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UNBELIEVABLE!!!

WAY TO GO…YAY, ME!!!

140.0 !!!!!

Okay.  Ten minutes have passed…which (in my humble opinion) is quite long enough to celebrate this current weight loss victory.

MY NEW WEIGHT GOAL:  BY DECEMBER 25, 2020…drum roll please…is…

139.0

Now…I know there are “people out there” who may think that losing one pound in approximately 25 days is a ridiculous goal…but…

I would beg to disagree.

For all the countless people in this world…achieving a goal of any kind is awesome…

But if you are a person (like me) who struggles with weight loss or weight gain…you know, agree and understand the impact of losing just one pound…

…and more importantly…keeping that one pound “gone”.

The irony of this most recent move from 140.6 to 140.0…is that I can’t figure out how I did it…

Oh.  Wait…  🙂

“I just ate less…among other things…”

Have a nice day…

 

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“139”…no change…

but still hopeful…

My new media entry on the opening page of my blog  is not meant to be pessimistic…

But rather…optimistic in that it shows spaces for possibilities…like if I thought really hard….I could fill them in and even add more!! 

Not that there was a choice mind you…but still…

It’s Friday, October 30, 2020 and in a few short days we will have a new president/leader in this country…OR if not…I will begin having two candy bars after dinner and resume smoking…because…well…why the fuck not…life will be over…relatively speaking.

However…closing here on a positive note…I tried (BECAUSE I COULDN’T JUST LEAVE IT ALONE, COULD I???…) a trial run on our freeway system anticipating a return trip to the doctor’s office later in the week and MISSED the exit sign… “11C…11C…11C!!!!!!!”

I took 11B…

And…ended up incorrectly following the “light rail” construction site detour.  JFC…

It was bad.  I won’t lie to you…but it could have been worse.  I could have ended up in Wisconsin…

 This would have broken most people…but not me…

I obviously survived.  Somehow I knew that my life was not going to end…either literally or metaphorically…on some fucked up freeway system in the heartland of America.

See?  I filled in line one already…

Have a nice day…

 

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“Sometimes the truth can be

so boring…”

Chapter 5

“What’s your name?” Franny asked biker #2…giving him her customary, blazing smile…which suited her fiery red hair and dazzling green eyes.  Franny was something to behold…and most everyone did.

“Bob Nelson”, he answered quite politely.  “What’s yours?”

“Cynthia Zimmerman.  You can call me ‘Zimmer’ or ‘Zim’ if you like…”said Franny Sherman who…being five feet eight inches tall…found it ridiculously easy to sling her long, slim leg over the seat of the bike and settle herself down behind Bob..

Franny getting on his bike was about as easy as her almost never telling the guys she would randomly meet in bars her real name.  It was just her thing.

At some point either during the evening or at a later encounter…she would tell them the truth…if she felt like it.

You wouldn’t know it to look at her but…Franny could be…complicated

I looked up at my guy.  I could see he was pretty tall even though he was sitting on his Harley-Davidson…tall with tan muscular arms that flexed every time he revved up the Harley’s engine.  Okay…

I gave him my best smile and said, “So…what’s your name?”

Instead of answering, he moved his boot and flipped down a little chrome peg from the side of his bike.

“If you put your foot on that, you should be able to swing your leg over.”

I paused only for a second and then said super confidently…and…sprightly…

“Oh, I know…I’ve ridden before…hundreds of times.  In fact, my older brother, Owen, has a Harley-Davidson…not like this one exactly…but still a Harley.”

Point of fact:  I had never ever ridden a motorcycle before and I did not have a brother named Owen.  But occasionally I stretched the truth a little…but only if absolutely necessary.

I put my right foot on the little peg and then paused…casually looking around for something to grab so I could pull myself up and over and onto the seat.

I wasn’t sure if I should grab…you know…him.

At five feet three inches tall…I did not have the ability or the agility to easily sling my leg over the bike’s seat as Franny had done.

He looked at me for a second…kind of waiting…and then asked me the oddest question.

“So then.  You do know how to be a ‘passenger’ on a motorcycle…right?”

