The love of my life fussed as, yet again, I had scarfed down some hunk of food. It was only because she wanted to keep me around for a while longer—my father was only 57 when he died of a massive heart attack. Into my mid 50's myself, it's not long until I cross that threshhold myself. A threshhold I've crossed myself, now in my late 50's. Well, well, well, the big six-oh has come and gone, I'm now (June 2021 relaunch) nearly a year into post-65 retirement age, and yet again, time to re-channel and re-double/
Food has always been my friend—my companion when I'm happy, my comfort when I'm sad. Other people go on vacations or business trips and years later remember where they went, what they did, who they met—even their names. I remember food.
- The best chocolate mousse I ever had? A restaurant with floor to ceiling French windows, right on Lake Geneva in Switzerland.
- The best rustic sausages? Barcelona, Spain, the "old" section of town (as in Christopher Columbus walked there), a bit dicey late at night but worth it for the food.
- The best roast duck (other than Peking duck!)? The Eiffel tower restaurant in Paris. Who would have thought it wasn't just a tourist trap?
- The best key lime pie? The Riverboat restaurant at Epcot Center. But since Key West invented key lime pie, I hope to travel further south some day to sample it at the source! Your "bucket list" might feature visiting the Grand Canyon or some place exotic like the Taj Mahal. My bucket list features pie.
- The best steamed shrimp (their Friday dinner special—and quite special for other reasons as well) washed down with a Bloody Mary or two or three? Ships Cabin Restaurant in Norfolk, Virginia.
- The best eggs over easy? A long narrow hole-in-the-wall diner in London.
- The best steak? A 3-way tie: Peter Luger's (original) steak house in Brooklyn, New York. Steak house restaurant on the MS Maasdam (Holland America has since sold the ship). The Original Pantry Cafe, downtown Los Angeles, corner of Figueroa and West 9th Streets. Preference? It moos when you stick it yet can be cut with a fork.
I think you get the picture.
I've gained and lost weight my entire life. When was it that I was first informed of my love affair with food? The time my then future stepson (first marriage), six, did an imitation of his mother's boyfriend at a restaurant: studiously reading the menu, turning it over several times, closing it and handing it to the waiter, stating, simply, “Yes, thank you.”
When was I reminded, this latest weight gain time around, that my food issue was once again a runaway train? Our border collie (second marriage) started coming over every time I sat down in the den, staring at me only the way a border collie can, patiently awaiting her share of whatever snack it was that her daddy had just retrieved from the kitchen.
And now, years later, her successor, an Australian Shepherd, nearly as smart, not only does the same, but ''supervises'' in the kitchen!
I can't say I've tried “every” diet there is. But I've certainly dieted enough times. And so my alpha et omega: the start of another diet and hopefully the end of the diet cycle.
Positive self image
We've all heard it, you can't change yourself until you feel better about yourself. If you work on feeling better about yourself, the results will “start to show.” One time—this was probably 25 years ago—on a programmer's salary I went out and bought $3,000 of Burberry suits in my “fat” size (a mere—in retrospect—224 pounds). I read all the nutritional content labels, counted all my calories, found substitutes for all my favorite treats: popcorn for salty crunch of potato chips, cans of pineapple packed in juice in the fridge for the cold sweet of ice cream or the chilled sweetened condensed milk,.... Celebrating success, I splurged for another new wardrobe while also having my favorite pinstripe suit taken in to a size 40 jacket/34 pants.
The “svelte” me lasted until my next job.
Ka-ching!
No, not pulling the lever on a one-armed bandit. It was the sound of the ice cream vending machine in the basement cafeteria lobby letting me know I had completed inserting the correct amount of change (from the stash I kept in my top-left-drawer) and it was ready to dispense. My preference? A creamsicle bar, orange sherbet on the outside, vanilla on the inside. It was a stressful management job with late hours. After I emptied out the creamsicle bars, I moved on to the ice cream sandwiches—I tried to avoid those if at possible as I couldn't type at a computer terminal and lick off the chocolate wafer sticking to my fingers at the same time. I gained an average of a pound a month for a number of years which I've blocked from conscious memory.
Fear and loathing, guilt and shame?
I freely admit it. I don't have the time, energy, or patience to do the kinds of dieting I've done in the past. Positive thinking requires more energy than I have to give. How to motivate myself? We are all hostage to our darkest fears, they are the most difficult to counter, the easiest to succumb to. And so, my flash of inspiration: Use the power of the DARK SIDE to my advantage.
