How To Lose Weight and Friends at the Same Time

I've lost 50 pounds using my secret Diet Plan, which I call "The Loner's Diet"...it's a 'secret' because almost no one wants to know about it...and it's a "Loner's Diet" because divulging the secret is a resentment-building conversation killer.

The secret is to eat less and to walk more. Simply eliminating snacks and sodas and seriously reducing meat and fried food consumption will work wonders in most people- in my case, I eliminated beer from my diet, started cooking at home and lost weight without even trying...but not many people want to hear that- they would rather hear about a non-existent  'miracle method'.

"PDTFP" (Put Down The Fucking Pringles)is the best advice I know, but dispensing it will not win you many friends in today's  high-fat workplace. It is easier  to trick people into doing what is good for them:

Reality- There are 1200 calories in that bag of Cheez Goobers you are nibbling in your work-cube and another 600 in the giant-ass soda that you are washing them down with. In other words, it ain't your thyroid, it's Frito-Lay, Pepsi and laziness that are making you fat. But who wants to hear that?

When I was in IT, I used to be able to make surprisingly accurate guesses about an individual's physique just by inspecting their computer keyboard and mouse. I would up-end the keyboard over a sheet of white paper, shake it vigorously and examine the particles that fell out.  If I saw orange Cheeto-esque crumbs fall out of the keypad, it was a sure bet that the user was overweight to some extent- the degree of obesity could be roughly estimated by the type and quantity of food particles that are found in the keyboard...it is worth noting that the people who didn't eat at their computers tended to be signifcantly thinner than those who did. Just sayin'.

Unfortunately, it's difficult to point this out without sounding like an asshole- luckily, I have found that people respond better to chicanery, flammery and Gypsy spell-casting than they do to simple truth; in order to seem nicer than I really am, I used the following "diet secret" on a co-worker at a recent job...I'll call him 'G' (for gullible).

G wasn't exactly fat,  but he was getting there and he wanted to lose weight... I knew from experience that some people find the truth to be somewhat offensive, so I was reluctant to tell him that if he PDTFP, he'd lose weight. Instead, I told G a highly-unscientific and preposterous lie:

"G", I explained, "the secret to losing weight is to keep your keyboard clean."

"Huh? My keyboard?"

"Yep. Disconnect it and your mouse and clean them thoroughly. If there is food on your keys, the Law of Attraction will attract Fat Thoughts to you unconsciously...your sub-conscious will cause your body to react as if it were over-eating and you will gain weight. It is the same mechanism that causes you to gain weight just by dreaming of fattening food- or by looking at pictures of desserts."

"Oh, right...that makes sense", G replied to my utterly nonsensical fabrication, "I read about that thing with the fattening dreams. That's pretty scary- if I go to bed hungry, I always dream of food, so I try to have a snack at night so I don't get fat in my sleep." 

" Exactly", I agreed, ignoring G's stunningly clueless state,
" keep your keyboard sparkling clean for six weeks and I guarantee that you will lose at least six pounds."

It would have been much easier (but less entertaining) to just say : "stop eating junk food at your desk", but that sort of direct approach  can be seen as insensitive...luckily, it is socially acceptable to hide the truth inside  fanciful, semi-mystic gibberish-in other words,  it is easier to get people to believe in 'The Law of Attraction' than it is to get them to walk two blocks to the store or to take the stairs instead of the elevator.

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Here's simple recipe that is healthy , tasty and cheap:

-Boil water
-Chop carrots
-Chop garlic
-Add carrots and garlic to boiling water
-Boil for slightly longer than the LP version of 'In-Gadda-da-Vida'
-Add slightly less than half as much brown rice as there is water, listen to side one of Neil Young's 'After the Gold Rush' LP
-Reduce heat, add curry paste, cayenne pepper, sea salt and a couple globs of non-hydrogenated peanut butter (seriously)
-Stir, simmer on low heat, listen to side two of '...Gold Rush'.

Serve with water, juice or coffee. Eat where the computer isn't.

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If you really must eat at the computer, please wear dark clothing in solid colors- those bright yellow floral  sweatpants are attracting some seriously Fat Thoughts and it's putting me off my beans.

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Note: I recently got an email from G. He's lost 18 pounds!

Thanks, Whatever

I suppose I'm obliged to write something today about how much my family means to me or how lucky I am to be alive and blessed with the friends and opportunities I have; but the truth is I feel like that every day, except for the days I don't.

