Wrote this almost two years ago. And maybe I am getting ahead of myself by looking back. Mom is gone. And my next birthday is not yet here. Egg nog and Southern Comfort are calling my name and this is the latest I have “ever” abstained. – JDW
You Should Have Seen Her Collection of Christmas Sweaters.
I was raised, I don’t know who might have taught me this, that holidays are celebrated at the discretion of the oldest female in the family. So, on Christmas Eve, we drove to celebrate the Lord’s birth – and my own – by visiting my Mom at The Old Folks’ Home.
I like to take her out, different food, different scenery. We drove south to Venice, to the Cedar Reef Fish Camp, which is, unfortunately, set in a large strip mall, across from Wal-Mart. But I already knew that. We weren’t there for the view, but for the oyster baskets. The mother and the wife talked about the quality of those oysters for days. The hush puppies, not so much. (Myakka River Oyster Bar has the best.)
I began my meal with a bowl of alligator chowder, washed down with a Barking Squirrel beer.
At 2:15 p.m., exactly sixty-seven years since the moment of my birth, I looked across the table and “Innocently” asked Kim, the waitress, if they offered a special FREE treat for children’s birthdays.
Ha! We got a key lime creme brûlée with three spoons. And, to be honest, dessert was too rich even shared by a trio of sweet teeth.
Here is where I meant to share my horoscope from December 24th. I cut it out of the paper, saved it, even read the clipping to my wife.
She thought the part about me being “highly organized” to be especially amusing. So, no one will be surprised – except perhaps the astrologist – to learn I misplaced said horoscope. But I did find this other one, which I think I might actually like a little better.
IF TODAY IS YOUR BIRTHDAY:
“Your birthday chart indicates the more effort you make, the more rewards you will enjoy over the coming 12 months. If you can get over your fear of failure, it’s quite possible you will end the year famous!”
To be honest, I’d rather be rich than famous. I’d even rather be highly organized.
Fail? I think not. I am not even afraid of sharing my latest fitness concept: PLEASURING YOURSELF.
(Actual conversation. Wife: You are not going to use that as a title, are you? Husband: I thought it was kinda catchy myself. Wife: Okay, you’re the writer. Husband: And you, my love, have a dirty mind.)
Pleasuring Yourself seems a catchy term, attention-grabbing and memorable.
A memory was what got me started. Maybe twenty years ago, maybe more, when I was between jobs, homes, women, cars and money, all at once, I was staying at my hideout. My hideout was the rural estate of an old bachelor buddy of mine, a buddy with an eight-figure wallet. We were lean, we were fit and we were more than a little tired of it. Once a week, for excitement, we’d drive a long way into a small town, where we’d purchase a case or two of obscure foreign beers and a few quarts of Ben & Jerry’s. (I have actually met both Ben & Jerry, but that’s another story.)
“Seems to me,” my buddy explained as we drove off in his unwashed Volvo station wagon, “there is little of value in being rich, if you can’t have beer and ice cream.”
“Damn straight,” I agreed. “Even better when shared with the less fortunate.”
And now I have a wife, a home, a car & the bills are paid. I am, age-adjusted, lean and fit again. And about to get leaner and fitter still. I am aimed at that target like a winner in Hunger Games. But the last five pounds are always the toughest to cut. And then I remembered my buddy…
For the last month, I have been eating like it is Thanksgiving and Christmas. My mouth and tummy, they took a holiday. There were cookies and spinach dip and obscure foreign beers and white chocolate coffee creamer and cheese-stuffed pizza and crackers and ice cream. Oh, and egg nog. Lots and lots of egg nog. But that’s not the fitness concept.
The fitness concept is this… I took a break, I gained maybe five pounds – while maintaining my exercise routine – I accepted my weakness, my frailty and I pleasured myself.
And in the end, I was reminded how much I enjoy eating healthy, how much I enjoy feeling lean & fit. And now I am ready to get tough again. I am freshly renewed with the desire to lose those difficult last five pounds. Losing the first five will be, if you pardon the expression, a piece of cake. And that will get my dieting mojo some momentum. I have no desire to eat “crap”, no matter how tasty or creamy. (By the way, egg nog is binding.) And every day I will feel light and leaner and fitter.
I will go further, faster, more often.
And that will be a pleasure.