I haven't been keeping close track of how many days it has been now, but the important part is that I haven't drifted back into the 180s. Even after a long holiday weekend, I tipped the scales at 174, a nice modest number and less than a handful of pounds from my main goal. My stretch goal is still somewhere around 165, but 170 is a good number for a guy my size. It means I get to remain a guy my size, and maybe start searching for pants a size down from where I am. Some days, the belt just doesn't quite feel up to the challenge of keeping my 36" pants up, and moving back down to a more modest size would be a great thing.
In other news:
I saw this news item back in June: a new young driver in South Carolina, stepping up to the photo booth at the DMV for the very first time, the closest thing the US has to a rite of passage common to every kid, was told:
"Hold it, kid. Scrape off the makeup and then we can take the picture." You might be just a bit outraged, when has the DMV ever demanded a woman take off her makeup before she can get her picture taken?
Except this new young driver is male.
Chase Culpepper is male but doesn't conform to any gender. Whether that's by choice is beside the point. He wears clothes that lean toward the feminine, he definitely looks feminine with his eyelashes, skillfully done makeup (I've worn enough on stage to know what it takes to look good, as opposed to merely clownish) and hair. More to the point, there's quite a few photos of Culpepper dressed and made up this way. I can't find as many of Chase in a less-feminine guise, though there are some to be seen. Either way, he's a good-looking kid. Got lucky in that respect. I do not make an attractive woman, and it takes a good thick layer of makeup to get me to where I make a passable woman.
But here's the point: women are not required to remove makeup before license photos. Chase was required to remove his because DMV personnel considered it a "disguise," a deliberate attempt to alter his appearance to make future identification difficult or impossible.
Well, looking at his photos, I would say there's probably at least a 50-50 chance that if stopped by police, Chase would look like his photo, regardless of how he was made up or dressed, either in the picture or in person. Knowing that, what the hell difference does it make?
And with that exact question in mind, the Culpeppers are taking the South Carolina DMV to court. Who's shocked? Raise your hand!
Hmm, no hands went up.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Oh, the possibilities...
I initially read the title of this news item as "Muppet Labs..." clicked it and started reading, and spent a lovely few seconds believing the world of IT was about to take a seriously strange, magical turn.
Alas.
Alas.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Equilibria and Day 42: 180
The first few pounds are the easiest to lose. Clearly I was working pretty hard at holding my body weight so high above what might be described as its equilibrium state, that level that it most naturally would sustain without much attention on my part. I say working, but really what it was was not working, not getting any exercise beyond pushing back from the table for another trip to the all-you-can-eat buffet. Those things, while delicious, are a siren's song drawing the ship of your arteries onto the hardened shores of plaque and hypertension.
That's the good news and the bad news combined. If I assume that this, 180 pounds, is approximately my equilibrium state, that's still a lot heavier than I want to weigh. I'd like to hold at something more like 170. I will have to get down to 170 and hold that, probably for a couple of years, before I can relax my vigilance a bit. You can change your equilibrium, the longer you hold a weight the more likely you are to retain it even when you stop paying attention. It just takes time.
But, and this is the very good news, this is my lowest post-weekend weight thus far. I didn't bounce very much.
In somewhat related news, our larger cat has lost a pound. She had it to lose, too, and seems to be doing a bit better with less mass to haul around. But she doesn't understand these things intellectually of course, and becomes very vocal at mealtimes. My previous cats have generally been indoor-outdoor animals, free to go outside if there was someone to open the door for them. They would prowl around and run off their food. That doesn't happen with these cats and while our elder cat remains lean, the younger one will wolf down whatever food is in her dish. This is an animal for whom the word "leftover" has no context.
That's the good news and the bad news combined. If I assume that this, 180 pounds, is approximately my equilibrium state, that's still a lot heavier than I want to weigh. I'd like to hold at something more like 170. I will have to get down to 170 and hold that, probably for a couple of years, before I can relax my vigilance a bit. You can change your equilibrium, the longer you hold a weight the more likely you are to retain it even when you stop paying attention. It just takes time.
But, and this is the very good news, this is my lowest post-weekend weight thus far. I didn't bounce very much.
