The Double Century

Welcome to my 200th post. This blog started on August 4th last year with no idea if I would bother to keep it up or not. But thanks to my loyal fans - and the four of you know who you are - I have surprised myself by managing to write 200 posts since then.

Along the way I have learned a few things. Most notable, though, is that lots of guys cross their arms when they have their picture taken. I am not sure about Robert, Jorge and Ian, but I cross my arms in the vain hope that they will mask my industrial-sized love handles. The ledge from my belly also is a convenient place to rest my arms and take the strain of my very long arms off my shoulders.

But back to writing 200 posts. . . It may not seem like such an accomplishment to most people, but for me it is. I am a procrastinator by nature, which is a nice way of calling myself pretty lazy. Yet in my retirement I have doggedly stuck to two things - writing this blog and exercising. Most of the rest has been the abridged version of Great Expectations.

Which is all a roundabout way of telling you about the weight loss experiment. But first, a second run of the first picture I ever posted on this blog - my Mom and son Tom at my 60th birthday party in Rutland.



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Testing the Heavy Drinkers Quick Weight Loss Program.
Log. Day Seven.

I continue the tests to determine the viability of losing weight by not drinking while eating and exercising as normally. Well, technically that's no longer true. Last night, frustrated by a week of very little weight loss, I reintroduced white wine into the diet to see what the impact would be.

These are this morning's measurements.

Body Mass Index. Down -1.5% from yesterday and -2.0% from seven days ago. It is the lowest BMI in the three months of measurement.

Weight. Down -4.4 pounds (-2kg) since yesterday. Down -6.4 pounds (-2.9kg) in seven days.

Conclusion: This is a very exciting development. After drinking only water for six days, last evening a miracle occurred as I turned water into wine. My weight and BMI plummeted. It is likely that my grateful body celebrated the return of alcohol to its bloodstream by having an internal beach party and burning a body-fat bonfire.

A satisfying conclusion to a difficult and challenging experiment.

Love Thy Neighbor

"Would you be mine?
Could you be mine?
Won't you be my neighbor?"

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Fred Rogers
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Put this in the category of One of Life's Little Mysteries Is Solved. For quite some time now, our trash bins have been miraculously appearing back in their normal space after the garbage trucks have emptied them and left them on the street. This morning I was sitting at the computer upstairs shortly after the trash was collected when I noticed one of our older neighbors a few houses up the block putting other people's trash bins back. He walked across the road doing the same including our house.

I have no idea if this is his idea of performing small, anonymous acts of charity for people you don't even know all that well or whether he has a type of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder which compels him to tidy up all the trash bins with their lids open or lying on their side in the road. In Greenwich either one is a real possibility. I will take it as an act of kindness.

I could ask him, of course, but the fact is that we have lived directly across the street from one another for nine years and have never spoken. We're friendly in the half-smile-nod-your-head way, but one thing no one will ever accuse Linda and me of is being overly close with our neighbors.

In the 20+ years we have lived in Oz, we have been in our neighbors' homes three times - and only once here where we have lived since 2000. Our neighbors have been in our homes, if my memory serves me correctly, never.

The funny thing is that we consider ourselves friendly with several of them. We stop and chat for awhile when we bump into one another on the sidewalk. They've collected our mail when we were away for a short time. We've asked some of them to join us for a drink on the deck in the summer, not really expecting them to accept - and they don't.

I think it's probably pretty urban. You live so close to one another that it's probably a lot safer to be cordial with one another than test a friendship by socializing only to realize that you would rather find out what it's like for a hairy man to wax his body than listen to them one more hour. And then you end up with the incredibly awkward times when you meet someone on the street whom you owe a dinner and have no desire whatsoever to return the favor because they are so boring/irritating/just plain dumb.

However, I am pretty sure the main reason for all this is because LK and I have been like bears retreating to their cave during our working years. We really savor evenings and weekends where we just veg out. When she joins me in retirement in a couple of weeks, I suspect this will be less desirable. But then again, it may get worse as we both start to grumble when we have to wear anything other than sweatpants and a t-shirt. It could go either way.

