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.