mind you, but with the other two Chatty Cathys in the room. Who in fairness, I want you to know, were likable guys both.
And three guesses why I wasn't bantering with my chiropractor while he was adjusting my shoulder. That's right: it's Sabitathica's New Golden Rule ~ Part the Second:
It's impolite to distract someone while they're doing something they're good at.
And lest we be made to face accusations of partisanship, or suffer charges that we've let my good-natured chiropractor off the hook too goddamn easy, let us acknowledge that Sabitathica's New Golden Rule ~ Part the First applies in this situation as well, to wit:
It's impolite to allow someone to distract you while you're doing what you're good at, though the distracter probably won't see it that way.
Either the Chatty Cathys should have shut the fuck up, or my chiropractor should have told the Chatty Cathys to shut the fuck up. Neither happened, and we all lose. Especially my shoulder. Attention is to an individual what cash flow is to a business. A scarce enough resource without allowing it to slip through our fingers or be onanistically dissipated.
But the real reason I remain unconvinced is that my shoulder still aches, which I guess pretty much settles the question, and not all the Golden Rules in the world are gonna help me there.
Now playing: Rehearsals for Retirement, the Phil Ochs song, but sung now-today by Mark Eitzel, the formerly-miserable singer/songwriter for the American Music Club.