I don't need a holiday to remind me that, by all rights, I should be dead now and it's only luck, help and determination that got me this far.

And anyway, my family (with exceptions) annoys the hell out of me. I learned from one of my new co-workers that my Uncle has a huge X-mas party every year- a decades-long tradition- my new pal noted that :"there's an awful lot of drinking at those parties."

It's funny that Uncle would have an annual Holiday party and not even mention it to me...maybe it's for my self-preservation. His wife and in-laws are...how to say this politely? Unbearable?

I never stop being grateful for my friends either. I'll be spending this evening with my friend Ron and his family, which will be much, much better than staying home alone.

Instead of going Hallmark on easy targets, I'm gonna give thanks to some things that don't receive enough appreciation.


1) TOMATILLOES

Without these sticky little bastards it would be impossible to make a proper green sauce...well, not impossible, but it wouldn't be the same. The best tomatilloes I ever purchased were from a market in Chicago...they aren't sold in some "white" neighborhoods here, but that is slowly changing as more people become aware of the waxy goodness of these unsung crab-apple look-a-likes. I'm always thankful when I can find fresh tomatilloes.


2) SUITCASE DRUMS

My first-ever band was in high school and my twin brother used suitcases and trashcans for drums. At our one-and-only nightclub gig, the drummer from the main band let the Twin use his kit. The Twin had never been behind a "real" drumset before in his life. It was that kind of band.

Anyway, from time to time I encounter bands that use luggage as percussion and I'm always grateful for the good-spirited nostalgia that accompanies their baggage.
(Tech note : A SM58 works better than the D112 pictured above)

3) BLUE



I think Blue speaks for itself. Thanks, Blue!

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That's it. Enjoy the days.

Goods and Bads

My pal Schlep had a cookout at his house last evening and I stopped in for a visit on my way to the radio station. This (below) is Schlep's block. He lives in a thatched-roof hut behind the shrubs on the left...there used to be more trees on this block, but in 2003 Hurricane Isabel knocked them down and Schlep, practical man that he is, cut them into logs and built a cabin in an unsuspecting neighbor's backyard. He's been squatting there ever since...he even has his own vineyard now!




I met Schlep on Blogger...he googled "Snakefinger" (my all-time guitar hero) and found my blog. After an exchange of comments and/or emails, we established that not only do we both live in the same town, we live exactly one block apart from each other! Small world , eh? Since then, he's turned me onto some cool music, especially a band called Cardiacs, who are simply too good to be well-known.

I, in turn, gifted Schlep with my special recipe for Marinated Possum Kabobs (below). Basically, you catch a possum, fillet it, marinade the strips of flesh in a mixture of olive oil, garlic, cilantro and Clorox, place them on skewers and then grill them over coals until they change color. Any color will do.







At one point, the discussion turned to cameras. Did you know that they sell cameras with the YouTube logo on them? For some reason, that makes me paranoid.
In a cagey attempt to capture Schlep's image in pixels, I took a picture of the aforementioned camera- alas, Schlep reads this blog and knows all too well what happens to the pictures I take, so he turned his face away at the critical moment.

Sadly, I had to engineer a band last night, so I didn't get to stay long enough to eat my fill...if I like a band and have a good time producing them, I will usually blog about it.

I'm not blogging about last night's band.

When the session was finally over, the crowded studio was suddenly empty, leaving just myself and my assistant, Galaxy Girl, to put away the gear and clean up the mess...where did everyone go?

They went downstairs for dinner and beers. As GG and I left the station, we peered through the plate glass window of the restaurant below the studio and saw the band and a gaggle of DJ's yukking it up. Man, I sure was hungry...I really could have used a meal but I am what is known as "dirt-poor" and eating out is not in my playbook.

So I went home and ate this (below). I guess it doesn't look too bad until you consider the fact that I've been eating the same pot of chili for five days and I swear to Godzilla, I'm about fucking sick of it by now. One more day and it will be gone...



My boss isn't here today. I don't know where he is or who to ask...I'm kinda stuck on the project I'm working on and there isn't anyone for me to ask for help. My boss is a responsible-type guy and it's not like him to just not show up- that's more my style- all kidding aside, I'm a little worried.

