Feeting Frenzy

I am old.

Officially.

How do I know that?

Well let me give you a couple of examples.

A few months ago my kids and I went to Einstein Bagels.

I had a coupon for a free “Chocolate Covered Strawberry Latte.”

I took one sip and threw it in the trash.

Really.

It was too sweet.

TOO SWEET?

When did that happen to me?

Exhibit B.

I won my first fantasy baseball league in 1990 thanks to Doug Drabek and his 22 wins for the Pittsburgh Pirates.

Two weeks ago his 22-year old son, Kyle, made his Major League Debut.

Doug Drabek has a 22-year old son?

Wow, I am old.

Example 3.

One of my best friends in the world is visiting me this weekend in New York with his wife.

We had a blast today, walking the entire city, doing a little window shopping.

It was perfect.

When the day came to an end, we went to go grab a bite to eat in the Little Italy/Chinatown area.

Now back in the day, the first stop after dinner would have been a club.

Or a pub.

Or a karaoke bar.

Um, not anymore.

On our way back from dinner, where oh by the way, we got wasted on diet soda and tap water, we stopped for.......

a Chinese foot massage.

A foot massage!

A FOOT MASSAGE?

Your honor, I rest my case.

I am officially old.

For $30, we each spent the next hour somewhere between heaven and hell.

We were informed that there are 365 pressure points in the human body, “one for every day of the year.”

We were also told that 200 and something are in the feet.

I don’t know the exact number, but I felt them all.

And these were some pros doing the work too.

They didn’t speak much English, but Tony, David and Hansen let their fingers do the talking.

I wonder if those were their real names?

Who cares.

David was a doctor back in China, so he knew what he was doing and the other guys were following his lead.

It took about.... 1-2-3.... three seconds to feel the pain.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had a foot massage before -- and I had not -- but let me tell you, it was awesome.

Did I say awesome, I meant awful.

Did I say awful, I meant incredible.

One second, my body was shaking.  

The next second, I was crying.   

The next second, my friend and I were laughing.

Uncontrollably.

Thanks to the unreal pain we were both feeling... and loving.

Our feet were getting more relief than the Yankees bullpen.

I’ve had many a massage before.   

Good ones, bad ones, hard ones, weak ones.

But a foot massage by someone who could clearly break my foot with one finger.

Never.

At one point, Dr. David was beating on my friend’s foot so hard, it looked more like a sparring session than a massage.

My guy, Hansen, was not nearly as experienced, but he was just as strong.

He kept a close eye on Dr. David to see what move was next.

When I heard my friend in a full giggle-scream mode, I pulled a Meg Ryan and asked for what he was having.

Bad move!

Or good move!

I’m not sure.

The pain he brought on was so excruciating and so fantastic and so painful and so relaxing.  


All at the same time.

I don’t know if I loved it or hated it, but I can’t wait to go back.

Literally around the block, there were hundreds of people at dozens of bars spending way more than $30 to lower their blood pressure.

But there is no way their Red Bull and whatever could match what we were feeling.

For this old man, my drink of choice was a foot rub.

Like any good massage, it came with a happy ending.

And that happy ending was, the ending.

Sixty minutes in, after moving from the feet to the shoulders and arms, the alarm went off and he stopped.

Finally.

I’ve never been so happy.

I think.

It took me about three minutes to wake up from the daze and catch my breath and when I did, I felt like a new person.

Still an old person, but with new circulation.