In somewhat related news, our larger cat has lost a pound. She had it to lose, too, and seems to be doing a bit better with less mass to haul around. But she doesn't understand these things intellectually of course, and becomes very vocal at mealtimes. My previous cats have generally been indoor-outdoor animals, free to go outside if there was someone to open the door for them. They would prowl around and run off their food. That doesn't happen with these cats and while our elder cat remains lean, the younger one will wolf down whatever food is in her dish. This is an animal for whom the word "leftover" has no context.
Monday, June 9, 2014
A Handyman's Fidelity Crisis, and Day 35: 181
It might seem like I'm stalled at around the 180 mark, but I'm not too concerned. For instance, on Saturday morning the scale pegged at 179. I expect to see a little bit of bounce over the weekend, but now the week has begun and I pay attention again. Smaller meals, long walks around the block, maybe even lifting a few weights.
My workday was spent mostly on the roof of our north building, arguing with the disparate elements of a rooftop ventilator. This particular ventilator serves the dish room where used trays are returned after meals, and for whatever reason, all the clips that secured the "hat" that covers the top of the ventilator - and its mechanical bits - broke.
Tennessee isn't that windy, but it's windy enough. Evidently there was a big enough blow at some point that the hat parted company with the ventilator and I was certain it was gone. As it turned out it wasn't gone, the hat was just pretty hard to find, since it looks exactly like all the other rooftop ventilator hats, and when you have gigantic 800-gallon water heaters and their exhaust vents, 250-gallon water heaters with their exhaust vents, an exhaust hood for each and every restroom, assorted HVAC vents and other things, well, it isn't the featureless plain you might expect a roof to be.
Since the hat had been off the ventilator for a while, the vent motor was seized. That meant a new one. No problem, Fenco had an appropriate replacement for under $100. I've loved Johnstone for a long time but sometimes the prices of the parts and supplies just floors me. I know keeping a building up and running isn't free, but dang. Well, there are no motors like this to be had at this price from Johnstone. On top of that Fenco is literally just a few blocks away, whereas Johnstone is a few miles. Fenco looks better and better, especially when the closest motor Johnstone had to offer was over $200. Yipes, and hi, Fenco! It's not a no-name motor, it's a solid Mars and it went in pretty cleanly.
Eventually. I seem to have hit a wall with my common sense today. First I cast around on the ground to the west looking for the hat. Prevailing winds come out of the west around here, and of course the hat was to the east.
This was after I spent about a half-hour wandering around, first in the kitchen sizing up the big stock pots, then in the maintenance area looking at assorted large tubs, for something that could be called into service to replace the hat. If I ever have to replace it, I will be finding something to press into service; the price tag on the replacement hats that I could find - none of them right for my application - was bonkers and completely out of line with the item itself. But while I was holding up what looked like a likely candidate, wondering how it would hold up against sun and wind, I had my dope-slap moment and went back to look in the correct end of the roof. A-ha, and now we proceed.
Motor procured. No problem.
Gotta remove the pulley from the old motor. Okay, lever with a screw...dri....VER damn that thing is really on there. Give it a whack.
Give it another whack.
Say some bad words. I'm alone up here on the roof, who's going to know? Well, you do, now. But it's only abstract knowledge, nothing concrete, nothing witnessed. So we're cool.
Take the motor down through the hatch - no stair access here, it's a straight-up ladder and anything heavier than 20 pounds is burdensome - put it in the vise...whoops, won't fit in the vise.
Construct a vise arrangement to hold the motor suspended in a bucket, and now I can put a punch in the Vise-Grip and give it a proper whack. 48-oz. engineer's hammer, hardened steel punch. WHAM.
Many whacks later I whipped out the torch and tried heating, and further whacking.
*sigh*
Ace Hardware has been so conveniently thorough for my needs of late, and they have a newish location just up the road. Well, no pulleys there.
Quite a wide selection of pulleys at Northern Tool, but the juxtaposition of 1/2" bore and 2.5" diameter doesn't happen with what's in stock. Dang it.
I alternately love and hate Harbor Freight. It's like a Chinese grocery: a little dingy, a little chaotic, and half of what you see doesn't make any sense at all. But you get the feeling that an entire culture understands all of it, and you might enjoy purchasing some of it just to get a taste. The power tools are pretty obviously low-rent knockoffs, but the air tools are generally pretty reliable and some of the hand tools are solid. Sometimes you make a purchase and are pretty damned sorry you did. But other times you come away with a winner: my main digital multimeter, for instance, puts my original Craftsman multi to shame and only cost half as much.
