As the year ends I am attempting once again to get back into a regular blogging habit. I was considering writing one about the unfortunately bad experience I had with my friend Lauren at the low-dough Spoon concert on Monday, but Lauren has written I think a better version of it than what I could do, and that can be read on her blog here.
Instead I am going to focus on my attempts to lose weight and my feeling that the world itself is conspiring against me. I recently joined a gym, and even though I am committed to going as much as possible, about two weeks after I joined it seemed like my schedule began to reshape itself in ways that prevented me from going. On more than one occasion my work schedule has had me going in literally 15 minutes before or after the gym opens, and leaving 15 minutes before or after it closes. Or as was the case last week, other things like shopping for a new car (thanks again Seymour, Indiana!) had to take place during the same hours I would have been free to work out.
But what also seems to keep getting me is that fast food companies are constantly dreaming up newer and more convoluted behemoths to clog my arteries, cause me to lose my breath more often and make me less and less desirable to the opposite sex. Right now McDonalds has been tossing out the very tasty Angus Burger to those of us in the midwest test market, and if that weren’t enough, other chains have decided to create burgers that just combine other meals into one. Wendy’s has brought back its Jalapeno Double Melt, which is essentially a combination of nachos and a hamburger. Not to be outdone, yesterday on my way to Cleveland, I stopped at a Hardees and was forced by a compelling sign to get the Philly Cheesesteak Thickburger.
Most of the time a place has some sort of philly burger, it is just a burger with green peppers and onions. But not at Hardees my friends. At Hardees, the PCSTB is a full 1/3 pound burger patty, topped off with ACTUAL cheesesteak. That is TWO kinds of beef on one sandwich. My willpower is not strong enough to handle a gauntlet like that being thrown down in front of me. I almost had to order it just for the story. As I ate that devil’s food all I could picture was the extra few miles I would have to do on the elliptical, but probably would not, to burn it away, and also the face of my hindu friend Sumukh as I scarfed down all that beef. This was quickly followed however by the sheer euphoria of eating such a terrible terrible meal. The rice cakes and Lean Gourmet meals I bought at the grocery store in Cleveland today will never make me feel so good inside. I joked onstage last week that I can’t eat healthy to save my life, and I honestly think someday I will be forced to face the reality of how true that statement can be.
I have been told by many people that I should read the book Fast Food Nation, and see the movie Super Size Me, that these too acts would cure me of my fast food cravings for good. It has been suggested that I have refused to check them out because I don’t want to give up my bad food addiction. But the reason I have not read or watched either is because of another harsh reality I worry about facing. A friend of mine once told me he is terrified to watch certain types of porn, really kinky twisted stuff, because he doesn’t want to discover that any of that stuff is his “thing.” He doesn’t want to face that truth about himself. In the same way, I fear that I would probably see the film, read the book, and then go down and buy a cheeseburger. I’m not sure I want to know that’s how weak a person I am.
God this blog has made me hungry.
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