http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/23/business/23carle.html

Oops.

This reminds me of the time I paid a Carle quack a thousand dollars to inspect some pain in my ... reproduction area.

He obsessed on my bartending, and kept pestering me about how many women, how many women?!?!? before pumping my full of antibiotics.

I went to a U of I trainer -- who was more interested in my regular running habits. He bent me over a table, rubbed out the knot out of my lower back, and advised me to do some extra stretching, especially in warm-downs.

Problem solved.