I'm a solid nerd, by the way: I have a different multimeter for different tool bags, that's how big a tool hound I am.
But there are no motor pulleys to be had at Harbor Freight. A few sheaves for cables, but that's in the winch section and not the kind of pulley I need.
*sigh* Back to Fenco.
"Back again, huh?"
"Yeah."
"What'd you forget?"
"I didn't forget. I just can't get the pulley off and I've run out of bad words to try to jar it loose."
Of course Fenco had it. Of course the one they had was adjustable so I can dial in the exact diameter I want. Of course it was affordable, and nearby, and exactly what I needed. Of course it was. I had wandered away into the wilds of fickle retail, when the wholesale solidity I needed was a mere four blocks away from my office door the whole time.
*sigh*
I love you, Fenco. I'm sorry I was unfaithful.
My workday was spent mostly on the roof of our north building, arguing with the disparate elements of a rooftop ventilator. This particular ventilator serves the dish room where used trays are returned after meals, and for whatever reason, all the clips that secured the "hat" that covers the top of the ventilator - and its mechanical bits - broke.
Tennessee isn't that windy, but it's windy enough. Evidently there was a big enough blow at some point that the hat parted company with the ventilator and I was certain it was gone. As it turned out it wasn't gone, the hat was just pretty hard to find, since it looks exactly like all the other rooftop ventilator hats, and when you have gigantic 800-gallon water heaters and their exhaust vents, 250-gallon water heaters with their exhaust vents, an exhaust hood for each and every restroom, assorted HVAC vents and other things, well, it isn't the featureless plain you might expect a roof to be.
You can see how finding a replacement for something like that,
if it's gone, could be a little problematic.
Since the hat had been off the ventilator for a while, the vent motor was seized. That meant a new one. No problem, Fenco had an appropriate replacement for under $100. I've loved Johnstone for a long time but sometimes the prices of the parts and supplies just floors me. I know keeping a building up and running isn't free, but dang. Well, there are no motors like this to be had at this price from Johnstone. On top of that Fenco is literally just a few blocks away, whereas Johnstone is a few miles. Fenco looks better and better, especially when the closest motor Johnstone had to offer was over $200. Yipes, and hi, Fenco! It's not a no-name motor, it's a solid Mars and it went in pretty cleanly.
Eventually. I seem to have hit a wall with my common sense today. First I cast around on the ground to the west looking for the hat. Prevailing winds come out of the west around here, and of course the hat was to the east.
This was after I spent about a half-hour wandering around, first in the kitchen sizing up the big stock pots, then in the maintenance area looking at assorted large tubs, for something that could be called into service to replace the hat. If I ever have to replace it, I will be finding something to press into service; the price tag on the replacement hats that I could find - none of them right for my application - was bonkers and completely out of line with the item itself. But while I was holding up what looked like a likely candidate, wondering how it would hold up against sun and wind, I had my dope-slap moment and went back to look in the correct end of the roof. A-ha, and now we proceed.
Motor procured. No problem.
Gotta remove the pulley from the old motor. Okay, lever with a screw...dri....VER damn that thing is really on there. Give it a whack.
Give it another whack.
Say some bad words. I'm alone up here on the roof, who's going to know? Well, you do, now. But it's only abstract knowledge, nothing concrete, nothing witnessed. So we're cool.
Take the motor down through the hatch - no stair access here, it's a straight-up ladder and anything heavier than 20 pounds is burdensome - put it in the vise...whoops, won't fit in the vise.
Construct a vise arrangement to hold the motor suspended in a bucket, and now I can put a punch in the Vise-Grip and give it a proper whack. 48-oz. engineer's hammer, hardened steel punch. WHAM.
Many whacks later I whipped out the torch and tried heating, and further whacking.
*sigh*
Ace Hardware has been so conveniently thorough for my needs of late, and they have a newish location just up the road. Well, no pulleys there.
Quite a wide selection of pulleys at Northern Tool, but the juxtaposition of 1/2" bore and 2.5" diameter doesn't happen with what's in stock. Dang it.