Oh! An Outlook message! Maybe it's from my boss- I hope he can answer my work questions...oh...nevermind. Tomorrow is "Hot Dog Friday"...hot dogs will provided to the workers tomorrow.
Great.
I don't eat hot dogs unless I am in Chicago, and even then I'm a little picky... I guess I'll bring the last of my chili with me tomorrow.
De-fucking-licious.

Spend Money, Gain Weight

Reading bad journalism can't make you fat or poor but following the examples given in said articles can. Let's look at this piece from MSN, via the Christian Science Monitor (red words mine):

By the time he's driven to the farmers market, bought the organic veggies and spent an hour cooking a meal for himself and his wife, Mark Chernesky figures he's spent $30.

What is he buying? $30 will buy more than enough veggies, organic or not, to feed two people. I can feed myself for an entire week for $30 using pasta, veggies and bread. Dude must be buying meat or seafood.

Dude has also factored driving and preparation time into his food cost.

That's why recently, after fighting rush hour, the Atlanta multimedia coordinator dashed in to Figo, a pasta place, for hand-stuffed ravioli slathered with puttanesca sauce. "I'll get out of here for $17 plus tip," he said.

First, an admission of prejudice. I hate anchovies. Second, dude has factored time and gas into his home-cooking expense; in the take-out example, these should apply as well- "rush hour traffic" and tip, plus $17 dollars, plus time...are we nearing $30 yet? Third, puttanesca is not especially expensive to make and the upscale-sounding phrase 'hand-stuffed' is just another way of saying that you are willing to pay someone else to stuff your ravioli for you. That's an indulgence.

Crunch the numbers, and across America the refrain is the same:is the same: Eating out is the new eating in. Even with wages stagnant, time-strapped workers are abandoning the family kitchen in droves.

The preceding paragraph adds absolutely nothing to the argument that eating out is cheaper than eating at home. It does, however, lend credence to my theory that people are lazier than ever before.

"When I add my hourly rate, the time to cook at home, I can instead take my family out to dinner, and it comes out pretty even," said Paul Howard, a manager-instructor at Café Laura, a restaurant run by college students at Pennsylvania State University in University Park, Pa.

Dude, how many people consider their family dinner as billable hours? By that logic, you'd have to factor your 'hourly rate' into every domestic activity. By extension, you could save hundreds of dollars a week just by canceling your cable TV. Does Dude think about his 'hourly rate ' during sex? There's a word for that. A dish as well: puttanesca sauce.

Sometimes I fantasize about what it would be like to have a family and my most pleasant images are of preparing and sharing meals together. According to this article, Americans are beginning to consider the nightly repast as a necessary evil to be dispensed with as quickly as possible in order to get back to doing whatever it is that is more important to them than spending time with their families. That is sad.

In addition to the time spent together, when you fix your own meals you can reduce and/or eliminate fats, sugars, salt, even meat if you choose ...whatever you don't want, you don't get. When you eat out, you have no idea what you are getting and how many calories it contains.

Here's a good two-step method for estimating take-out calories:

1)Look at whatever it is that you are getting ready to eat. Make a guess at it's caloric content using your worst nightmares as a guideline.

2)Double that estimate.

I know that there are some readers who will make arguments for eating out. I'm not against eating out. I'm disputing the argument that it is cheaper than eating at home.

I'll bet you dinner that I'm right.

Thanks

A little over two years ago I had a very unpleasant night. It started on the evening that I quit drinking.
I hadn't been feeling very well, so I thought maybe I'd lay off the booze for a week or two...but after less than a day, I started feeling ill- I had to leave work early, I could barely keep from throwing up and I was so dizzy that I could hardly speak: "sick...must go home", I mumbled and left.

Other than a beer, I only wanted two things:

1) An ice cube. For hours, I had been plagued with an indescribable thirst, the like of which I had never experienced- but every time I drank water, I vomited. A small sip of water would result in a small geyser of black, bloody bile; followed by incapacitating stabbing pains in my guts...perhaps a smaller sip of room temperature water would help...more blood and pain. Ice cubes felt good in my mouth as long as I was careful not to swallow any of the melting water- I felt hot and cold at the same time and the ice was the only consistent thing in my world at that moment, cool, always cool...me, I was sweating, shaking and shivering but the ice made me feel stable...until it was gone.

2) I wanted to die. The tearing, burning pain from my ruptured esophagus was almost as bad as the realization that I really didn't care that I was dying...I was losing blood by the mouthful and I really expected to expire at any moment- alone in a filthy apartment, surrounded by vodka bottles, beer cans and my own bloody puke, which I didn't see any pressing need to clean up.