It was the New England poet Robert Frost who wrote, "Good fences make good neighbors," but I really can't claim I was raised to be like this with my neighbors. When I was growing up, my parents were great friends with so many of their neighbors. I can remember them all taking turns having get-togethers at one another's house. They became lifetime friends and forty years later, with great distances now between them, my folks are still in touch with several of those people.

And while it's nice to get phone calls, visits and e-mails from old neighbors, I will have to content myself with having the trash can brought in from the street.

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Testing the Heavy Drinkers Quick Weight Loss Program.
Log. Days Four through Six.

I continue the tests to determine the viability of losing weight by not drinking while eating and exercising as normally. I am beginning to think my theory is more wishful thinking than science. But wait, that's not really so bad, is it?

The monkeys have finally left the house. I did awaken to voices in the bedroom and thought it was them, but it turns out it was only Linda complaining - once again - that she cannot sleep on her side of the bed because she keeps rolling downhill toward me.

On Days Four and Five, blood glucose stayed level and BMI and weight both went UP, although not to the levels at the beginning of the test. Day Six saw glucose down quite a bit - although that may have had more to do with remembering to take my meds than any diet. BMI and weight both went down, but neither is as low as they were on Day Two.

So, cumulative six-day results:

BMI Down 1%
Weight Down 1.76 pounds (.9kg) (but 2 pounds higher than after Day Two)

Conclusion: I could have lost more weight by drinking two glasses of prune juice each day. I am even cheating a bit by increasing my exercising time in the (vain) hope of driving the numbers further down. If tomorrow doesn't yield some worthwhile results, this test is toast - admittedly, only browned on one side. I may mark the end of the test by going vegetarian - well, olives in the martinis.

Fantasy and Reality

There are three great train wrecks in entertainment history.

Undoubtedly the best is in the early scenes of The Fugitive with Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones. As the train jumps the tracks and roars straight at you, you tense up and sit back in your seat, waiting for the impact to blow you to smithereens.

Second best is a wreck that is never shown, but the whole movie is about the lead-up to the crash. That's Runaway Train with Jon Voight and Eric Roberts. It's tense and heart-pounding, but ends in a eerie, dreamy acceptance that this train is going to be in little pieces in a few seconds.

The third best train wreck in entertainment history is happening right now. It's called Masterchef Australia, and it is a reality show that manages to combine mean-spiritedness and banality with a complete lack of suspense. It features judges so little known outside their own restaurants that they have to keep repeating their credentials every episode.

This won't mean much to you folks outside the US, of course, but it has been massively hyped here in Oz. It started out with a huge audience - mostly, I would guess, people who loved the BBC show called Masterchef. In the space of about nine episodes the local producers have managed to turn so many people off that it surely must rate as one of the worst examples of bad decision-making in the history of TV - and think how many of those there are!

The British original is a good-spirited show that is all about cooking. A bunch of people cook their hearts out and two judges decide who advances. Even when the dish is inedible, say raw chicken, the judges inevitably look really sorry for the contestant and commiserate that things didn't quite work out.

The Aussie version is actually nothing like the British show. It's more like Australian Top Chef Idol Survivor, with contestants undoubtedly being chosen for their personality and TV-ness. The judges love to mislead the contestants, much in the manner of an idiot uncle who thinks it's funny to tell a kid they're not getting any Christmas presents because Santa died only to say "Just kidding" when the kid starts bawling.

Last night's episode was the ultimate as the judges decided they had better things to do and they let the contestants decide who should be the first person to be kicked off the show. In the words of Reality Raver, a fun local blogger who obviously watches waaaay too much TV, the show has turned into a farce.

All of which is only interesting to me because Linda applied to get on the show. Thinking it would be like the BBC show for amateur cooks, she thought it would be a hoot to give it a go. She certainly cruelled her chances when she answered No to the question about whether she could give up three months away from her family if she were selected.

