Paisley-adorned wood Bow Tie o’ the Day went with us on a Sunday outing for an “infrared massage.” Suzanne’s back had been pitching a fit all week because of her long days at work, so I ferreted around in my out-of-control gift card/coupon folder, and VOILA! Two gift cards for infrared massages popped up.
We had no idea what an infrared massage might be but we scheduled one anyway. As we were driving to our appointment, I said to Suzanne, “You know, it could be something a like a lampless sunlamp.” I was close.
We ended up brrrr-naked and enclosed in something like a long phone booth, in which wall panels put out intense heat. I believe we maxed out at somewhere around 165 degrees, for 40 minutes. It was a Sweat Lodge, but without steam.
We were able to program what our infrared massage was supposed to do for us. We choose the “anti-aging” setting. The heat really did feel great on our aches and pains, but we look just as old as before we spent our time in the Infrared Time Machine.
One thing really messed with my head while we were being heated up. We could program what music we listened to during the massage, and I went with a simple Pandora 80’s Rock station. Folks, I was fully conscious about music in the 80’s. I had a stereo, a Walkman, and an armband radio. I was ALWAYS listening to all kinds of music. I know my 80’s Rock. Pandora presented its version of 80’s Rock as if it was all Whitesnake, Guns N’ Roses, and Scorpions. Over and over and over. I WAS THERE! I know they weren’t the only three rock ‘n’ roll bands playing music during that decade. But Pandora made me doubt my own music memories. I kept thinking I must have been wrong. It must have been the heat.