"When we lose twenty pounds... we may be losing the twenty best pounds we have! We may be losing the pounds that contain our genius, our humanity, our love and honesty." Woody Allen

           It’s hard to write about diets because there is no uniformity of experience.  Each of us elderly folk seems to have a unique dietary requirement and meet it in different ways.  We all love to talk about our various digestive troubles and punctuate our soliloquy with body sounds to prove our point.  Talking about diets also fills the void left by the abhorrence of discussing politics and religion.

            I am convinced that metabolisms do vary greatly.  I’ve known persons who if they ate a 5 oz. candy bar would gain 2 lbs. Others could eat a small horse and lose a size in their waistline.  Some have medical problems that cannot be denied - diabetes, ulcers, heartburn, involuntary chronic peptic disgorgement and others.

            Diets raise their ugly heads whenever you have a meal out to socialize with friends.  Everyone has a diet that must be catered for.  You usually go to a place that offers a menu with high-fiber, low-carbohydrate, no-sugar, lactose-free, glutenless, open-range vegetarian fare.  There aren’t many such places so we don’t go out often.

            I’m lucky in that my digestive system seems normal – most of the time.  In fact, I usually ignore it.   I can eat what I want, when I want, and it is difficult for me to gain weight.  I usually skip breakfast – a habit formed in college when another ten minutes of sleep in the morning was more desirable than a plate of greasy scrambled eggs.  If the mood hits me, I eat a small lunch but have a full dinner and snack until bedtime.  After I fall asleep I stop eating.

            I make use of my normality by purposefully showing off when I do go out for a meal with aged friends.  I’ll order a thick juicy steak and oily onion rings topped with a heap of whipped cream.  I have to tip the waiter well. Dessert is usually apple pie with chili sauce – the latter an archeological remnant of my New Mexico heritage.  I avoid salads. My friends frequently have bean sprouts and haggis with their pabulum.

©2014 Lester C. Welch