Weight loss stress

When I was six or seven and we’d visit my grandparents every summer one of our rituals was to open the closet door in the living room and mark my height on the back of the door. Then we’d all march into the bathroom where I’d get on the scale and then back to the closet door to write my weight and the date next to my height.
“Look how much you’ve grown since last year” and “You’ll be as tall as your dad soon” and “Your mother sure must be a good cook” and “I learned it all from you, Mom” and everyone would laugh and then they’d put the script away until next year.
I can’t remember when that stopped, maybe when I was eleven or twelve. I know I stopped growing taller when I was about seventeen and my weight held steady for a number of years. Then up it went. I’ve always thought that I just needed to put on height. I think 7’2” would be about right on the charts.
As the years pass it gets harder and harder. You know what you should do and you think about what you can do. Are weight loss shakes right for me? How about a low-carb diet where all you eat is bacon and cheese? I always seem to fall back on the old reliable, reduced portions.
“Thank you, that German chocolate cake does look delicious. Just a sliver, please.”
You can’t start a weight loss regimen though without knowing just where the scale says you are now so I’ve made a decision to start in the morning. Before I take my shower I’ll step on the old scale to see where I am but then when I went into the bathroom the next morning I found myself in the shower before I remembered the scale.
“Golly gee, I forgot to weigh myself. I’ll do it when I get out”, but then I thought better of it what with my wet feet and the tiles which can get pretty darn slippery. Better safe than sorry.
After I got dressed and the slipping danger was no longer an issue I went back into the bathroom and made a mental note of the approximate weight of the clothes I was wearing—shoes, 5 lbs; socks, 1 lb; pants, 4 lbs; belt, 1 lb; underwear, 1 lb; shirt, 2 lbs; hat, 2 lbs; watch, 3 lbs; my wallet, 4 lbs and keys, 7 lbs for a total of thirty pounds. Then I stepped on the scale but not before remembering that the 9-volt battery which powers the digital scale might be getting old and from what I have always heard, older batteries have a tendency to “excite” a readout and increase the display number. It’s all about the gigabytes or wifi or roaming charges or something.
I decided that subtracting 30 or more pounds daily (or whatever the number which will depend on my wardrobe that day) from an unreliable number displayed on the scale was no way to start an effective weight loss program.
As I walked out of the bathroom and was thinking about how to accurately kick off my weight loss journey I remembered something that just might help me get on the right track and real quick. Why was I going through all of this stressful calculation activity when the information I needed was right there in my wallet? All I had to do was look at my driver’s license (an official state document so it has to be accurate) and there it was, my weight: 177 lbs. Alright. Just where it should be.
I wonder if that other German chocolate cake sliver is still in the refrigerator?


Great for America

People made things. They saw needs in a young country and they imagined solutions and then they built the factories to make the tools and clothes and furniture and machinery that the nation needed. The factories were built with brick and stone and steel and they gave purpose to the towns that grew up around them. The people worked in the factories and the smoke from the chimneys meant that the workers were supporting their families. The towns and cities and America prospered and grew strong, strong enough to go to war and turn back the forces of evil.
Then things changed, the plants closed and the jobs moved away and the massive factories built of brick and stone and steel and built strong enough to last a century stood there empty and produced nothing.
That’s not right for America or for Americans and that’s not what Americans do so we’re putting those buildings back to work. This time we won’t be building locomotives or washing machines or automobiles or tractors but we will be calling on American geniuses like Ford and Edison and Bell to inspire us.
This time we won’t be building with iron or steel. This time there will be smoke but it won’t be coming out of the tall chimneys next to the factories it will be in the great new sandwiches we’re building with smoked ham and/or turkey and Swiss cheese piled high on artisan buns and a special All-American sauce that brings to mind the strengths of Henry and Thomas and Alexander (why not make it a combo with chips and a medium drink for just $1.99 more).
And don’t worry about parking. Back when the factory was working around the clock there were over 3500 people employed at the plant so we’ve got a huge parking lot.