Thank God she did. Every time I watch one of those episodes, I picture her in the group. I could see her standing before the judges as they decide which 20 go to the finals. "Linda," they would say ever so slowly, "you're a good cook, but we're looking for a great chef so I've got some bad news for you." Camera shows Linda looking resigned to not going through. And then the judge smiles and says, "The bad news is you're going to be away from your family for three months because you're a finalist!"

They actually did that over and over to the contestants until you wanted to slap them upside the head. Most contestants went from abject dismay to near hysterical joy. My darling, however, would have been far more likely to scowl at the short judge who had said this (well, two of them are verrrry short and one is a flamboyant giant, so let's say the shortest judge), and my darling would probably have said something that would have aired like, "BLEEP you, you cruel midget BLEEPhole. Why would I want to spend one more BLEEPing day much less three months with BLEEPs like you?"

But let's say she held her tongue and ended up in the house with all the others. The mind boggles to think of her putting up with the clueless cute blonde - "Would you get a clue, you dumb BLEEP?" - or the super earnest one who is so scared of being eliminated - "Honey, it's a BLEEPing cooking show in BLEEPing Australia. Get a life!"

Well, you get the idea. In fact, the only reason I am enjoying this show at all any more is because I keep fantasizing scenes with my darling in the midst of all this. Frankly, that would have been fantastic entertainment. Chalk it up as one more mistake the local producers made.

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Testing the Heavy Drinkers Quick Weight Loss Program.
Log. Day Three.

I continue the tests to determine the viability of losing weight by not drinking while eating and exercising as normally. Significant changes are being noted. Perhaps most notable, the monkeys are no longer screeching at me, and are in fact conversing intelligently.

6.00pm I made a scotch and water for LK. Surprised myself by not wanting a drink myself.

6.01pm Changed my mind, but held firm. It helps that I have made sure there is no white wine or vodka in the house.

6.03pm Looked in the cupboard. Asked Linda what Framboise tastes like.

9.00pm Dinner. Tonight LK made baked penne with roasted cherry tomatoes, chili peppers, olive oil, fresh herbs and bits of sausage. I am beginning to suspect the fact that she didn't get on Masterchef has motivated her. I decide not tell her I never mailed her application.

9.10 Have more baked penne. Not even hungry any more, but it tastes so good. No, I mean I am doing this in the interest of the experiment to see if booze alone is why I am not losing weight.

10:50 Fighting sleep.

10:52 Fighting monsters in my sleep. The scariest is Freddie Krueger with a wine glass in his blade fingers. I know what will happen if I take it, and yet....

6.00am Wake up feeling good. Decide that means it's not time to get up and try to go back to sleep.

8.05am Measurements

Blood glucose levels have gone down -3.6%.

Body Mass Index down -1.9%

Weight down -1.5%

Conclusion: Very concerned about false readings. Must not jump to conclusions that booze really does have an impact of weight. May have to abandon trials if this disturbing trend continues.

Working Class Man

That's Maynard G Krebs.

Anyone younger than me will be thinking, No, that's Gilligan. They were both played by Bob Denver, but his first big role came as Maynard the beatnik kid in The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis - the TV show that started in 1959 and anticipated the announcers CNN would hire in later years by having the characters named Dobie, Maynard, Zelda, Thalia and Chatsworth.

I was thinking of Maynard today because he had a signature line on the show. Whenever anyone mentioned the possibility of work, his eyes would open wide and, in a voice about an octave higher than normal, he would screech "Work!" as if it was the most awful thing that could happen to a person.

Well, I have to confess that I have accepted some work ("Work!") in my retirement. Last month I did a couple of days and in the next few weeks I will really be tied up with a fairly large project. I am of two minds about mixing business with my life of pleasure.

The first is obvious. Getting a few more smackers in the bank account won't hurt given the trimming everything has taken during the (deep, ominous voice here) Global Financial Crisis. The 600-pound gorilla I haven't written about is, of course, the drop in retirement savings and plans that happened about 30 seconds after I walked out the door of the company.

