Life expectancy and expectations

I’m pretty lucky to be living right now, particularly being a 55-year-old man.

If I’d been born in the 1920s, as my father was, at this age I would be bumping heads with a man’s average life span.

That doesn’t mean I’d be necessarily checking out right away. It might mean that making it past 5 without my fragile system succumbing to the consumption, I could have a reasonable chance to make it another decade or more. That is, if I just toss around the medicine ball a bit more or sit in front of the radio a bit less.

If I were this age at that time, I’d probably look older than I do, because people years were worth fewer dog years back then. Younger people would see the attic door of death hovering right over my fedora.

One thing’s for sure: I wouldn’t have just had a tiny camera slid up my rear end to tell me I don’t have to worry about one of the lurking hazards for a few more years.

Yet here I am at this age in the 21st Century and I’m looking forward.

I’m aware that I could go tomorrow, of course.

And that’s part of the beauty of being this age: I’m well aware of the attic door up there, and when I think of it, I keep moving forward.

 

Not always looking at the holes

Robin Williams’ suicide made a lot of people start talking about depression.

I don’t know if that’s why I keep hearing about it from people I know, but I’m glad they’re getting it out in the open.

I know from my own bout with it a few years ago that feeling alone in it is a huge part of the problem. Or seeing the wonderful lives of all of your Facebook friends.

At least that’s the way it was when I was suffering a few years ago.

It was at the heart of the Recession, and that wasn’t helping things much, either.

Plus, I had quit my job of two decades a couple years earlier and the work I’d had came to a standstill and I was paralyzed by a lack of confidence.

I never considered doing myself harm, largely because I couldn’t do that to my children. But I fantasized a lot about dying. For instance, I’d had an out-of-control semi slide through the winter slush into my little Saturn and just crunch the rear end of it. I kept wishing it had caught me a split second earlier, right smack dab in the driver’s door.

But here I am, four or five years later and I don’t always look at the holes in everything. I realize there’s good and bad in every situation. Sure, you’re naive if you only dwell on the good, but you’re just as wrong if you dwell on the bad.

And my career is moving again.

So I hope that anyone in that tunnel stays with it and tries to move forward, because it does (most likely) end.

 

 

 

Sneezes don’t require vocal cords

People tell me my sneezes sound like a cat. They’re too dainty for a big guy like me, they say.

Just because I don’t wind up for a sneeze with a vocal “Aaaaah” and then follow it up with a shout of “CHOOO!”

Or whatever your particular bird call happens to be.

On the one hand, I appreciate your vocal warning that snot may soon be flying my way.

But really, you can just turn your head.

From vegan to caveman

No more veganism for me.

I can’t really claim to have ever been a vegan for more than a few weeks at a time.

But I did think that might be the silver bullet I needed to lose weight, lower my cholesterol and live to an age that’s old and ripe enough to make the folks at Smucker’s sit up and take notice.

That seemingly healthy diet kept dying of boredom in my hands, though.

I’d dive into it, thinking I could make a wholesale change like that with little problem. Then, after the initial surge of energy and good feeling, I’d inevitably run up against this reality: I love to cook, yet I’ve voluntarily nixed a huge percentage of my eligible ingredients.

How do you replace eggs, cheese, milk and meat all at once? Sure, Bill Clinton has done successfully so far, but I’m thinking he doesn’t have to come up with his own menu every night. Or ever, for that matter.

Anyway, my doctor agreed that all-plants-all-the-time is probably not going to work for me. So she suggested that I try the Paleo diet — sometimes referred to as the hunter/gatherer diet. Also, she recommended that I avoid an all-or-nothing approach this time.

Sure, I’m giving up some pretty universal ingredients with this one, as well. Grains, flour, beans and such are going to be hard to replace. But I have been incorporating as much of the diet as I can and feel lighter and more energetic.

It’ll be a gradual change, but I figure it’ll be worth it. And in another 50 years or so, Smucker’s will be wishing me a happy birthday. Not through Willard Scott, though. Unless he’s a paleo guy, of course.

