They might be three generations, or three friends, or three strangers. I like not knowing. It brings me into the process. It makes me look harder. View larger here.

Update: that shot I got in the lower back or butt, depending on your prurient interests, was either a corticosteroid or heroin, and it seems to have alleviated a great deal of my discomfort, which is just as well, since I discovered that the MRI that was going to be the next station of the cross would cost not $800, as it had in 2005, but $4800. Now I ask you, what has transpired in the last four years to raise the cost of an MRI 600%? Does it come with time travel, that allows you to return to the moment just before you did whatever you did to cause your current state of suffering? Does it print an image on a solid-gold commemorative plate? Does it come with a complimentary celebrity of my choice to deliver the results? Well, I'm not going to find out anytime soon, because the shot seems to be working, in conjunction with Amanda's excellent advice re: devoting attention to the psychological component of back pain. Yes, I said back pain. For the purposes of this blog, my back extends to the top of my thighs.