But the truth is that we will be fine if things come back in the next year or two and Sydney's housing prices don't decide that they've stayed high long enough and it's time for a little lie-down. No sense in worrying about what you can't control, so I am choosing to believe that everything will be just fine. And if it isn't, we should at least be able to buy tinned cat food and not just the dry stuff.

Nonetheless, doing some work keeps me involved to an extent, keeps my skills up, and gives me a new focus while I am writing. To which, I say, Who cares?

And that's the other part of my thinking about taking on this work. Even when I was working, I didn't do it to keep myself involved, maintain my skills or have focus. I did it because I liked it. And when I didn't like it, I did it because I had made a commitment.

So doing this stuff now is like those times you took a job when you had summer holidays in high school. Sure, it was still vacation, and sure you could always use the money. But it definitely did not feel like summer vacation.

The flip side to all of this is that I am still pretty good at the type of work I have agreed to do, and it will not be a huge chore to get it done. Oh, and one thing I forgot to mention - it will make Linda happy.

So in one of the other signature lines of the great Maynard G Krebs, "You rang?"


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Testing the Heavy Drinkers Quick Weight Loss Program.
Log. Day Two.

I continue the tests to determine the viability of losing weight by not drinking while eating and exercising as normally. It seems remarkable that this is only Day Two. It seems more like six or seven months. Clearly, one of the side effects of forgoing the grog is that time stretches out and two days seems closer to an eternity.

7.00pm Watching dreadful cooking show on TV. Cannot focus on what is being prepared as bottle of wine in the background dominates my vision.

7.20pm Make LK a scotch and soda. Inhale fumes from Johnny Walker bottle for several seconds until she looks over.

9.00pm Dinner. Steak. Corn. Baked potatoes with butter, sour cream, chives. Briefly think that if this program works, it's not too shabby. Then realize that the best thing with a steak is not a glass of water.

10.30pm Surprise myself for second night in a row by falling asleep quickly. Dream of Flying Monkeys from the Wizard of Oz.

11.45pm In bathroom, eying Listerine bottle. I do not see any warnings that drinking contents is harmful. Slightly concerned that stomach could blow up in the manner of the people's cheeks in the Listerine ads. Do not need more stretch marks. Will think more about it.

7.00am Awake feeling better and more alert than usual. Consider this an annoying side effect as I recall the old line - this is the best I am going to feel today.

8.30am After five cups of coffee, decide to do exercises. Great difficulty standing still for yoga positions. Deep Breathing more like Shallow Panting. I blame this on lack of alcohol, not excessive caffeine. As you would.

9am Test results:

Glucose levels up 6% since start of program. However, still within the safe range. Forgetting to take meds for last two days may have contributed as well. Hmmm. No drinking for two days. Forgetting medicine for two days. Consider possibile loss of short-term memory as damaging side effect due to absence of alcohol.

Body Mass Index up (UP!) 0.4%.

Weight up 0.2%

Conclusion: One of three explanations seems most likely.

1) This diet doesn't work and I should return to drinking immediately or risk significant weight gain.
2) The measuring devices are not functioning properly. Perhaps they have never functioned properly. Perhaps I am already thin.
3) Day-to-day changes in BMI and weight are meaningless, since they are affected by such things as time of day, fluid retention, etc.

I want to opt for #1. But I will give it another day or two to see if this is a temporary fluctuation. Alternatively, I may have to exclude baked potatoes in addition to alcohol on this diet.

Retailer Therapy

We have been watching the two-year-old BBC show, "Mary Queen of Shops", which just began airing here. I had my doubts about this show, but it is turning into one of the more interesting things on TV.

The Mary of the title is Mary Portas, who had a noteworthy career in fashion retailing, and now operates a business advising other retailers how to succeed. In each episode of the show, she visits a fashion shop that is struggling and tries to help them get on a successful track.

Sounds dry as old biscuits, which is to say it sounds like most BBC shows. However, it turns out that it's actually very interesting. I am quite surprised that I like the show so because I enjoy shopping about as much as my cat Streak would enjoy having a bubble bath. And when it comes to shopping for women's clothing, my aversion to shopping is multiplied tenfold.

