Faith and diets

When on a diet, people will say you shouldn’t deny yourself the foods you love. You should just eat less of them. Telling yourself “no” will only make things worse.

I don’t work well with authority. The idea of someone who has always been mostly healthy and thin telling me how to eat better makes me want to grab a Wendy’s triple with cheese and scarf it right in front of them.

I have the same problem with religion. It doesn’t help me to have people who have always been religious tell me how great God is.

I want to hear how to eat well from someone who was 350 pounds and is still tempted by a cheeseburger every once in a while. I want to hear the testimony of someone who didn’t grow up with Jesus, someone who found the light after hitting rock bottom.

Before the skinny and pious get their panties in a bunch, I’m not saying that the lessons that can be learned from you are any less valid. It’s not my job to question your faith or the way you eat. I’m not saying that if you have always eaten healthy you should grab some super nachos and a large Coke and make a pig of yourself every now and again. I’m not saying that if Jesus has been a part of your life since you were a kid and you’ve always believed that you should head to Sin City and let loose, just to see what you are missing.

What I’m saying is that for me, I want to hear from someone who has lived on the other side of the law. I want to hear from the guy who had to struggle with temptation and found a way to call on the Lord for strength. I want to get diet tips from someone who ate the 96-ounce steak and decided that was no way to go through life.

So here’s the deal. I’m figuring this whole thing out. It’s going take some time and it’s not going to be easy. Really, it hasn’t been easy so far. I suppose the good news is that I’ve given in to my bad food habits more often than more sinful temptations that have plagued me.

I’m never going to be perfect. (And neither are you, not on this earth, anyway.) I can lose some weight and I can lead a clean life. Maybe I can even be the example I’ve been looking for. You know, the fat guy who learned to choose fruit over French fries; the guy who decides that some of the music he really loves isn’t making him happy.

Right now, I’m in no position to be an example to anyone and that’s not the goal. I’m not doing this for you or to make anyone look good. I’m doing it for me. Because if I can be a better person—in my physical and spiritual health—I’ll be around to continue making my wife the happiest woman on the planet. I’m not doing it alone, that’s for sure.

Right now, I’d like to eat an entire pizza and drink a two liter bottle of Mountain Dew. I’d like to watch some movies that don’t glorify anything that anyone should be involved in. But I’m not going to.

I’m not denying myself these things. I didn’t tell myself “no.” I made the decision to engage in more uplifting activity (such as writing this) and eat better food.

And it didn’t take a man in a suit and tie to tell me that’s what I wanted to do. Just a long haired, sandal-wearing wanderer who defied the authority of His day.

No free lunch OR Just because you are hungry doesn't mean you should fill out a credit card application

I was broke and hungry like many college kids are. Somewhere, I picked up a flier offering a free pizza. Naturally, I went. And, of course, there was a catch.

To get the free pizza one had to fill out a credit card application. I thought, hey, I'm broke, I don't have a bank account or any sort of savings. There's no way they'll give me a credit card.

So I filled out the application and got my pizza. A few weeks later, I got a credit card.

I was shocked. At first, I wasn't going to call the activation number. Unfortunately, the card arrived the day after a rather uneventful birthday. I wanted to party.

I activated the card and did fairly well at keeping up the minimum payments.  And then I had another offer, one that included the possibility of getting a new computer. It just so happened I needed a new computer. So I got a new computer. I did pretty good at making the payments... a while.

And then college was over and I didn't always have a job. Which means I didn't always make my payments. Then I stopped making payments altogether.

This was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life. And I've done some stupid shit.

The good news is that all put one of my debts (not including student loans: those take some time) have been settled. Today, I made arrangements to settle my last debt.

The idea is to boost that credit score so my wife and I can buy a house. Without my wife, I probably wouldn't be paying these debts or working at a good job or being happy.

My advice, gentle souls, is to remember that there is no such thing as a free lunch. If you don't think they'll give you the credit card, don't even bother to fill out the application.