I alternately love and hate Harbor Freight. It's like a Chinese grocery: a little dingy, a little chaotic, and half of what you see doesn't make any sense at all. But you get the feeling that an entire culture understands all of it, and you might enjoy purchasing some of it just to get a taste. The power tools are pretty obviously low-rent knockoffs, but the air tools are generally pretty reliable and some of the hand tools are solid. Sometimes you make a purchase and are pretty damned sorry you did. But other times you come away with a winner: my main digital multimeter, for instance, puts my original Craftsman multi to shame and only cost half as much.
I'm a solid nerd, by the way: I have a different multimeter for different tool bags, that's how big a tool hound I am.
But there are no motor pulleys to be had at Harbor Freight. A few sheaves for cables, but that's in the winch section and not the kind of pulley I need.
*sigh* Back to Fenco.
"Back again, huh?"
"Yeah."
"What'd you forget?"
"I didn't forget. I just can't get the pulley off and I've run out of bad words to try to jar it loose."
Of course Fenco had it. Of course the one they had was adjustable so I can dial in the exact diameter I want. Of course it was affordable, and nearby, and exactly what I needed. Of course it was. I had wandered away into the wilds of fickle retail, when the wholesale solidity I needed was a mere four blocks away from my office door the whole time.
*sigh*
I love you, Fenco. I'm sorry I was unfaithful.
Friday, May 30, 2014
A Real American Speaks UP, and Day 25 : 181
Stepped on the scales and saw the needle come to rest at 181 pounds. Not bad!
I don't watch ESPN so I really don't know who Stephen A. Smith is, but he's in the news. He's in the news partly because he tells the (sports-related) news, and partly because LA Clippers owner Donald Sterling is in the news. This is a toppling dominoes story, and how we wind up at this juncture isn't really the point.
This juncture, where Stephen A. Smith hauls off and shares a big ol' piece of his mind, is the point. And it is brilliant.
In this video, I don't see a black man. I don't see a racist, a commentator, a flak, anything like that. I see an American of the highest order.
I have nothing further to say. This is an act I cannot follow without detracting from it. I salute you Mr. Smith, and wish you nothing but the best.
I don't watch ESPN so I really don't know who Stephen A. Smith is, but he's in the news. He's in the news partly because he tells the (sports-related) news, and partly because LA Clippers owner Donald Sterling is in the news. This is a toppling dominoes story, and how we wind up at this juncture isn't really the point.
This juncture, where Stephen A. Smith hauls off and shares a big ol' piece of his mind, is the point. And it is brilliant.
In this video, I don't see a black man. I don't see a racist, a commentator, a flak, anything like that. I see an American of the highest order.
I have nothing further to say. This is an act I cannot follow without detracting from it. I salute you Mr. Smith, and wish you nothing but the best.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
"Joe the Plumber," and Day 23: 183.5
See that ".5" on my weight? I went up since the last report. Except I went up further than that, and am back down to only half a pound above where I was. And this morning I walked a good long trek from Sweetie's office to downtown K-town, and on to my office. Yes, that's the long way. It's still cool in the mornings and the city is really quite attractive while it's still waking up.
Lately in the news we're seeing this kid, one Elliot Rodger, who up and killed a bunch of people before taking his own life. Frankly, I don't think anyone who really knew Rodger was especially surprised that this happened.
This much of it makes sense, if it can make any sense: emotionally disturbed individual becomes fixated on person or persons as the root cause of his assorted problems. True or not, this is an understandable paradigm in American culture, and we refer to people who cause problems as "bad guys." Unfortunately Rodger's mistaken notion was the women in general and the popular, attractive people who might have been his social peers in particular were the "bad guys" in his life, and he whipped out his multiple legally-purchased weapons and started killing the "bad guys."
If I go read about the "bad guys," these essentially blameless people who were killed simply for not finding an antisocial, erratic loner attractive, I will probably wind up very very sad. And some of them weren't even people Rodger wanted to be attracted to, some were just his roomies. I guess he though they were in the way.
What's Joe the Plumber got to do with this? You might remember the guy: asking Obama a question during a campaign rally, Samuel "Joe the Plumber" Wurzelbacher was the stalking horse that became an icon of the Republican party and 15-minute media darling of the John and Sarah Show. It's weird that the guy, even now, is more recognizable under the "Joe the Plumber" nickname than under his own.
