Friday, September 4, 2009

What About Walter?

What About Walter?

Hi, My name is Joy and I am an addict. Certainly not as sexy as a heroin addict with tracks or a coke addict with a collapsed nose, nor, even an alcoholic with blackouts. I am addicted to food. I am fat. Oh, you noticed?

I am so well adjusted to my fat, that I have named it Walter and Walter is my boyfriend. Yes, I named my fat .... Walter.

I would rather spend time making Walter happy than almost anything. We plan breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks together. None of that fast food stuff. Not good enough for Walter. Walter is what I like to refer to as "healthy fat" or "rich woman's fat". There isn't a five star restaurant in this town that Walter hasn’t attended, enjoyed or who’s food is now attached to his "girth". Great word, Girth. The sound makes me hungry.

Walter and I have been lovers for many years now. We have broken up often and I have seriously attempted to stay away, but somehow I always go back. I go back and embrace Walter because I am .... Yes indeed, a Walter addict. Food, all except cottage cheese, is my drug of choice and boy do I embrace it, own it, dream about it, love it,
It's a curse. I want to be free, but I love food and I love to eat. Throw it up? Spit it out? Walk past it? Not a chance. It calls me. Mallowmars beckon me in the middle of the night. At lunch I plan dinner. In my dreams I plan catered events. In the morning I wake up and eat before opening my eyes and Walter loves it and hangs on tightly to me.

I was born a middle class Jewish girl who early on was addicted to Gerbers and anything else my overly concerned for health mother could shove down my throat. All of us 1950s kids were chubby. And if you were oddly skinny you were being overfed with c hocolate malts and milk shakes to gain weight.

To this day I am drawn to walk down the baby food isle I still look for Gerber strained prunes. You laugh …. Try it.

It was evident early on that I really liked to eat and was blessed with a metabolism and an active life, that I was never fat or even much overweight but food became a means by which I could feel full and full was happy. I always considered the "poor children in Europe who were starving" and cleaned my plate with a sense of purpose. Wonder why they never said starving American children?!

Food was never difficult to acquire. My father was a produce merchant with several green grocery stores in what is n ow called Koreatown. A sudden craving was met by a single phone call ..... He would bring it home. How convenient.

My mother was an excellent cook and even a better baker. We never had store bought cookies or cakes, although I did wait every day for the Helms Truck to deliver right out side the front door with assorted delights. The truck arrived between 3 and 5 and my father arrived at 6, so every need was easily met.

By High School, my love of food was so great that when we (my best friend Elaine and I) had multiple invitations to sweet sixteen parties on the same day, we would call the hotel or restaurant and find out what was being served, to better decide which party to attend. Sometimes I am drawn to that behavior today.

What do you think we were doing in the drive-in restaurants? EATING.

Peer pressure and bi-phetamine 20s or Black Beauties kept us thin and .... stoned. Who knew?

And then the 1960s. To add to the addiction came marijuana and the munchies. New and unique ways were learned on how to ingest large amounts of sweet, salty, crunchy goods. A heaping tablespoon of chunky peanut butter drowned in the jam jar (not jelly), of choice and then stuck down deep in a box of rice crispes remains a favorite. Think about it.

And now middle age has reared her ugly head and there is no way to loose weight "naturally". Black beaut ies have been replaced by the gym and workout studios, but who really wants to do that? The days of eating anything i want is way over and i am fat.

Have you ever had lunch at Costco? What a treat. Saturday and Sunday are the best days to go. At every corner of the warehouse there is a "sample table" with a treat or goodie. You can go back as many times as you want. Who needs to buy stuff? It's the best free meal in town. And on top of it all, on your way out the door, you can stop and get an all beef kosher hot dog and a diet coke for $1.50. What a deal! Walter loves going to Costco, he tingles.

Chocolate --- who was it that thought that up? Some tribe in South America got high on peyote and found cacao beans and then ... I got fat.

I have decided to quit many time ….. Not cold turkey, of course, but how about, shots, pills, a trainer, in home exercise equipment, even Richard Simmons. And then there is By-pass, lap band. Those are the only two things that I and Walter are just not fat enough to have. Can you believe it?

Imagine the wealth and fame that the scientist who discovers a pill where we could eat everything we want to and not gain weight would have? He could easily start a new religion. I would attend. I would have sex with him. I would fix him up with all my single friends.

Why are Mrs. Fields, Mrs. Beasley and Sarah Lee thin? What's that about? Maybe if I discover some gooey, fattening, confection, manufacture it and sell it, I would lose weight. Does that make sense?

Do you ever wonder why skinny girls don't smile? They are starving to death. Every beautiful shiksa goddess I have ever known ...... doesn't eat. That's right. In the "old days" they just drank coffee and smoked cigarettes. Now they just drink coffee and take vitamins. I drink coffee, I take vitamins…. and I eat.

Anyway, back to my breaking up with Walter. So, the first thing is to cut off Walter's energy. I do this by not eating anything WHITE. No flour (wheat as well) No Sugar, No Potatoes, Rice ...... Walter's energy dissipates and mine increases. He seems depressed and keeps me up at night. Walter is hungry, especially in the morning.

It's been six weeks. So far so good. Walter keeps "calling". He is every food Ad on TV,=2 0and he is on Billboards and in every magazine. He is every dinner invitation and out of town guest. He attends every charity dinner and oversleeps on Marathon day. He is in my dreams and in the dreamy state you get into while driving. The cravings are gone but the reverie and desire remain.

It really is the nostalgia of binges past that drives me crazy.

Blogger design by