What I ate today

The thing I'm told most often to do (besides "don't eat that") in order to lose weight is to keep a food journal. I keep trying and I'm good at it for a day or two and then I just stop.
Remember when the blogosphere was all about what so-and-so Self-Important ate that day?
We've come a long way since then. We've come far enough that I don't mind offering this throwback post on what I ate today. Maybe I will even be able to keep the journal going.

What I ate today:

A multi-vitamin.
A mixture of eggs, bacon and hash browns, two pieces of toast and a glass of pink lemonade.
Three bottles of water.
A small bowl of Tootie Frooties.
Two "party pizzas," a Butterfinger Crisp bar and a liter (roughly) of Mountain Dew.

I don't know that I'll eat anything else today, but if I do, I'll be sure to add it.

Check, check, is this thing on?

OK, it's been more than two years since I wrote anything here. I'm going to try and keep it up.

(This is where my wife would say, "That's what she said.")

And that is where you old time readers probably crapped your pants. Yes, I said "my wife."

Seriously, there's too much to give you all a solid update. I just can't do it. What I can do is tell you that I will sincerely try to post something once a week. I'm going to try. That's not a guarntee, mind you.

So if you are still out there, I'm back.

Idaho: Breeding ground for lost causes?

The craziest man in NFL football named Tom Cable as the new head coach of the Oakland Raiders.

Welcome to the lost cause club, Tom. It seems Idahoans are the current poster children for high hopes waiting to be dashed. I'm talking to you, Gov. Palin.

Let's face it, Idaho is one of the stepchild states of this country. No respect, no heroes and a bad image that keeps getting worse. You may not know, but when Cable played for the University of Idaho Vandals, he was part of the offensive line blocking for Quarterback Scott Linehan. Like Cable's Raiders predecessor Lane Kiffin, Linehan was fired this week. Linehan's St. Louis Rams aren't as good as the Raiders and both will continue to struggle.

So why is it that Idaho can't get good press? OK, it isn't ALL bad; there are some people who genuinely believe the Republican ticket of McCain-Palin will beat the Obama Changemachine. There are even people I know who are planning to punch a full Republican ticket.

It's not my fault. I grew up in that other stepchild state, Utah. The day Utah turns blue is the day the devil gets to have his scotch on the rocks.

And everybody, including ESPN, loves the Boise State Broncos. As we like to say in Moscow, Boise isn't a state.

If you try to blame this run of bad luck on outgoing senator Larry Craig and his restroom exploits, you are missing the point. Craig isn't the problem. Palin isn't the problem. The Vandal cheerleaders skimpy uniforms aren't the problem. These are just visible symptoms.

So what is it about Idaho that breeds people built for lost causes? Is it North Idaho's "Aryan Nation" background or southern Idaho's identification as nothing more than a bunch of Napoleon Dynamite wanna-bes? (On a side note, I hate that movie. Some things are funny because they are true; some things are so true they just can't be funny.)

Enter Cable, most recently the offensive line coach of the Raiders. His previous stint leading a team was for the Vandals from 2000-03. He went 11-35 in four seasons before being replaced by Nick Holt who was replaced by Dennis Erickson who was replaced by Robb Akey. (For the record, I took a sick joy in watching the UNLV Runnin' Rebels knock Erickson's Arizona St. Sun Devils out of their 15th spot in the rankings.) The longest Cable ever held a coaching job was from 1992-1997 when he was the O-line coach at Cal.

In other words, he's perfect for the Raiders. He's their sixth head coach since they were creamed by the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in Super Bowl XXVII.

But who knows? Maybe Idaho will break out of this slump. Cable could turn the Raiders around (not likely), McCain-Palin could win the White House (please, God, no), the next U.S. Senator from Idaho could be a decent guy (Larry LaRocca, vote now), and standout Vandal linebacker David Vobora (picked dead last in the 2008 NFL draft) might get into a game.

Or, the nation could continue to only be informed of Idaho's lost causes. Sorry, Broncos. You may get a lot of air time, but you'll never win the BCS championship.