Also, he is not now nor has he ever been a licensed plumber, even though he worked as a plumber at the time. That was a bit embarrassing, and may have been at least part of what cost him his bid for Ohio Representative in 2012.
Anyway, in an open letter published on BarbWire, Wurzelbacher had this to say: "As harsh as this sounds, your dead kids don't trump my Constitutional rights."
Wow.
Strictly speaking this is indeed true. He tries - and fails - to soften this amazingly crass blow with words of comfort that come out sounding pretty damned hollow. After a line like that, maybe it would be better to think better about the whole open letter idea, and maybe not send it. Oh well, too late now.
And both the parents who call for a serious re-examination of gun rights, and Wurzelbacher in his moment of utter head-slap obtuseness, are right. I think it's high time we reconsider just how easy it should be for people to have guns, and until such time as the laws are changed, no number of dead kids and mourning parents will override the rights of the American people. People who aren't mourning also have to have their say. Rights can, and have, be changed.
I am approaching the point where some of the hand wringing makes sense. "When guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns." Well, that may or may not be true, but the fact that so many people have free and easy access to guns doesn't seem to have done the crime rate any favors, so maybe it's time we take another look at how freely people can get guns. The point of the 2nd Amendment was to help ensure the then nascent US Government not decide to take up any dictatorial practices. When the people you're attempting to oppress have weapons of their own, oppression takes on a certain deadly risk and tends to die young.
But the other systems in place to keep the government from running away with itself are pretty effective. I suspect the Damoclean sword of an armed populace might be overkill at this point in our history. But even more overkill is the capacity to own more guns than you have hands, more ammo than needed to utterly puree the legal hunting limit in your locale, and being able to buy anything more lethal than a toenail clipper when you're seeing a basketball team's worth of therapists and still walk around loose among an unsuspecting neighborhood.
How hard would it be to just start up a database, open to all mental health professionals, and be able to drop in names and SSNs of people who seem just a bit too edgy for gun ownership? "Warning, dangerous nutcase, no guns for this one. No machetes or even toenail clippers, either." A few quick lines on a secure web page that is accessible to mental health professionals and the people in charge of the background checks. "Whoops, sorry, no bazooka for you."
Granted, the rollout of the Obamacare website doesn't raise my hopes at all for government-operated databases, but you never know, maybe they can contract the job to some 18-year-old, set him up with a six pack of Pepsis and get things done.
Unless some nutjob comes along and mows him down, too.
So far I think the most positive outcome of all this is it should put Joe the Plumber's future Congressional aspirations on permanent standby. So that's not all bad.
Lately in the news we're seeing this kid, one Elliot Rodger, who up and killed a bunch of people before taking his own life. Frankly, I don't think anyone who really knew Rodger was especially surprised that this happened.
This much of it makes sense, if it can make any sense: emotionally disturbed individual becomes fixated on person or persons as the root cause of his assorted problems. True or not, this is an understandable paradigm in American culture, and we refer to people who cause problems as "bad guys." Unfortunately Rodger's mistaken notion was the women in general and the popular, attractive people who might have been his social peers in particular were the "bad guys" in his life, and he whipped out his multiple legally-purchased weapons and started killing the "bad guys."
If I go read about the "bad guys," these essentially blameless people who were killed simply for not finding an antisocial, erratic loner attractive, I will probably wind up very very sad. And some of them weren't even people Rodger wanted to be attracted to, some were just his roomies. I guess he though they were in the way.
What's Joe the Plumber got to do with this? You might remember the guy: asking Obama a question during a campaign rally, Samuel "Joe the Plumber" Wurzelbacher was the stalking horse that became an icon of the Republican party and 15-minute media darling of the John and Sarah Show. It's weird that the guy, even now, is more recognizable under the "Joe the Plumber" nickname than under his own.
Also, he is not now nor has he ever been a licensed plumber, even though he worked as a plumber at the time. That was a bit embarrassing, and may have been at least part of what cost him his bid for Ohio Representative in 2012.
Anyway, in an open letter published on BarbWire, Wurzelbacher had this to say: "As harsh as this sounds, your dead kids don't trump my Constitutional rights."
Wow.