I wonder if I'll ever understand why I changed my mind, but obviously I did.

I used my last twenty minutes of consciousness to drive myself to a fairly distant hospital - the same one I was born in, in fact. I live across the street from a hospital, but I didn't want t go there- I once spent 12 hours in their ER waiting room and I didn't think I had 12 hours to wait...it was late -not much traffic- I ran a few lights, sorta hoping to get pulled, but not caring- any cop would see that I was sick...anyway, I made it into the emergency room with a few minutes to spare. Just a few.

A gauzy figure asked me who they should notify. I probably wasn't going to live and they needed a next-of-kin. I wanted to say something but I don't know much after that...it was all tubes, machines, masks and bright rooms full of worried people...and then nothing.

A few minutes later, I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. A stern-looking man in a white coat was standing over me...I was in a hospital. There were things inside my nose , my mouth, my arms...other places. I immediately wanted to be somewhere else.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital..."

"Do you know what day it is?"

I told him. I was wrong by three days.

For three days I had suffered a series of grand mal seizures brought on by my sudden alcoholic withdrawal- after years of daily drinking, my body wasn't capable of running properly without alcohol...at various points it looked as if my heart, kidneys and/or liver were going to quit altogether, but luckily, they did not.
All told, three surgeries were required to repair the physical damage done by decades of alcoholism. The emotional damage is a different matter. That is something that I am working on at this very moment.

After I was told what had happened to me, I knew that I wouldn't drink again, but convincing my therapists and doctors was not so easy...one woman told me that statistically, most people who arrive in my condition don't live more than a few months- they usually drink again as soon as they are released and die shortly thereafter. Given my personal history and family background, she was not at all optimistic about my chance of recovery- my liver was starting to break down and it was too early to tell if it would recover (it did)...I was advised to start getting whatever affairs I had in order.

Fuck that. Football season was getting ready to begin and my 39th birthday was right around the corner...my previous plan of "dead by 40" didn't seem so appealing...I didn't know dying would hurt so much. I was in no hurry for more pain.

During those days I learned to love ginger ale, though I seldom touch it anymore.

Ginger ale meant I was getting better- one straw full, sip...wait...take another, smaller one...in an hour you can have another sip. Maybe.
Tiny sips of ginger ale and an IV full of Valium sustained me for several days...eventually, I convinced my keepers that I wasn't suicidal and that I could be trusted to go home unattended. If I'd been insured, I imagine that I'd have been placed on the 5th floor psych ward...but I wasn't insured, so I was freed.

I didn't have much to come home to. I had lost my temp job during my absence and had spent what little money I had on medical bills and Nexium. My car was a 'rolling total', an '87 Honda in worse shape than I was...at home, all the blood and mess from that dreadful night was still there, dried and caked onto everything...

For two years after that, I left a little blackish spot of dried blood on the wall behind the toilet- I pointedly avoided it during my rare cleaning episodes- I left it there as a reminder to myself as to how goddamn fucking lucky I am to be alive and that one drink could put me right back behind the toilet.

Last week I cleaned that speck off. I don't need it any more.

I was going to make an "inspirational list" of things that I am thankful for, but honestly,
the one thing that I am most thankful for is the fact that I am still alive.

I spent today in my kitchen.
My grandmother has been too ill to prepare a 'real' dinner for many years- for a while we made do with the store-box type, which are awful- but after I sobered up, I took on the job of preparing our holiday family meals.

With Grandma, my Dad and my Uncle all in bad shape, I have to face up to the fact that each holiday may be the last one. There's nothing I can do about that except try to make sure that we have the best dinner possible... today I prepared homemade stuffing, laced with cranberries and fresh rosemary leaves- sadly, parsley, sage and thyme were of the dry variety- I boiled, peeled and mashed five pounds of fresh russets, adding just a touch of cream, white pepper, fresh roasted garlic and olive oil...mmmm...so good...and finished with a rice pilaf, using just a touch of cumin...a recent experiment showed that this blends exceptionally well with traditional gravy and stuffing-important life lesson: don't be afraid to take chances when cooking! Some odd combos work nicely... mangoes and goat, for instance.

Anyway, I don't need a list of things to be thankful for.

I have only one thing to be thankful for.

I'm thankful to be alive. That covers everything.