The group I'm traveling with includes a famous dance troupe, and their traveling support staff includes physical therapists to help heal the inevitable booboos and whatnot. I had occasion to bring one of my young students into the PT room yesterday - he had gotten a booboo himself.

The PTs have a grand assortment of muscle rollers, back stretching balls, and other props useful for stretching and working out knots.

So picture this scene: me lying on the floor cracking my back over a giant noodle, a bunch of dancers stretched out around me rolling their legs and icing their knees and feet, a 13-year-old boy regaling us with stories from his experiences on movie sets and musical theater. Some of his film work never got a theatrical release - them's the breaks in showbiz - but he got some small compensation in the form of cool stories. These included the time he got his eyes poked out in a horror movie, and his realistic assessment of his relationship with star Dakota Fanning: "I keep up with her, but she doesn't really keep up with me." He was pretty smooth, trying to impress the big girls, and they were eating it up.

Me, I just enjoyed the way my back was feeling.