Strictly speaking this is indeed true. He tries - and fails - to soften this amazingly crass blow with words of comfort that come out sounding pretty damned hollow. After a line like that, maybe it would be better to think better about the whole open letter idea, and maybe not send it. Oh well, too late now.
And both the parents who call for a serious re-examination of gun rights, and Wurzelbacher in his moment of utter head-slap obtuseness, are right. I think it's high time we reconsider just how easy it should be for people to have guns, and until such time as the laws are changed, no number of dead kids and mourning parents will override the rights of the American people. People who aren't mourning also have to have their say. Rights can, and have, be changed.
I am approaching the point where some of the hand wringing makes sense. "When guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns." Well, that may or may not be true, but the fact that so many people have free and easy access to guns doesn't seem to have done the crime rate any favors, so maybe it's time we take another look at how freely people can get guns. The point of the 2nd Amendment was to help ensure the then nascent US Government not decide to take up any dictatorial practices. When the people you're attempting to oppress have weapons of their own, oppression takes on a certain deadly risk and tends to die young.
But the other systems in place to keep the government from running away with itself are pretty effective. I suspect the Damoclean sword of an armed populace might be overkill at this point in our history. But even more overkill is the capacity to own more guns than you have hands, more ammo than needed to utterly puree the legal hunting limit in your locale, and being able to buy anything more lethal than a toenail clipper when you're seeing a basketball team's worth of therapists and still walk around loose among an unsuspecting neighborhood.
How hard would it be to just start up a database, open to all mental health professionals, and be able to drop in names and SSNs of people who seem just a bit too edgy for gun ownership? "Warning, dangerous nutcase, no guns for this one. No machetes or even toenail clippers, either." A few quick lines on a secure web page that is accessible to mental health professionals and the people in charge of the background checks. "Whoops, sorry, no bazooka for you."
Granted, the rollout of the Obamacare website doesn't raise my hopes at all for government-operated databases, but you never know, maybe they can contract the job to some 18-year-old, set him up with a six pack of Pepsis and get things done.
Unless some nutjob comes along and mows him down, too.
So far I think the most positive outcome of all this is it should put Joe the Plumber's future Congressional aspirations on permanent standby. So that's not all bad.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Salt Sugar Fat by Michael Moss, and Day 17: 183
Stepped on the scales and rang up 183 pounds. That's a modest 6 pounds in two weeks. I'm trying to be more aware of my portion sizes and what's actually in my food, plus doing a fair amount of walking.
Sweetie is down a few pounds as well, and finding, even at this early stage, a surprising amount of extra room inside her clothes.
"Bummer," I said. "Your pants are too big."
"As bummers go, I don't mind it."
Another thing that's helping me with keeping a better eye on what I'm eating is the relatively new book Salt Sugar Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us by Michael Moss. I heard of this while listening to NPR, listening to an interview with the author, and even in what little I was able to catch before having to go on to other things, what I heard was intriguing.
I've only been reading the book for a few days now, and even so I've already picked up on a few important things: the food industry is perfectly aware of what kind of psychological effects food can have on us, and they exploit those effects to make us want more.
It's the most cynical thing I've ever seen. It's right there with the tobacco giants, insisting time after time that the clinical trials regarding the possible dangers of tobacco use are "inconclusive," even as they're turning up the nicotine content of their cigarettes to strengthen the addictive qualities.
We all are pretty aware of the addictive qualities of things like narcotics, alcohol, and nicotine. What we aren't as aware of, due to the sheer ubiquity of it, are the addictive qualities of such simple things as salt, sugar and fat.
There is a "bliss point" for sugar, a level - actually it's a range of levels that fluctuates depending on the presence of other cues, but for the sake of brevity right now we'll stick with the term "point" - at which sugar has the maximum effect without going overboard. The insidious thing about it, though, is that sugar isn't just satisfying. It can also create cravings for more sugar, for more food. And once you've gotten used to so much sugar, the one craving it really induces above all others is the craving for more sugar.
Here's a little tidbit I never imagined before: the body's sense of satiation isn't triggered by calories you drink. You load up on food and it isn't long before you feel full and satisfied. That sensation of satisfaction, however, will not be affected much one way or the other by a soda. If you're having a Coke with your meal, there's a bunch of calories that didn't register, and were taken in whether you felt you needed them or not.
