From the downtown Hammock District

I'm a hammock guy.

Some people like stand up desks to straighten out their spines and look all forward-thinking.

Some people like their Herman Aeron chairs in the locked off position to prevent reclining.

Some people like visiting chiropractors because they have good sucking candy at the receptionists. Sorry, I can't think of a single reason why anyone would visit a Chiropractor.

But me, I like hammocks.
Always have, always will.

Maybe it's because I'm blessed, and even at the advanced age of 44, have never had problems with my back -- though I understand the painkillers for such ailments are really good.

Or it might have something to do with my affinity for swimming. There's something very liberating about being weightless in the prone position.

In any case, as I've mentioned before, I'm a hammock guy. And pictured above is my latest hammock, generously gifted to me by my lovely wife, despite my poor supermarket choices in garbage bags.

As you might have guessed, assembling this monstrosity was no walk in the park.

Those are four massively heavy arched timbers of dense Cyprus wood. And they had to be configured in such a way that the foot long bolts would slide through the pre-drilled holes. Then there was the matter of digging through my garage for the right size ratchet socket.

With twenty years of home ownership under my belt, I have accumulated hundreds of ratchet sockets. Not one of them properly returned to its clearly marked ratchet socket home in the plastic infused ratchet socket carrying case.

In other words, it wasn't pretty.

There was a lot of cursing. Nail biting. More cursing. Awkward cantilevering of the dense wood in order to hold the arches in place. And a lot more cursing. I've had an easier time putting together a Swedish Credenza from Ikea -- Der Florgenshpippel.

But as you can see, I persevered.
And the hammock is incredibly comfortable.

In fact, as soon I exhausted the last bolt and washer, I kicked off my shoes and laid down to enjoy its gravity-defying Nirvana.

And then, it started raining.