I glanced to the left and I could see Bob talking to Franny and gesturing a lot.

Franny was listening and nodding in acknowledgement.  I couldn’t really hear what they were talking about…Bob kept revving his bike engine.  I looked back at my guy.

“Absolutely!  I’m good!  I will be the perfect passenger.  You will have no problems with me at all.”

Words were coming out of my mouth that made absolutely no sense whatsoever…not even to me.

“No problems?…

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“Sometimes the truth can be

so boring…”

Chapter 10

But…wait!  Hold on!  Bob had said a “restaurant”…which…’by definition’…was absolutely not “a cheap dive bar with naked, dancing ladies, an opium den in the back and  a ‘neon sign flashing XXX’s over the front door”.

A “restaurant” was generally known as a place where families come to eat and families usually meant adults and children…so there.

I smiled and took a deep, calming breath.  No jail time for Cooper Malone today.  Awesome!!

I’ll order a Coke, I thought.  I love Coke.  Maybe I’ll order 2 Cokes…or a Pepsi.  Pepsi is a good choice too.

Let everyone else drink beer and flash their fucking ID’s all over the place.  “I’ll have a Coke…please.”

I planned the dialog in my head as we approached the town.

Opening Scene:  Restaurant interior…Cooper speaks confidently to the waitress…

“You know, I don’t think I’m in the mood for a beer.  I think I’ll have a Coke…” (and then all really polite-like) “with extra ice, please…”

The extra ice makes it really believable.  Right?  Right.

Like I could have a beer if I wanted to…but I don’t want to.  I am over 21 but…I just don’t want to drink beer…right now…today…even though I could…if I wanted.  Fade out…

And ‘former best friend’ Franny had better not say one damn word or there will be no “Roger encounter” for her at The Friendly when we get back.

That settled…I let my mind concentrate on Hank.  He looked older than either Franny or me…maybe about 25?  I wonder what he did for a living?

I knew for sure he was cute.  Oh yeah…he was cute all right and pretty damn sexy…he also had a kind of presence, not an attitude really, but something else…whatever it was…I liked it.

As we pulled up to the “Three Oaks Restaurant”, I noticed a family of four sitting by the front window.  Mom.  Dad.  Two little girls with pigtails…maybe 8 and 10.

Neither of the little girls were slugging down beers.  Not that they would be…of course!

“Settle down, Cooper.”  I said sternly to myself…as my thoughts ran crazily roughshod over any sensibilities that I may have had when this day had started.

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“Sometimes the truth can be

so boring…”

Chapter 13

I apologized profusely to sweet, young Nan…who had turned bright red but…had generously accepted my apologies…

And…after also apologizing to everyone else at the table and pleading temporary insanity…I quickly opened my menu and then slapped it shut.  I was ready.

Franny was still looking at hers and also occasionally peeking over the menu at me.

I gently cleared my throat a little…not to hurry her or anything…but…I did want her to speak first…

It was “my scene”…and even though she didn’t know it…she had the opening line to this little drama playing out in my mind.

Franny looked up from the menu and said…”What are you getting, Coop”

Yes!  I was “Center Stage”…

I glanced briefly at the menu again…just for show…and then I said, ever so kindly and politely to Nan, “I don’t feel like having a beer.  I’ll have a Coke…with lots of ice, please…and a chicken sandwich with fries.”

Then I handed Nan my menu.  I was so pleased with myself.  I looked over at Franny for her reaction.

Her mouth had fallen open slightly in surprise at my clever move…or maybe (okay…probably) because…without really meaning to…I had given my order to Nan using a heavy (and completely phony) Southern accent…a la Blanche DuBois from “A Streetcar Named Desire”…my favorite movie…

“I’ll have the same as her,” Franny said…pausing slightly and then smiling.  “Except…I do feel like having a beer.  I’ll have a bottle of Grain Belt with a glass, please.”

“My dad will have to check your IDs before he can serve you guys any beer.  He’ll be right over.”  Nan picked up the menus and headed toward the bar.

