Due to constant backaches Michael decided that it was time to see a chiropractor. Forget this. Michael never sought medical help. He was superman. Superman. He was. He is. Dancing to tea cups scattered in the vegetable garden, that's where you could find our modern superman. Supertights and cape had been traded in for a tutu and a leotard. No he wasn't gay. It was just a crisis of identity. Many are not aware of it but sporting the big S can be taxing on the nerves. It's a weight my friend. Don't forget it. So when you see him slipping, let it go. Let it pass. We all recognize the soft grin and hard gaze which indicates that another episode of insanity is about to spew forth from superman as he prances to and fro like a dictator addressing an audience of three. I prefer that he is alive. He makes life worth living.