The good news is that I know plenty of people either from Idaho or went to UI that are not lost causes. Whether they can reverse the trend or not, only time will tell.

The Juice no longer loose

Since O.J. Simpson's sports memorabilia trial began this week in Las Vegas, now is a good time to revisit the following column. It appeared in The Argonaut exactly one year ago today. Enjoy!

If you could crawl inside O.J. Simpson’s head, would you want to?
Let’s take a little peek inside his brain and maybe figure out what the hell is going on in there. Take a change of underwear. It might get scary.
Yes, you may hold my hand. Remember though, none of this is real.

The first thing you’ll notice is that we don’t have to go through the ear hole of a football helmet. Sorry, Juice, those days are long in the past. Nor must we go through giant hair or a headset. Like his football days, O.J.’s big hair and football analyst days are done.
Once we arrive in the ear canal, we are met with a lifetime of earwax. What did you expect? Every time someone said, “No, O.J., I don’t think it’s a good idea to publish a book about what you would have done if you had killed your former wife,” something had to be blocking the sound waves.

Maybe he was hit in the head once too often. Those 1960s and ‘70s-era helmets weren’t the sophisticated protectors of multi-million dollar heads that NFL players wear today.
After forcing our way through the waxy build-up, we find ourselves in O.J.’s inner reality. We’re met not by his current self, but by his much younger self, sporting the colors of his alma mater USC and holding his Heisman Trophy.
“Hi there, folks,” the young Juice says, flashing a smile that will eventually get him on TV and in movies. “Welcome to O.J.’s, where the fun never stops until you lose your head.”
See, O.J. had a sense of humor even back then.

After entering what looks like a golf course inside a football stadium with a casino on one side and a black, empty space on the other, we gravitate to a gaggle of people gathered around a golf green right on the fifty yard line.
Johnny Cochran is there and so is Mark Fuhrman. Judge Ito is serving drinks out of a golf cart and an older (but far from wiser) O.J. is setting up a putt.
For now, this is a strange kind of heaven, but if O.J. misses this putt, all hell will break loose. Shh.

He taps the ball and rolls toward the cup, looking as if it will plop right in. Then it veers away from the hole and bounces away into the dark part of the stadium.
There are two signs above the burnt out seats: “Do Not Enter” and a replica of the “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” sign.
Somehow we’ve managed to traverse many of O.J.’s problems, landing square in the middle of his current quandary.

Sunday, O.J. was arrested and charged with six counts of assault, robbery, burglary and conspiracy in Las Vegas. Here is what is known so far:
O.J. thinks someone jacked him for memorabilia related to his family (not his football career, the one that is o-v-e-r). He entered the room of the supposed holder of the items with a few other men.

According to O.J., he and his buddies regained possession of the items and left the room.
No guns were involved.
Except that a couple guns were found with another man arrested in relation to the crime while at McCarran International Airport.
Things inside O.J.’s head get real fuzzy as we try to sort out this part of his mind.
Perhaps we have entered the worst part of his psyche, the part that battles between his perceived innocence (and let me remind everyone that he was found not guilty of the murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman, and not all the facts of this current case have come out, so no one, except maybe O.J., knows whether he is guilty or not), and his thoughts about actually committing crimes.

He did write a book called “If I Did It,” after all.
There isn’t anything here about O.J.’s penchant for road rage, though. He was caught with that one and as for the book, well, he didn’t get to make any money on it.
A bankruptcy judge gave the rights to the Goldman family and they published it.
They re-titled it, too.

“If I Did It: Confessions of the Killer.” Catchy title, don’t you think?
Yes, O.J.’s head is a scary place to be, full of contradictions. On one side, there is sunshine and golf. On the other side there is darkness. O.J. already knows what jail is like, so if he gets a trip to a Nevada State Correctional Facility, it won’t be wholly unfamiliar.
What’s that? You want out of this place? Me, too.

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