Feeling like I’d climbed Mt. Everest in the middle of a raging blizzard…with my oxygen tanks long since depleted…I leaned back against the booth.

I put my tanned hands on the table and admired my new Revlon Orange Blossom nail polish that I’d purchased yesterday at Larson’s Drug Store.

Taking a deep, relaxing breath I smiled across the table at Franny…and Bob.

“I’m hungrier than I thought!”  I said…with not a hint of a Southern accent…”I hope the food’s good.”

It never once occurred to me that we were sitting here with two strange young men…about whom we knew absolutely nothing.

Somehow it just seemed natural and perfectly fine.

I turned to ask Hank what he did for a living.  He was pulling his wallet out of his jeans’ pocket so he could show his driver’s license to the bartender who was headed our way.

My smiling eyes fell down to his hands.  They were even more tan than mine…

Except for a little band of pure white on the third finger of his left hand…you know…the ring finger…

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INTRODUCING…

“The Johnsons”

“Where the Simpsons meet the Sopranos…sort of…”

Chapter One

It was a bitter, cold December night in Minnesota…and even though I was not yet born…I remember very clearly every detail of that exciting winter evening because…

…my mother was an authentic genius with a tested IQ of 171 and could correctly remember absolutely everything that had ever happened to her and…

…because my father was a devilishly clever storyteller who could weave a tale that kept you listening…with your mouth hanging open…for hours.

Sometimes…in the middle of one of his stories that took place during my “non-remembered early life”…I would be holding my breath until my mom would gently tug one of my pigtails and say, “Lottie…don’t worry…you don’t die!”

So…as this particular story goes…it was on that cold December night when my “35 1/2 weeks” pregnant mother pulled a gun on a very nice policeman…who “as they so often do”…was just trying to help.

But…let’s begin at the beginning…shall we?

The 23-pound, golden brown Thanksgiving Day turkey had not yet even been carved…when Clive Johnson and his brainy and beautiful wife Gee (as in “Gee Whiz)…announced to all family and friends who had gathered together in Clive and Gee’s tiny  apartment…to celebrate this most beloved holiday event…that they would be moving the following week from their cozy but crowded one bedroom apartment with their adorable, chubby seven-year-old son Durwood and faithful hunting dog named Duke.

Worth noting:  My father did not hunt, had never hunted and would never hunt in the future…but had met some guy in a bar (of course he did) and the guy had been trying to sell his 6-month old purebred hunting dog…for a ridiculously cheap price.

Now my father really loved a good deal…but as he later told Gee, “His eyes just got to me, honey.”  And I’m pretty sure he meant the dog’s eyes…”

When I was able to talk…I called Duke “Thido Thia” for some strange, unknown reason.

 

 

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Chapter Two

Our new home was an older two-story, with a screened-in front porch, a screened-in back porch, a couple of bedrooms upstairs…a nice back yard…a scattering of trees and a single car garage.

I drive by it occasionally…the screened-in front porch is still there…the now magnificent Bur Oak tree in the front yard is still there…and I’m sure the bullet…by now deeply embedded in its formidable trunk…is still there as well…

Because my father worked nights delivering oil for Midwestern Oil and Gas Company, he decided it would be a really great idea for Gee to have a gun…so she could protect herself when he wasn’t there.

Clive wasn’t exactly sure what Gee needed protection from…but still…a gun sounded like a great idea.  My father…as I was to later learn…quite often had a lot of really “great” ideas…and this particular idea was prompted by the unexpected opportunity to purchase above mentioned weapon…very, very cheap.

One afternoon while Clive was perched on his favorite stool at “Jimmy’s Dew Drop Inn” some rummy wino lurched in the front door waving a silver, six-shooter gun…visualize a ‘cowboy’ gun…yelling “Ten Bucks!! Ten Bucks!!”

Of course, everyone in “Jimmy’s” ducked because they thought the guy was there to rob the place…even though as they collectively reflected later…they all thought it was odd that he was demanding such a weirdly low amount.

Clive, however, did not duck but instead turned on his stool and said, “I’ll give you $5.00 for it, Scotty.  Does it have bullets?”

