I’m Not Obese… Another Chapter in Homer’s Saga

At dinner last night at Madison’s, our group’s conversation got around to my columns. There were several complimentary comments on recent subjects, and then one lady said, “But the ones about The Runner were the best.”

This put me on the track that Sid Riley, the Managing Editor of the Times placed me on. When he subtitled my first, “I’m Not Obese” article as “the continuing saga” I felt compelled to write a second one, in obeisance to my namesake, the famous blind Greek poet Homer, who penned the Odyssey. And, as I pointed out, sagas have a tendency to go on………and on.

Accept this as a report of my wellbeing and my advancement up the ladder of success in my several ventures. I reported that I weighed 215 pounds when I began walking and dieting. Then I told my readers that I dropped down to 190, and was wearing jackets that had hung in the back of my closet for some years. I also set up the possibility of my going a measured mile with “The Runner” in the year 2014, when I will be eighty five years old.

I am pleased to report to you that I now weigh 180 pounds, and I will be working throughout this New Year on cutting it down to 170 so that I can once again wear my U.S. Navy Dress White Uniform, with services medals and sword. This is a double goal: I will then have a certain indication that I was once that slimmed fit, and “The Runner” told me that uniforms excite her. I am assuming that she meant U.S. Navy uniforms, not park ranger’s camos or nurse smocks.

And I am on track for my measured mile goal of eight minutes. You will recall that I began this year strolling a mile in thirty minutes. I got serious and soon cut this to twenty five and then twenty minutes. This indicated that in a four year period it would be possible for me to make the distance in eight minutes. I am now down to sixteen minutes, and on some days I not only set a fast pace walking, I run part of the distance. Recently I was honored by being selected Grand Marshal of the Sneads Christmas Parade, and I either walked or ran most of the distance alongside my Explorer, ever though we were in, for the most part, rain and cold.

So, this presents an opportunity to me that had never come to mind until I noticed that Tiger Woods is losing endorsements right and left. Just before Christmas I went to Sandestin with a couple of my friends from the Table of Truth and Justice in Chattahoochee, and we actually went shopping. I stood around, mostly, and watched them in the Bass Pro Shop. They spent some time trying to get me to go into Victoria’s Secret to buy a Christmas gift for someone, but I resisted, and I compromised by going to the Nike store.

Nike has sporting goods, from gloves to shoes, for any sport except Acey-Deucey. I walked around in awe until a nice young salesman approached me and asked what my sport was. I quickly said “running”, not wanting to tell him that I was really a modified stroller. He nodded and led me to the shoes. Soon I was fitted out with a pair of very nice on-sale running shoes, and he had learned that I am retired Navy and that I write a weekly column for a newspaper, to which my friends added that it would probably soon be syndicated nationwide and maybe in Canada. I paid for the shoes and left, but not before he had learned the Times website address.

And then I thought back to something that Jerry Clower, the country comedian from Amite County, Mississippi wrote about endorsements. In his famous, “Knock him out, John” tale of coon hunting he had mentioned a Poulan chain saw. The next week he received a new chain saw from the Poulan Company. Jerry then began talking about Chrysler convertibles, an automobile he had always coveted. Chrysler came through, not with a convertible but with a Dodge pickup truck, which really suited Jerry better.

So how do I turn this concept into something lucrative?

I have mentioned by name restaurants and stores often in my articles. So far none of the folks that run these fine establishments have reciprocated with gifts. Perhaps it is how the names appear in print. Here is the way it’s ‘going down’ from now on out. I have decided that the names should be eye-catching, and I will make them so.

Occasionally, I and “The Runner” have breakfast at the *Waffle House*, but we may drop in on the *Gazebo* on occasion. Practically every first Tuesday night a group of us *REPUBLICANS* have a late supper at *Madisons*. Gina Stuart, who is owner of *K. B. Connor Realtor*, is one of the group, as is Bruce Lambert, who owns *Lambert Inspection Services*. The reason for this get together is that we have the monthly meeting of the *Jackson County Republican Executive Committee*. Because we dine late, I often stop by *Sweet Stuff Bakery* on the way to the meeting for a snack to tide me over.

As my regular readers know, I do not shop, I buy. Whenever I need electronic gear, or office supplies, I often end up at *Mickey Gilmore’s Wal-Mart*, but on occasion I make a stop at *Beall’s Outlet* or *Suitman of Florida* to check on trousers that fit, since my waistband has come down from a forty-four to a thirty eight. And of course this means that my too large clothes must then go to the *Habitat for Humanity* thrift shop on Jackson Street. And while I am kicking around the *Main Street Marianna* I will probably drop in at the *Chipola River Book and Tea Shop* for a priced-right book.

This is enough for now. It will take some time for me and my agent to sort through the flood of inducements that I expect from this column. You can be assured that I will move on to the automobile company that builds my favorite vehicle: *FORD MOTOR COMPANY*, so Will Rogers, get ready!