And that means no more Smucker’s.

 

Back in the vegan saddle

Last month, I had a physical and talked to my doctor about diet, exercise, the whole shebang.

I told her I had tried going vegan last May and loved the way it made me feel – the weight loss, the energy, the satisfaction of showing some will power.

I told her I had tried going vegan for a month last May, though I snapped and binged on the 25th day. So now I’m giving myself a safety valve.

I’m going omnivore on Sundays.

After six straight days of grains, fruits, veggies and – hmm, . . . can’t think of any ands – I get to eat anything I want. The things I had avoided all week. The cookies, the steak, the chicken quesadillas. If it has egg, cheese or meat – preferably beef – I’m glommin’ it.

It’s still hard to get through the weeks sometime, primarily because it’s really difficult to come up with interesting recipes night after night. I mean, I’ve just jettisoned some pretty huge food groups, making my usually decent repertoire pretty thin.

But I’m determined to make it through to my April appointment to see if I can make an impact on my weight and health.

 

 

The end of my vegan month (almost)

Well, to be honest, it was 25 days.

That was how long it took me before I was just feeling really rotten one day. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and I felt jittery and weak.

Being well-acquainted with the restorative powers of ice cream, I went for a Klondike bar.

I didn’t stop there. I later had a slice of pizza and a chicken sandwich.

I ended my vegan almost-month with a binge.

I continued to eat throughout the weekend. It was Memorial Day weekend, after all. And what’s more, two brand new authentic Mexican tacquerias opened in town. Actually eating those was about the only really good decision I made all weekend.

So after a few days of getting back into old eating habits – though in reduced quantities, I’m happy to say – I started getting heartburn again. Like every day.

Now, I’m looking at ways to become as vegan as possible (avap for short).

I’m glad and a bit proud that I went 25 days without consuming any animal products. I learned how difficult it can be.

Now, I’m going to go and incorporate what I learned into my regular diet.

Even the binge was valuable. I’m pretty sure now that I wasn’t just imagining that I felt better and a little more energetic when I was veganizing.

I’m pretty sure I won’t ever go entirely vegan. There are occasions and places where there’s just some excellent food I want to enjoy.

But I’m cutting back drastically on the animal products I consume. I choose vegetable oil over butter (not margarine, blecch!) I drink a lot less milk. I nibble on nuts instead of cheese.

And the reason is, I really don’t mind trading something a bit more boring, since I now crave the lighter, healthier and happier feeling more than I do the voluptuous flavor of steaks, chicken and melted cheese.

Well, usually.

Time to learn some new recipes

I’m more than halfway through my vegan month and the one thing I haven’t done much of yet is learn new recipes.

So far, I’ve been relying on things I already know, with modifications. But I can’t make vegetable stir-fry over noodles or rice every day.

I did try a vegetable soup sold in a little package, just adding some garlic, onions, celery and seasonings.

Last night, I didn’t really feel like doing anything complicated, so I went to that standby nachos. Only this time, I made two versions; a cheesy version for my wife and son and another for myself that just includes all the same veggies and beans, but no cheese. Of course, I also made sure I bought the refried beans made without lard.

But now it’s time to crack those vegan recipe books I got from the library and photocopy some of the recipes so I can take them back before they’re overdue.

Even the one with the picture of a guy in a lab coat on the cover.

Who the hell puts a dude in a lab coat on the cover of a cookbook?

The first week – learning the balance

I’m sitting at a lovely little coffee/ice cream shop eating a black bean burger, thinking I need to learn how to make these at home.

Today marks my first full week of V-days and I’m feeling pretty good about it.

For one thing, I stepped on the scales this morning and saw that I’m 13 pounds lighter than I was when I started this thing.

I realize that sounds like a dangerous pace of weight loss. I should probably have consulted a doctor before doing this, though I think I’m going to wait until the month is over to do so.