My father…as I was to also later learn…seemed to know an awful lot of people…

 

 

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133.8!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT…I’m on this.

I realize now that I had forgotten to allow for the “X” Factor” when I was doing my  recent “Hershey” candy bar research…you know…the research that almost left me blind???  (What kind of scientist am I for heaven’s sake?) …

(Well, Tina…you are the “I Am Not a Scientist” kind).

I don’t know exactly what the hell the “X” Factor” is…I may have been partially blind at that point during my research…however…

It is possible that I am the “X Factor”…which would make sense since I have now discovered (I WORK SO HARD FOR THIS DAMN BLOG!!) that the definition of “X Factor” is:

“Telling yourself what you want to hear (or finding facts…however outrageous on Google…((I LOVE YOU, GOOGLE))!!!!) so you can feel really good right now…but will later come to realize that perhaps those ‘facts’ were wrong and that you are a completely idiotic person and you better now stop doing whatever you are doing to get yourself to this point (where you do not want to be)…like…

…RIGHT NOW.”*

*This definition might be slightly flawed…or maybe a little incorrect…or possibly skewered a tad…and…’bat-shit crazy’ will also work here.

Have a nice day…

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Well…that was perhaps…

THE dumbest idea I have ever had!

 133.2!!!!!!!!!!

And trust me…I have had some righteously, colossal dumb ideas.

WAIT!  HOLD ON!  It appears that the dumb idea was so dumb it never made it into this blog.  Well.  I will correct that…tout suite.

PRESENTING TINA’S REALLY DUMB IDEA

Okay.  Here’s the deal  Now…because of the virus…when I order groceries online (as I now have to do because of the virus) … I can’t always get what I want…or NEED!

But…if you are one of those SUPER ‘addictive’ type people as am I…you have to figure out what you can buy to replace something you are SUPER addicted to in case that particular item is UNAVAILABLE!!!!!!!

Okay, Tina…settle down, settle down…

So.  My current addiction is Popsicles.  I have 2 or e after dinner (they…by the way…replaced my PREVIOUS addition of 2 or 3 cigarettes.)  I used to smoke them afteer dinner but no longer do because of a stroke…but that’s a story for another day…

So.  I spent literally hours trying to decide on a replacement addiction for my Popsicles in case they would not be available due to the virus.  I came up with a regular Hershey bar…pretty close in all the numbers I consider important.

SO.  I BOUGHT 60 BARS!!!

I figured I could have 1/2 bar every night after dinner and I would not be eating anymore calories than the 2 or 3 popsicles that I would normally have.

So…didn’t that sound like a great plan?  I thought so as well and I had to implement that plan last week when there were NO popsicles to be found at my store.

But guess what?  I am losing weight…only a couple of ounces so far…BUT STILL…OMG.  I could really be on to something here…which is why I am drinking a coke and eating potato chips as I write this.

Really…I am.

MUCH, MUCH LATER…

What the holy hell was I thinking?  Who can eat only one-half of a Hershey’s candy bar?  Who?

Was I completely out of my mind?  YES!  YES I WAS...!!!  I WAS 100% out of my mind.

To think that I could do that and then…wait for it…and then…when I was able to actually secure one box of my beloved popsicles…but have only ONE…because I AM A POPSICLE ADDICT and wanted to make that box of 36 last forever…

…decide to also have one half of a Hershey’s candy bar as well…because…because…I have no sound answer to that question.  Next question?

“Did you also have a piece of hot apple pie that you had baked solely for the enjoyment of your husband?

I do not believe I am going to answer that question either.

Have a nice day…

 

 

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“TRAPPED!!!!…”

So it just now occurred to me…that beginning October 1, 2020… if I wanted to “flee”somewhere…I could not.  And I’m talking FLEE!!

I would not be able to quickly get on a plane in Minnesota (or any other state in the USA for that matter) and just immediately…right now… “GO”.

Let’s just say that someone was chasing me…for whatever reason (not the police of course…let’s be very clear on that)…and I needed to get on an airplane and fly to Stockholm or Helsinki or Reykjavik or…or…Detroit.