Needless to say, I've radically cut back on how much soda I drink anymore. I've had one since I started watching my weight, and I had already been ramping down before I started. That last Coke took me all day to drink, and the first sip tasted pretty weird.
Now all I have to do is cut down on my coffee. That would probably have a pretty strong effect on my blood pressure. It's really my blood pressure more than anything that is inspiring this weight loss, but I imagine lightening the load on my knees and hips can't be a bad thing either.
This is me into the book only a couple of chapters, and already the clear sense of conspiracy and cynicism has had me muttering oaths under my breath, marveling in amazed horror at what we have permitted the food industry giants to systematically do to us.
Case in point: Howard Moskowitz, a food industry researcher, is quoted in an interview in Salt Sugar Fat as saying, as a recent graduate from Harvard and looking for work, "I didn't have the luxury to be a moral creature," talking about his role in discovering the mechanism by which food cravings can manifest, and then developing ways to exploit those cravings to retain and expand food product markets. This tells me that if he didn't have the luxury of being moral, then what was he being? That only leaves something other than moral.
I wasn't raised to believe that morality was optional. It isn't a luxury.
I will probably report more on this book as I get further into it, assuming I haven't snapped and started picketing whichever major food manufacturer is closest before I get to the end.
Sweetie is down a few pounds as well, and finding, even at this early stage, a surprising amount of extra room inside her clothes.
"Bummer," I said. "Your pants are too big."
"As bummers go, I don't mind it."
Another thing that's helping me with keeping a better eye on what I'm eating is the relatively new book Salt Sugar Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us by Michael Moss. I heard of this while listening to NPR, listening to an interview with the author, and even in what little I was able to catch before having to go on to other things, what I heard was intriguing.
I've only been reading the book for a few days now, and even so I've already picked up on a few important things: the food industry is perfectly aware of what kind of psychological effects food can have on us, and they exploit those effects to make us want more.
It's the most cynical thing I've ever seen. It's right there with the tobacco giants, insisting time after time that the clinical trials regarding the possible dangers of tobacco use are "inconclusive," even as they're turning up the nicotine content of their cigarettes to strengthen the addictive qualities.
We all are pretty aware of the addictive qualities of things like narcotics, alcohol, and nicotine. What we aren't as aware of, due to the sheer ubiquity of it, are the addictive qualities of such simple things as salt, sugar and fat.
There is a "bliss point" for sugar, a level - actually it's a range of levels that fluctuates depending on the presence of other cues, but for the sake of brevity right now we'll stick with the term "point" - at which sugar has the maximum effect without going overboard. The insidious thing about it, though, is that sugar isn't just satisfying. It can also create cravings for more sugar, for more food. And once you've gotten used to so much sugar, the one craving it really induces above all others is the craving for more sugar.
Here's a little tidbit I never imagined before: the body's sense of satiation isn't triggered by calories you drink. You load up on food and it isn't long before you feel full and satisfied. That sensation of satisfaction, however, will not be affected much one way or the other by a soda. If you're having a Coke with your meal, there's a bunch of calories that didn't register, and were taken in whether you felt you needed them or not.
Needless to say, I've radically cut back on how much soda I drink anymore. I've had one since I started watching my weight, and I had already been ramping down before I started. That last Coke took me all day to drink, and the first sip tasted pretty weird.
Now all I have to do is cut down on my coffee. That would probably have a pretty strong effect on my blood pressure. It's really my blood pressure more than anything that is inspiring this weight loss, but I imagine lightening the load on my knees and hips can't be a bad thing either.
This is me into the book only a couple of chapters, and already the clear sense of conspiracy and cynicism has had me muttering oaths under my breath, marveling in amazed horror at what we have permitted the food industry giants to systematically do to us.
Case in point: Howard Moskowitz, a food industry researcher, is quoted in an interview in Salt Sugar Fat as saying, as a recent graduate from Harvard and looking for work, "I didn't have the luxury to be a moral creature," talking about his role in discovering the mechanism by which food cravings can manifest, and then developing ways to exploit those cravings to retain and expand food product markets. This tells me that if he didn't have the luxury of being moral, then what was he being? That only leaves something other than moral.
I wasn't raised to believe that morality was optional. It isn't a luxury.
I will probably report more on this book as I get further into it, assuming I haven't snapped and started picketing whichever major food manufacturer is closest before I get to the end.
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