I have been to many chiropractors over the years. The best was Dr. Lowell Cripe, more than 30 years ago. He was a huge bear of a man with the most gentle hands. He would touch your spine with eyes closed, feeling for any out of place vertebrae. Then he would wrap you up and … crack, you were miraculously straightened. He was a true healer. Sadly, he passed away and his partner took over the practice. Dr. B__ wasn’t nearly as good and we moved on.
Chiropractors came and went, some effective, some less so. Several years ago, we found Dr. Bob in Santa Monica. He is also a healer, and big enough to apply sufficient torque to my stiff and reluctant spine to move it. Dr. Bob was struck by lightning a few years ago while on the beach, and initially was pronounced dead. His daughter brought him back to life with CPR, and after several months recuperation, he was back at work. He favors Hawaiian shirts (as do I) and usually can put me back together.
His waiting room has the usual assortment of magazines along with several Gary Larsen books and a few other publications of similarly twisted humor. It makes the short wait go by quickly. Fortunately, I haven’t had to visit Dr. Bob for many months.
The Waiting Room Project 