I had an epiphany. I have them pretty often now that I’m in full-on Geezer mode. I frequently have inspirational thoughts while eating pie when the flaky crust and sugary filling piques my blood sugar, which would make it a “pi-epiphany”. I have a theory that I’m most creative when my AIC is over 6.8, but more about that later.
Here’s my brainstorm: I have been on a diet pretty much all of my life. Scientist would say that I have a BMI (Body Mass Index) that’s too large. My Grandma would say I’m healthy. I’m so healthy I can’t see my toes. Over my lifetime I’ve probably lost a ton of fat and hair, or more.
Here’s the thing; I’m still fat. If I hadn’t dieted I’d be fat. Maybe I’d be so fat I’d be dead, but then I wouldn’t be here to talk about it.
When I was about 13 and discovered girls (they’d been unknown to science before then) I decided I wasn’t good enough at my current weight so I lost pounds. As I recall, I lost weight by cutting down on the bacon and Captain Crunch cereal. I lost the weight but I still wasn’t good enough for the girls, so in retrospect my efforts were wasted. I was effectively planning a party nobody was going to attend, so to speak.
As a teen I didn’t have to lose weight to get in the military because I had a “job” that consumed calories via “forced labor”. I entered the Air Force slim and gave that up pretty quickly. When I discovered SOS and never-ending donuts, bacon and sausage I forgot about losing weight. Then the Air Force leadership decided to lead.
Some sadist decided that Air Force mechanics had to maintain weight and fitness standards. It was all part of the “fly-fight-win” junk the ne’er-do-well officers came up with. Anyone with half a Twinkie knows the real mission was “eat, nap, repeat”. Anyway, due to the officers meddling in grown-ups business, we had to start weighing in. The standards were ridiculous. I spent a full week before each weigh-in preparing. I went to the base gym for my special workout. Each BMI reduction cycle was 15 minutes on the stair stepper, 15 minutes in the sauna, and 15 minutes watching the ladies aerobics class. The I repeated each cycle until the gym closed. I could lose 15 pounds in a week.
We were also allowed a 3 pound deduction for our uniforms. I whittled my uniform down to 2 pounds by cutting my pockets out, wearing thin socks, and leaving the t-shirt, belt, and lunch box at home. It was all very scientific. It only took 2 days, 3 visits to the chow hall, and a gallon of sweet tea to gain it all back. I figure over the span of my career I lost the equivalent of a larger person or three.
Speaking of losing larger persons, take my ex-wives. Please. Part of my fitness scheme reflected my marital status. When I thought the relationship was going well, I gained weight well. When the relationship was going poorly, I gained weight poorly. After every divorce, of which there were several, I lost about 50 pounds. I didn’t really plan that weight loss, it just happened. Now that I think about it, maybe it was subconscious. I spent a lot of money on lawyers, so maybe I subconsciously compensated by not buying food. Yeah, that’s it. As a matter of fact, I bet that my current Body Mass Index reflects that I’m secure in my marriage. Because I’m secure in my marriage I don’t have to pay a lawyer and I can buy the good vittles.
Maybe I’m off base there (pun intended). Each time I retire, which currently totals 3 times, my income goes down but my weight goes up. Now I’m really confused. It’s almost like my activity level influences my weight, even though that can’t be true. I recently lost 75 pounds of which I recovered about 30 pounds, so far. During that flux, I’ve stayed active. I still brew my coffee and work the remote control with abandon. I still walk all of the way to the truck when I go to the diner. It just doesn’t make sense.
Perhaps I have one of those weird metabolisms that convert unused food energy to fat. I bet my genome is set to “astronomically high BMI” so that I can survive worldwide famines and messy divorces. Maybe, just maybe, I’m like I’m supposed to be. I’m “working as advertized”.
Now I feel better and can end this Body Mass Insanity. I can concentrate on more important things, like pie and Netflix.
Fini.
Catch Charlie daily wherever fine pies are sold. Stayed tuned for his upcoming Podcast, “The life of pie”, or “My most unforgettable cobbler”.
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