I have spent the last four days flat on my back, said part of my anatomy having decided to throw itself out. My back has been giving me trouble since I was fifteen years old; when it acts up, I tend to list to one side, sidle like a crab, and fall down with great regularity -- but only when I'm able to stand at all, which is seldom and only with two canes propping me up. Sometimes my muscles seize up and others the problem is with the spine itself (stenosis, arthritis, a fractured disk, and the tendency for the nerves within the spinal column to adhere to the inner walls of the spine). No matter what the cause, it's never pretty so I treat my back kindly. No matter how kindly I treat my back, sometimes it just spits back out of pure meanness.
Anyway, in honor of my dorsal region, here's Lowell Fulson.