I wouldn’t be able to do so.  I would be trapped!!

I would be standing at some ticket place and the ticket person would…ever so politely… say to me, “Can I see your real ID, please?”…and I would say…panicked, of course, because someone is chasing me (not the police, of course)…

“WHAT THE FUCK do you mean, REAL ID?” I would shout.

And I would drag out my driver’s license and credit card and wave them around in the air and start to breathe faster and faster…because of course I was panicking…

And the ticket person would send some kind of ‘eye’ signal to someone else and I would be asked to either leave or ‘come with them’.

I don’t know what would actually happen…since I have never flown anywhere…ever…so airport protocol is not  item #44 on my ”REMEMBER THIS” list.

I also have never felt the need to flee…but…NOW…if I want to flee…I can’t.

And this is when my quirky claustrophobia begins to kick in…

Normal claustrophobia means no elevators, no packed rooms with no visible red EXIT signs, no large gatherings out of doors with me somehow stuck in the middle and NO FLYING.  …or caves…yikes…

AND THIS IS THE QUIRKY PART of my claustrophobia…I also have to be able to move WHERE I want…WHEN…I want…which is why we can’t vacation on an island.  I can’t get there anyway…but still…if I could…think about it.  A person can only leave when the airline people…say you can.  So…choices…always choices.

I am choosing…TO FLY (somehow securing some really cool drugs) over not being able to flee…when I  want.

…where the hell do I get a Real ID anyway?

Two things:  You are 1.  Now beginning to understand me…or…2.  Now beginning to understand my insanity.

Have a nice day…

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IT’S OVER…

I can’t believe it…my heart is breaking…it’s done.  I knew it was coming, but still…

It seems like only yesterday that everything was in front of me…a plan…a ritual…even dreams…

But now…IT’S OVER.

It started out so brilliantly…I was so full of hope and joy!

First came the crisp autumnal breezes blowing orange and red tinted leaves past  my window…and then…white flakes of snow fluttering down.

There was Domino’s Pizza every week!  And…dessert…with no regrets.

There wasn’t a day I didn’t think about you.  Some mornings I would wake early…so excited to be with you that day.

It was all part of the experience…and I loved it.  I’ve been down this road before.

I laughed.  I screamed.  Sometimes I was so still…I hardly breathed.  And yes…I even cried…once or twice…just a tear or two.

But even so…week after week…the joy was there… the promise…ALWAYS THERE!!!  ALWAYS!!

But now…GONE…GONE FOREVER…………………..well maybe not quite forever…

But at least until the 23rd of April……….NFL DRAFT DAY!!!!!!! 

(OF COURSE THERE IS THE NFL COMBINE ON FEBRUARY 23…BUT WHO REALLY CARES ABOUT THAT CRAP…)*

Have a nice day…

*Okay…I’ll probably listen to all the recaps on the radio…but that’s it.

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I will be so mad if I die before I lose 5 MORE pounds…

St. Peter will not be pleased to see me…

Well, perhaps that is a little strong but SERIOUSLY…I realize that last November 2019 when I had failed to reach 125 lbs….which was my original goal from November 2018… losing 5 more pounds before November 2020 seemed like a  genuine, doable goal.

AND…don’t get me wrong…it is!!!!  I mean…losing 5 pounds in 12 months…pretty easy  stuff.

However, if you happen to reside in the +70 age range, the doability of that goal is a bit sketchy…in that I could “kick the bucket” (so to speak) at any moment.  I feel fine…thanks for asking.

(COMPUTER…DO NOT SPELL CHECK ME …DOABILITY IS A WORD…I DOUBLE  CHECKED…even though not used in most dictionaries…but still).

Every morning I get up and the numbers on the scale vary only an ounce or two up or down…but there doesn’t seem to be a downward trend.

Just a simple request…one tiny, little favor…

…and please understand that I am still very, very grateful that I know what time it is...ALL THE TIME…like now it is 10:09  p.m. CST.