I so do not want to go into a women's clothing store that I have become one of those men who prefers to stand outside the shop on the sidewalk. Sure, it's my way of putting a little bit of pressure on LK not to take too long. And of course it never works because all women have pledged never to give in to such blackmail from men when shopping is involved. If you doubt me, just go to most malls and check out how many old guys are sitting on the benches killing time.

Anyhow back to the TV show, it may be about fashion boutiques but it really is a nice little primer on business in general. Mary Portas takes the shop owners out to meet their customers, has them take a close look at their nearest competitors, shows them some best practice shops that are doing very well and lets them interact with some of the best in the business. She then applies her extensive - successful - experience to advise them on what she thinks needs to be done.

And that is when the show becomes interesting. Because inevitably one or both of the shop owners digs in their heels or is offended or in some other way lets her know that they don't think much of what she is suggesting. Here you have people who are struggling in their business, have obviously asked this top-class expert to advise them and have been given a crash course in business. And they get defensive about their failed ideas! Amazing - and probably predictable.

There's no question that most businesses - hey, most everything - fail because people lock into things they need to change and refuse to do so. Fortunately for the folks on the TV show, Mary Portas is charming and persuasive. She usually gets her way. And inevitably the shop starts thriving and doing record business. And the person who fought her gives her a poor-faced You Were Right while they stuff money in their pockets they would not have had otherwise.

I want to check these shops out the next time we are in the UK. It will be interesting to see if they are still successful or if they only thrived when the TV cameras were rolling. You'll know if they're still doing well. There will be several older guys hanging around on the sidewalk checking their watches every few minutes.

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Testing the Heavy Drinkers Quick Weight Loss Program.
Log. Day One.

I have begun the tests to determine the viability of losing weight by not drinking while eating and exercising as normally. Interesting results.

6pm Looked longingly at the wine glass in the cupboard but drank water instead.

7.15 Ignored screeching monkey hanging from the chandelier in the living room when I remembered there is no chandelier in the living room.

8.45 Forgot about wine for 15 seconds as I began to enjoy Mary Queen of Shops when Pom losers became defensive about their bad ideas.

9.15 Ate dinner. Realized I was no longer hungry and stopped eating. Very strange side effect to not drinking!!!!

10.30 Went to bed and fell asleep. Most surprising.

11.110 Woke up feeling refreshed. Wondered why it was still dark.

8.30 am. Time to measure.

Body Mass Index down .3% Might not sound like much, but that means that in 3 days, I could reduce the BMI by 1%. Theoretically, in 300 days I could cease to exist. If I haven't started drinking before then, I won't care.

Weight down 1.1 pounds (.5kg). May be a good sign but just as likely it is the aftermath of the pea soup LK made last night.

Weightier Matters

It's easy to ignore the elephant in the room, when you are the elephant. But it's time to take action about this weight thing. Every morning my Wii Fit tells me I am obese. When you look at the chart of my Body Mass Index, you have to take the Wii's word that it's there because its graph's scale doesn't go that high on the screen.

It's not like I am new to this overweight thing. I've been loosening my belt after dinner mot of my life.

I distinctly remember when I was a kid I wore husky dungarees. Don't know why denim jeans were called dungarees back then (actually I do, but I have promised not to tell you about things like the Hindu word dungri, meaning coarse cloth), and I really don't know why chubby chubs like me ended up being called husky.

But husky we were. Not husky like Julie London's voice, and definitely not husky like the sled dog. I don't think we resembled husks, but maybe that's because I a biased. But no, there was no confusion. Husky dungarees were designed to be worn by plump boys. And they started me on a lifelong pursuit of the relaxed fit.

But now I am getting very tired of it all. I have decided to reacquaint myself with my feet. And I have to accept that it's not going to happen without some drastic action.

For more than ten weeks I have astonished those who know me by exercising at least 45 minutes, and most days well over an hour. The result - not much. Obviously just moving my butt is not going to make it shrink. So today I am embarking on an experimental new diet that I have developed on my own.

