Welcome to The VERB!

The holidays have come and gone. The twinkling lights, the hanging decorations and the towering tree have been packed away--much to the chagrin of our two cats. It's a whole new year, and I thought I'd start mine by taking advantage of a Christmas gift: a professional massage. Ahhh, what a way to spend an hour! 

I've had a few massages before, but they took place in the back bedroom of a woman's house. This was my first visit to a clinic. The therapist lady led me into a dimly-lit room, soft "yoga" music flowing out of the overhead speakers, and turned on the massage table as if it were an electric blanket. The only thing lacking was the soothing trickle of a waterfall. 

First, she rubbed her professional thumbs over every inch of my back, my most troublesome area, and declared me extremely tight. No news there. For years, I've had problems with a stiff painful back, probably due to my bad posture at the desk. She honed in on it, searching for knots and then pausing to press them out of existence. Like the John Mellencamp song says, Hurts so good. Eventually she moved on to my neck, arms, legs and feet, kneading the tension right out of the room. After I finally managed to sit up, dress and walk out, I felt light as a kite. I had one of those V-8 moments: Why do I put up with all this muscle pain, popping ibuprofen left and right, when I can relieve it in such a luxurious manner? And then for the first time in a very long time, I made a New Year's resolution: Back pain, I will nip you in the bud!

So I bought a membership. This is the establishment I visited. They're all over the US. If you suffer from stress, muscle pain, poor posture, bad circulation, etc., and you sometimes don't feel like exercising, I strongly urge you to buy, or better yet, force a member of your family to give you a gift certificate to a local massage therapist. But whatever you do, don't call them a massage "parlor." That's a bad word in their field because it conjures images of red velvet-lined brothels and sexual favors. I can assure you none of that goes on with a therapeutic massage. Your body is always comfortably covered with a sheet, except the part she's working on at the moment, and your favors are never touched.

Know someone who's expecting a future rugrat? Give them a Baby Kake. Our ReadingWriter Bonnie Engstrom's daughter-in-law, Dana McCarthy, designs these precious gifts. They're made of diapers, stuffed with baby products like bibs, onesies, teethers, rattles, outfits, etc., and make sensational shower gifts. Each is custom designed to the specifications of the client, so give it a look-see.

Speaking of design, we are in the midst of creating a virtual Contest plaque to "hang" on websites. It should be ready in time to announce the First Chapter contest winner. But we also thought maybe previous entrants would like to have one. If your work has been recognized in any of our contests, drop me a line with the following info, and I'll send you a personalized plaque (jpeg) for your site.

your name 
title of submission
title of contest
year of contest
rank (Winner or Honorable Mention)

And now, without further ado ... let's turn the page.

Elizabeth Guy
Editor
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This issue 
was published 
under the musical influence of

NEIL DIAMOND
 The Greatest Hits
(1966-1992)