Have a nice day…

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Okay…here’s the deal…

Apparently I now have skinny wrists…YAY!!! 

Well, hold off on the applause and cheering because my brand new Swatch watch  keeps slipping to the outside of my wrist…and it is a real bitch to see what time it is without reaching over with my other hand and straightening it.

I wear my watch on my left wrist and DO NOT EVEN ASK BECAUSE I CANNOT WEAR A WATCH ON MY RIGHT WRIST.  Okay.  I feel better now.  And for all I know it would slip to the outside of my right wrist as well!

So.  I went on line and I FOUND A SOLUTION after only 45 minutes.  TIME WELL SPENT…pardon the pun.

So if you send me $5.00 in unmarked bills I will sha

Hey…I wouldn’t do that.  Here is the trick.  Reverse the band from one side of the watch to the other…if you can.  I have a Swatch so I can do that very easily.  IT’S AMAZING!!!

FYI…I am also telling you…I think I am getting sick of knowing what time it is every single second…like…right now it’s 10:46 p.m. CST.

P.S.  I couldn’t find a cute photo of a wrist watch so…this one had to do…

BYW…It’s now 11:01 p.m. CST

Have a nice day…

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Merry Christmas!!!

Plus…other appropriate greetings to ALL those to whom Merry Christmas does not apply!!

Well…now that I have all that covered…I can share what’s going on with me…with my weight loss goal of losing 5 pounds before next November 1…that is…November 2010.

Since I was 5 pounds short THIS November 1…I gave myself a new goal.

I have gained one whole pound…NOT LOST…gained.  It must have been the “food poisoning/bad deli food/bad…something that caused my body to NOT lose…even though I was not eating a whole lot for about 3 weeks.

Okay.  I did consume:  Sprite, jello (which we all know is pure sugar in a jiggly form), pretzels, crackers…did I mention Sprite?  I believe I am addicted to Sprite now.  Oh, sigh.

Anyway…I hope everyone who is trying to lose weight this year (and next) will not be too hard on themselves during the holidays…whatever your holiday may be.

One is okay.  Ten is pushing it.  Enjoy life for Pete’s sake.

I tripped over a picture frame last week (such a long, boring story) and as I was trying to “catch myself” as one does…I was thinking…really…well this is  going to hurt like hell.

It did.  But the fear of not being able to get up…moved me to immediately get up.  A little blood on the kneecap and SORE body for a few days…was the aftermath of the fall.

So see?  Life happens and if…unlike me…you hit your head and die…you are going to be SO SORRY that you didn’t have that one piece of homemade fudge.  Really.

Have a nice day…

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I have no clue…

Well…I’m still at 130.4…even though I had a stomach bug and didn’t eat for a day and a half…there was NO loss.

IKR!!!!!!

And…like any normal person…when I could eat I ate a lot.  Sorry.  Sad Truth.

NOT crap.  Good food…mostly…

Also… just in casual passing…I have a teensy, weensy secret to share.

Yes…there are 2.  And yes…it does appear that they are kind of hidden in my bureau drawer…because…they are.

I don’t know what came over me!!!!

It was like I was possessed!!  It’s really the fault of the woman who was ahead of me in line at the grocery store.  She was moving forward and then she stopped to reach back and grab a Hershey bar.

Well.  What could I do?

Have a nice day…

P.S.  Don’t tell.

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“I see you…”

“I’m not blind, you know.”

“Don’t think for one moment that I don’t see you…sitting there…all propped up and cute-like in your little silver and brown wrapper…tempting me…enticing me…

“You may not be aware…but there is a little dust on you…just a little…but it’s there.

“And I know what you’re thinking…’Just reach over and rip off my wrapper…break off one little piece of me at a time, let it melt ever so slowly on your tongue…'”

“NO!!!!!!!!” SAY I…

“I am not weak!!!!!  I am strong!!!!!    I am kind of strong…I am kind of a little strong…”

And I get up, turn out the desk light…turn the desk light back on… because the room was completely dark and I couldn’t see shit…walk over to another lamp and turn that one on and  then return to turn off the desk light again even though it was highlighting all your goodness and glory and wonderfulness…OH FOR FUCK’S  SAKE!!!

