The saga of Homer Hirt
According to many doctors, obesity is the number one cause of health problems. This did not bother me until one evening I inadvertently stepped on the bathroom scales as I emerged from the shower and saw the hand go past the 215 pound mark. I hastily stepped back, dried off thoroughly, and weighed again. The towel did not help. I was still 215 pounds!
According to many doctors, obesity is the number one cause of health problems. This did not bother me until one evening I inadvertently stepped on the bathroom scales as I emerged from the shower and saw the hand go past the 215 pound mark. I hastily stepped back, dried off thoroughly, and weighed again. The towel did not help. I was still 215 pounds!
Realizing that it was time to take action, I plotted my course.
What makes a person obese? A survey was indicated. I got a clipboard and a pen and went to the local "big box" store. Folks will usually talk to an authoritative person with a clipboard, so I began stopping obviously obese persons and asking the simple questions: (1) do you consider yourself obese? And the follow-up: (2) If so, why are you obese?
The results were interesting. Two out of ten told the truth: they liked to eat. Two more blamed glandular problems. The other six stated that they were "big-boned". So there I had the answer! I am big-boned.
This satisfied me, until I remembered that at the age of twenty one when I enlisted in the Navy I weighed 135 pounds. Was I "small-boned" then? And when I came off active duty six years later, I weighed 170 pounds. Had I gone to "medium-boned"? I took this excuse for what it was and began looking seriously at losing weight.
I began a walking, or more properly a strolling, regime. I would stroll a mile a day, taking thirty minutes. The pounds stayed on, and I was missing part of "NCIS" on television. I heard of a diet that was simple. A dermatologist on National Public Radio (always the voice of Truth and Wisdom) said that if a heavy coffee drinker would switch to hot tea, he would lose twenty pounds in thirty days. So, I switched to tea. In twenty nine days I had lost one pound. I went back to coffee, because if I had finished the thirty days on tea and the doctor was right, something big was going to fall off. I couldn’t take that chance.
And then I found an incentive for losing weight.
At a couple of First Friday Chamber Breakfasts, a nice looking lady, slim, trim and athletic, an obvious marathon runner, and some two decades my junior, sat by me. We had known each other for some time, and I always enjoyed her company. Then Covenant Hospice had their Garden Gala. I went alone but the lady spotted me, and escorted me to her table. This was during the political season, and as we sat chatting, the wife of one of the candidates came up, introduced herself to my seatmate, and asked her who she was. Came the answer: "I’m Homer’s fiancé". The word spread rapidly, and I basked in the admiring glances.
When the Chamber had their annual meet, I called "the Runner" and asked her to accompany me, and she agreed. I have a picture of us standing side-by-side. She is slim, trim, beautiful and well-dressed. I am bearded, chubby, and wearing my size 46 (tight) Navy blue blazer. At home I checked out the picture and decided that it was time to take weight loss seriously.
Governor Mike Huckaby has a program on Fox that is entertaining and worth watching. One night he was asked how he had lost over a hundred pounds. He gave this simple formula: (1) don’t eat anything that comes through a car window, and (2) don’t eat any Southern food. I began observing this with some reluctance, but I knew I had to have a real incentive. So I came up with one.
I figured "the Runner" can do a mile in eight minutes. I was walking a mile in thirty. A quick moment at the calculator showed that I would be ninety one before I could catch her on the track. I increased my walking time and distance. Now I walk between three and five miles daily. I am getting faster. The calculator indicates that my age will be eighty five on the day of the "Great Race". Much better than the first number!
I talked with my daughter, Ashlee the Nutritionist, and she visited me. My refrigerator now is stocked with fruit, salad makings, low fat meats, raw vegetables, non-fat sauces and no-calorie ice cubes. I gave up Mayfield Moose Tracks ice cream, a concoction from the gods, but occasionally scoop up a little sherbet. Sherbet is not really a food. In fine restaurants you are served it, under the name of "sorbet", to cleanse the palate. It doesn’t take much to cleanse my palate, since Ashlee also took me off salt and white bread. My cats get a serving of deli turkey meat each afternoon, and I have caught myself looking longingly at that.
But this is all working. I have dropped from 215 to 195. I feel better. The size 44 trousers are ready for Goodwill. My size 46 blazer is in the back of the closet. I am definitely approaching the "medium-boned" status. My blood pressure is in the "low normal’ range. My walking route is along U. S. 90, and since I am a supporter of Chuck Hatcher’s Recycling Program, I pick up aluminum cans from the right-of-way, thus earning "Hero Points" from the tree huggers. Friends wave at me, often giving me the sign for "double time". I promptly return this by elevating one finger in their direction.
But with all of this, I think of the story of the elderly couple who died. The duty angel was showing them around Heaven and the man’s eye was caught by the huge number of grand golf courses, all available at any time, a tremendous buffet, and giant television screens so that he could watch any sports action on earth. He immediately slapped his wife. The angel was appalled. Then the man said to his wife: "if it hadn’t been for you and your blasted bran muffins, I would have been up here twenty years ago!"
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