On Getting Cracked

Hello and welcome to Will’s Dumb Brain Action News! Tonight, an interview with Abraham Lincoln’s haberdasher’s great-great-great-grandson who will tell us what the Lanky Lincoln Lawyer was really hiding under that hat. Then, is something in your kitchen opening an interdimensional portal to summon eldritch horrors, the likes of which human kind has never seen before? But first, a word from our sponsors:

*A black and white clip shows me, bending over to pick something up, then grabbing my lower back in pain*

Are you like me? Does your back start to ache at the thought of picking up anything off the floor? Does your morning routine contain dozens of weird stretches specifically designed to elicit those satisfying pops that allow your body to work like a normal human one? Have you tried: complaining, whining, Advil, more complaining, doing yoga once and then pretending it doesn’t work for you? Well then, I may have a solution for you!

Introducing Crack! (Our lawyers have instructed us to inform you that this has nothing to do with the illicit drug, although that would probably help your back pain temporarily while simultaneously ruining the rest of your life) Crack, also known as Going to the Chiropractor, is a wonderful (painful), perfect (horrible) experience that is right for everyone (disclaimer: chiropractic work is not for everyone).

As someone who first hurt their back in high school, (and then proceeded to absolutely destroy it with the attentiveness and thoroughness of a seasoned serial killer) I tried everything to fix it…especially complaining (to be fair, I still do this regularly, after all practice makes perfect). From ice packs to stretching to prescribed muscle relaxers, nothing helped! Until finally my parents convinced me to go see their chiropractor. That’s when everything in my life changed (disclaimer: actually, my back just got a little better… but sometimes that’s enough).

If you’ve never been to a good chiropractor, let me describe what it’s like. Imagine there is a person who loves you. They love you so much that all they want in the world is to make you happy and healthy and comfortable. Except maybe you backed into their car that day, then you dropped their wallet down a storm drain, then you spilled ketchup and mustard all over their favorite white shirt. So, needless to say, they’re super fucking mad at you.

Now, that person is going to give you a massage. It’s going to hurt so bad it makes you want to cry at some points…but also, it’s good? Like it feels right, like it’s actually helping, despite fact that they seem to have found the single most sensitive nerve on your back that simply looking at makes your entire body want to self-destruct.

And then…it’s over. And you feel weirdly better. So, you go back again in a few weeks and you feel a little better each time. And that’s why you should Get Cracking! (consult your doctor before getting cracked, or really any kind of thing like this. Also make sure you get a good chiropractor, I bet a bad one could mess you up man.)

And now back to our regularly scheduled program: So, the thing about Lincoln’s hat was that it was actually much bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside and inside it he carried a dozen, fully cooked—

So, what about you? Any experience with chiropractors or things that help with back pain?