Have a nice day…

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cropped-cropped-img_20191026_2247555703108068617307527417

MY DAD WAS NEVER WITHOUT A LIGHTED CIGARETTE DANGLING FROM HIS MOUTH…

BUT HE WASN’T COMPLETELY STUPID…

I’m not standing there because I wanted to observe the fine art of re-fueling an empty gas tank…on some deserted road…God knows where…circa 1950.

His lit cigarette is in my left hand.  Safety first!  Oh.  My.

Have a nice day…

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OKAY, OKAY, OKAY...

NOVEMBER 1 IS ALMOST HERE…

AND…I have not yet reached my goal weight of 125 pounds….which I set last October.  I HAVE lost 18 pounds, 4 ounces…which is great!!!!!…but still…

Let’s just round numbers off and say I currently weigh 129  and thus (:)) need to lose 4 more pounds to be successful…

Well.  I do not anticipate that happening…although miracles do happen.  HAH!!

So.  Here is my new plan.  Today is October 20, 2019 and my new goal (in life) is to lose 4 pounds by November 2020.

Good plan, huh?  I thought so too.

I don’t know what it is…sometimes these fantastic  ideas just come to me like a lightning bolt shot out of the sky.  Oh.  My.

Have a nice day…

By |

24 DAYS…

but who’s counting.

Me.  I have less than a month to go and my goal of 125 by Nov. 1 looms.  I like that word.  LOOMS.  Current weight:  129.4 and apparently holding forever…

Let’s go back 56 years…yes…I am 20 years old…sigh.  That was a splendid year…if only I could tell more people.   You know….there are things and events you can just never share…sweet memories and such…

But I digress.  Summer 1963.  I was 20 and I weighed 99 pounds.

And because of my extraordinary skills (okay, no one else would do it), I was the catcher for a fast pitch softball team.  Read 70 mph…yup.

It was a hot July night in old Bloomington, Minnesota and we were playing a really tough, championship team from the mean streets of Minneapolis.

I was taking a few warm-ups from my pitcher who…incidentally…had a smoking  fast ball that would drop a little just before the plate.  Have I set the picture?

Let continue…I flipped up my catcher’s mask (I thought I was so cool) to quickly take a drag off my ‘lit’ Marlboro cigarette…which was conveniently nestled in the sand right next to me…hey…this was 55 years ago.  Don’t judge me.

I looked down to pick up the Marlboro and just as I looked up to take a drag…my obviously non-aware pitcher threw a sizzling, fast ball, hitting my unprotected face, sending me backwards about a foot…no really…a whole 12 inches.

Not only did the lit cigarette cause a burn on my cheek, I couldn’t chew real food for about 3 weeks.  I wasn’t wired shut…it was just too painful to do anything but drink fluids or very mushy foods.

There is no moral to this telling…just background to the fact that…I lost 5 pounds in less than a month.

Anyone looking for a 75 year old catcher?

Have a nice day…

By |

Still rocking 129.4…!!!

and I had a thought today…

Let’s just say I was walking down the street and someone (a man) would come up to me and say, “Hey, good looking…what’s your favorite season of the year?”

Okay…the whole “hey, good looking” thing probably wouldn’t happen…but the question of favorite season just might…so…I’ll continue…

“Hey, good looking…: (You didn’t think I was going to let that go, did you?)…tell me your favorite season.”

AND…I would say…

“Well, thank you for asking, kind sir.  As you are aware…I live in Minnesota.  It is September 15 and I was just told the weather forecast for tomorrow has a “heat alert watch” wrapped around it…I almost threw up.”

“I just watched my Vikings football team  lose to Green Bay today.   I don’t want to think about having heat stroke in the middle of September!”

“I want to think of crisp mornings, chilly nights and brisk walks…wearing the new clothes I have recently purchased because I have lost so much weight!!! AND…I don’t want to sweat anymore. ”

Answer to the question:  It isn’t summer.

Have a nice day…