I've deleted this paragraph four times, let's make it five. Remember when birthdays were fun, happy times? It's a loaded question, how many years I've graced this planet. I've contributed what I can, I'm older than I was then. There are many life lessons to learn, one is how to use the written word. I'll come back to this, I promise, after another decade of remorse, sorrow, discarded drafts and too much bourbon.

I was in my twenties once, living day to day, hoping to survive the decade without succumbing to pain. I hit thirty and realized I'm a third of the way through, if I am lucky. Perhaps it's all happenstance, a roulette of genetics. I take another sip of my drink and watch the condensation drip down the glass, another year in the bag, handed to me with a lemon slice on the edge.

We are all surviving, even if at different tempos. Each year is its own performance, percussion that continues. If the beat goes on, but no one is around to hear it, can you still call it music?

Are you listening to it?

I'm often plagued by writer's block and my remedy to it is to stop. I don't force myself to write; instead I go and do things, go about my day or days, which might lead into weeks and I experience life as it passes and sometimes small moments or conversations catch my attention and they inspire me to write and others, feelings and emotions erupt that need to be released. I don't agonize or fret, I just continue living because to me life is what feeds my need to write and somethings just can't be put into words until they've had time to steep and marinate in the gumbo'ed mess that is sometimes my life.

Chris whistled and tapped his foot. He was in a groovy mood.

The sound of the doorbell alarmed him. He dashed to the door to see who it was.

Strange. There was no one at the door.

Chris slowly closed the door. Then went back to grab a drink from the kitchen.

He grabbed a glass from the shelf, and placed it on the granite counter. For some reason, he turned his head to see if anyone was behind him.

Chris felt a cold chill run down his spine. Maybe the a.c was working too well. He’d have to check it and turn the temperature up a bit.

He poured himself some ginger ale. The moment he took a hold of his glass- he saw a dark shadow seated on the chair.

Chris: Oh, to what do I owe the pleasure of having you here today.

The dark shadow chuckled and snapped his bony fingers. A paper appeared before Chris’ eyes.

Chris: (gulps) Look. (sighs) It’s been a crazy week, okay. I promise I’ll get everything ready by the weekend.

The dark shadow squinted it’s eye sockets. ‘‘I do not want any games. Make sure you do as you promised. Otherwise, you’ll be very sorry to have messed with me.’’

As soon as Chris tried to say something else, his guest was gone. The document started to fade away, too.

At last, he could have his drink in peace. The drink was now less cool, and there was something in it. He felt nauseated.

Chris: Come on! Ah, a spider~ of all things. (mumbles) So not fair.

#Dues.

jeudi, 12 septembre, 2019.

Have you seen “Karate Kid”? Great movie. My favorite scene is when Daniel-san learns how to shine Mr. Miyagi’s car: “Wax on. Wax off. Don’t forget to breathe.” I thought of that recently when I stepped from my writing room into the kitchen. As my foot hit the floor, I had a disconcerting moment. What happened? My big boy pants slipped unceremoniously from my waist to my ankles: “Pants on. Pants off.”

Normally that would have been embarrassing, even though nobody was home. But now I classify it as an NSV.

Question One: What does NSV stand for? Non-Scale Victory.

Question Two: What’s a Non-Scale Victory? Something truly wonderful.

Let me elaborate.

When I started my health journey back in December, a friend cautioned me not to get pre-occupied with weigh-ins. Why? She said weight was only part of the success equation.

That’s when she alerted me to NSVs.

For example, a year ago I could not get my shoes on because I weighed nearly 400 pounds and my feet were swollen. Once I lost weight and my feet got un-swelled, I was able to put on shoes. Might not seem like a big deal, but (trust me) it was. That’s a Non-Scale Victory.

Need another example?

OK. How about this: During the few times I left the house last year, it took two people (the driver and I) to get my safety belt into the lock position. By the time we heard “click,” I was huffin’ and puffin’ with chest pains. Now, I “click” by myself.

Need more?

Couldn’t get into regular pants last year. Had to wear those stretchy things with a thick string around the belly that needed to be tied into a loopy-loop, like a knot on your shoe. Now? Recently got a brand new pair of regular pants—belt and all.

But let’s get back to the “pants on-pants off” incident. Standing there, with one foot in my writing room and another in the kitchen, was a metaphor for my ongoing transformation—like when a caterpillar sheds its cocoon to become a butterfly.

What about you? Are you taking care of yourself? You should. I waited until age 71 to get healthy. (It’s a miracle I survived that long.) My big regret is that I didn’t start sooner.

Sure, I’ve given up stuff — like pizza, pasta, potatoes, cake, and cookies. But I’ve gained something, too: the chance to see my grandkids graduate from high school. Seems like a great trade-off to me.

How about you?

I’m not talkin’ about dieting. (Been there; done that.) I’m talking about a genuine paradign shift — from Twinkies & Snickers to lean and green.

Is is worth it? It has been so far. (I’ve lost 60 pounds since December, and feel much better.)

All I’m sayin’ is, “Think about it.”

What have you to got to lose? Weight for one thing. What have to got to gain? Health, for starters — and a whole new adventure in living.