I am pleased to announce The Heavy Drinker's Quick Weight Loss Plan. It's very simple and yet everything in me says that I am onto a winner.

The premise is uncomplicated. And with one small exception, it is dead easy.

First, exercise to the same level as normal. No need to do one tiny bit more than you are doing the day before the diet starts.

Second, eat exactly as you have been eating before. Love your potatoes? Have an extra one. Prefer them fried? Sizzle away. Rather have pizza? Pizza Hut delivers. Hate salad? Skip it.

Well, you get the idea. And there's no hidden trick here. No need to touch your tonsils after the meal. No need to drink 3 gallons of water before a meal. Nope, just do what you've been doing when it comes to stuffing your face.

Told you it was easy, didn't I? As I said, there is one small exception to this being dead easy. The trick to quick weight loss, I believe, will be to forgo wine and other booze for a while. Hundreds of calories will stay in the bottle instead of my belly. It would be like suddenly deciding not to eat a daily Quarter Pounder with Cheese and the fries. Seems like it should work.

Only that's not guaranteed. There is a theory that the calories of alcohol don't actually convert to fat so this may not work as easily as I think it will. It's also pretty well known that alcohol also helps keep your blood sugar down, so a diabetic like me may need to monitor glucose levels pretty carefully if I am giving it up.

But hey, I must be brave. In the interest of science, I am willing to subject myself to the enormous risks posed by not drinking a lot every night. I need to point out that I am not fanatical about this, and every good experiment needs a time line. So let's say two weeks. I will plot the changes and report.

And if I change my mind tomorrow night, I will let you know that, too.

Blog Block

Instant karma. On Thursday I posted that I would have more than enough material to post blog after blog for the next many months. And of course I haven't posted anything since then.

I have started a few times. The topics were certainly easy. My son's birthday. My close friend's birthday. Even could have gone the sports route with the great Celtics playoff games. And I got a note from Jamie about the huge upset in the Kentucky Derby.

But nothing happened. As I said, instant karma. It's payback for the fact that I was so confident of just hitting the Edit button and writing something easily. So confident, in fact, that I even began making something a little different for the 200th post, which should have happened this Wednesday or Thursday and is now heading to the middle of the month.

I've started reading quite a few blogs lately and I have noticed that most bloggers eventually run out of interesting ideas and end up writing about writing their blogs. It's the long-form of tweeting that you're sending a tweet. And about as interesting.

I would call it navel gazing, but that would remind me that I can't see mine. Well, I can, but only in the bathroom mirror and unfortunately I have to take in the rest of me as well so I try to avoid that. So instead of writing about writing blogs, let me write about reading them.

My favorite blogger is Kelley, who does MagnetoBoldToo. She is just a fantastic writer and very funny and perceptive on top of that. She is also the most creative user of the f-word I have encountered in a very long time. Right now she's having medical, emotional, and family problems and I have realized how much you can end up caring about someone you have never met - don't even know her last name - and all because they were able to make you enjoy it when they wrote about themselves. And it doesn't hurt that she is able to do all of this while being excruciatingly funny most of the time. (If you go there right now, though, she is using guest bloggers so read down through the archives to see what the genuine article is all about.)

Poker star Daniel Negreanu's blog is interesting, especially if you're a fan of his. Besides writing about poker, he wanders off into all sorts of other stuff that makes it fun for me to read. Ricky Gervais is often foul and filthy, of course. And very funny. As is Stuff White People Like as well, although it does get a tad self-promotional. Carl Bialik, the Wall St Journal's Numbers Guy, has been one of my favorite columnists for a very long time. I couldn't do HSX without reading Tom O'Neil's Gold Derby. And LK turned me onto Chubby Hubby: Whining, Dining & Marriage, a fantastic cooking site by Singapore's Aun Koh. And I get my Boston sports fixes by downloading the BS Report podcasts by ESPN's Bill Simmons.

So now you have plenty to read if I don't post, and all the pressure is off me to produce. Which means I will have either kicked this writer's block into the next county. Or not. But I promise no more writing about writing.