It occurs to me I’m kind of doing a Morgan Spurlock in reverse. If he survived his month of eating only McDonald’s food while filming the documentary “Super Size Me”, I should be able to handle my month going in the opposite direction health-wise.

And really, I feel fantastic.

There’s less weight on my sore knee. I get around more easily than before. And when I look in the mirror, my face looks thinner. (Nobody has told me I look any different yet, though, so I’m waiting to see of others do start noticing. I particularly hope to hear that from people who don’t know that I’m doing this.)

On the flip side, I haven’t enjoyed eating as much as I do when I’m open to eating everything – and I do mean everything.

This black bean burger is kind of the exception. So is fresh produce. I’ve eaten a lot of juicy oranges, mangoes, cantaloupes and tomatoes as snacks in the past week. I can never get enough of that stuff.

On the other hand, the eggplant wrap I had at a sandwich shop yesterday was about a notch above putting onions on cardboard.

Really, I haven’t eaten too much that’s awful in the past week. On the other hand, I haven’t had much that’s exciting, either.

And that’s where the balance comes in.

Eating is, or at least it should be, a relatively small part of life, I figure. It has become much smaller to me now.

One big reason is I can’t grab a Twix bar when I’m at the checkout counter or microwave a cheesy tortilla every time I get the munchies at home.

I do get tempted by those things. It’s fairly easy to resist, though, because I realize that’s the sacrifice I have to make to feel better overall.

There’s a popular saying you’ve probably heard: “No food tastes as good as being thin feels.”

True.Very true.

That one menu item

Seems that most restaurants offer one or two vegan items, if they offer anything at all.

Often, one of those items is a fruit cup or something, which isn’t the same as offering an entree.

Since most of their customers are omnivorous (I think that’s a safe assumption, reflected by their menus), that one item it appears is a way of throwing a bone to the few veg-heads they encounter.

Yeah, I know, that’s kind of a screwy phrase to use when referring to people who don’t eat things with bones.

If I don’t like that one token item, I’m left looking for the next best thing and saying, ‘Can you hold the cheese?’ or something like that.

I’m not criticizing them, though, since their decisions are obviously driven by the market.

Hopefully, though, those offerings will  become more diverse, though that will only happen if people who want those options tell the businesses what they’re looking for.

What can I eat?

Meatless chili, vegetable stir-fry on noodles.

I’m starting to run out of the vegan recipes I already know. It won’t take long for me and my family to become hopelessly bored with my limited herbivore repertoire.

Undoubtedly, the time has come for me to learn how to make some new dishes.

At my wife’s suggestion, I found some cookbooks at the library. I’ve been sifting through them and will photocopy some of the recipes that catch my eye.

The thing that intimidates me, though, is all this talk of quinoa, tofu and imitation egg to hold your pancakes (or whatever) together.

It seems those are things that non-vegans rarely eat, if ever. Just hearing about them conjure images of granola hippies with dreadlocks tied into some kind of macrame.

Don’t get me wrong. I like those people and want to continue to befriend them. But I also want to continue to associate with the guy who’s at the drive-through ordering the triple-decker bacon, cheese and organ-meat-lover’s burger.

In short, I just want to eat healthy; not divorce myself from society.

And if I start making Quinoa/kale burgers and algae smoothies at every meal, I probably won’t get a lot of people wanting to come over and nosh with me.

Let’s make this clear – I’m not doing this as a political statement. As far as I’m concerned, if it weren’t for the heart-clogging cholesterol and excessive protein and calories that those foods deliver, animals would be totally fucked. There’d be no reason for me not to eat them.

That’s not to say I’m oblivious to their suffering. I believe strongly that they should be kept in humane, free-range environments when possible and that people should eat far less of them than we do. Meat should be an occasional treat, rather than the pillar of our diet.

It’s just that – why do they have to be so damn delicious?

But who knows; at the end of this month, I may become a confirmed v-man who can’t walk through the supermarket’s meat section without gagging or weeping.

Or, I may head straight for that drive-through.