Pain in the neck
The last couple of days, my neck’s been bothering me. It’s an old observation, how you can’t swing a dead cat in this town without hitting a massage therapist (tarot card reader, web designer, former high-tech worker).
I thought about it, trying to remember which massage therapist I should call in a favor from, and then I realized there was a new one to try: right here in the trailer park. Capricorn, too, with a Virgo roommate. “Hey, look who’s on our floor, it’s that astrology boy,” the Virgo said, minutes later. “Look, can you come to my office?” No, not really. “How about you meet me at ‘Casa de Luz’ at 11? I’ve got to go meet a client now.” I could turn my neck half way around to answer her by then, so it was a deal.
I’ve been meaning to take in Austin’s macrobiotic restaurant [preschool and yoga center plus offices for at least one chiropractor> just never quite got around to it. I mean, it’s virtually in the same block as Green Mesquite and the original Chuy’s, so it’s not like it’s ever been much of an option, something never really seemed that appealing about no additives, no diary, no refined flour or salt, none of the good and nasty stuff I like so much. Made me wonder if there would be any flavor at all, or if I would just be munching on something that tasted like lawn clippings.
Don’t misunderstand my intentions, one of my favorite afternoon treats is Jo’s ‘vegan oatcakes’. Good stuff. As far as my tastes in culinary treats, my dietary requirement certainly goes both ways, or runs the gamut, from red meat [barely singed or slow cooked>, to just about anything deep-fried then dipped in ranch dressing, to vegetarian, to vegan. Equal opportunity dining.
First was the massage. While we sat in one of the pavilions, I got my neck worked on some more. This Capricorn, while she had a slight penchant for pain, she was a lot more gentle than the last Capricorn. It was like I was back at the Chemical Brothers show, all the lights going off as she pushed some pressure point in my neck. “Breathe in, breathe out,” I kept telling myself.
The Confederate Jasmine in the garden laced the air with a spring-like sense, the green, tastefully [Zen-like> appointed garden was calming, and the hibiscus [something else I couldn’t spell, pronounce or identify> tea had some “alkaline” content.
I bought her some lunch at the restaurant’s open dining room. Started with a soup that I filled up with bean sprouts. Not bad, but what did I expect? Anything a cut above lawn clipping would’ve been fine. And by that time, my neck was almost working right.
“Kramer showed up on the trailer’s doorstep this morning, looking like a wet kitten, ‘Can you fix my neck?'”
Many wet kittens will resent that crack – I looked like a hunchback.
The main course was green leaf things, salad, dressing, rice, beans, and an enchilada of some underdetermined origin, “Tastes like chicken,” I gamely suggested. “Oh no – it’s all vegan.” I knew that.
My carnivorous friends would be shocked. The cat would not be pleased with leftovers, had there been any. I found the food to be delicious, if somewhat strange in taste as there weren’t a lot of the usual elements.
Shoot, I’d go back, just for the food. I’m just glad my neck’s like, 100% better. I don’t think I’ll suggest it to Bubba though, I’m not sure he’d like the food. But that “Casa de Luz” macrobiotic stuff was downright tasty, in a bean sprout way. Works for me.
Even though the moon was almost full in Libra, it was/is a Capricorn day: up to Dallas for Jimmy Buffett (Cap), neck-saving massage (Cap).
