Donuts & Diets

A Slightly Skewed Look At Life By And For Those Of Us On The North Side Of 50

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Some time ago, my new Bible (the collection of 356 monthly mailings from the AARP) published a blurb about a medical study conducted on the health-benefit scent of doughnuts. I ripped the article out, fully intending to savor every word. I knew I had to be certain of all my facts so that I could properly defend myself during the inevitable argument I would have with my wife once I proposed that we henceforth adjourn to Dunkin’ Donuts every morning for “special time” together.

This new routine would be in lieu of our customary practice of spending breakfast time at home sipping Sunnshyne Rainbeaux Consciousness Herbal Tea and eating Peaceful Sunlight Gentle Breezes Valley Farms Seventy-Grain-Whole-Wheat-All-the-Taste-Removed Toast, with All-Natural Sunflower and Jasmine Butter-like Substance-That-Is-Of-the-Same-Consistency-As-Last-Tuesday’s-Oatmeal Spread (with, of course, a dollop of saffron-brulee artichoke and pomegranate jelly).

Unfortunately, that article mysteriously “disappeared” before I actually had the chance to read it, but it did get me thinking … and hoping. What if that was just the first in a series of food-related medical study breakthroughs? Imagine what might await us!

“Potato Chips with Onion Dip: Miracle Skin Revitalizer!”

“Cinnamon Buns with Big Ol’ Hunks O’ Melting Butter: What Doctors Won’t Tell You About This Ab-Tightening Secret”

“Heart-Healthy Oreos”

“Biceps Women Crave: The Hidden Benefits of Burger King’s Double Whopper with Cheese”

“Say Good-bye to Liver Spots: The Real Secret Ingredient in Original Recipe Kentucky Fried Chicken”

“Chocolate Fudge Brownies with Ice Cream … The New Salad”

Perhaps I am being a bit too optimistic. The guilt I feel regarding my eating habits is not just speaking to me now; it’s issuing Parris-Island-Marine-boot-camp-warnings-over-loudspeakers-designed-to-transmit-sound-across-the-Grand-Canyon-type shouts.

The problem, you see, is that I am now at an age where I find that even just driving past a fast food establishment causes me to gain 1.2 pounds (not to mention all that unsightly drooling).

My wife, unimpressed with the size of the shadows I now cast at the beach, insists I eat salad and fruit to offset my scientific food experimentation … a LOT of salad and fruit; so much salad and fruit that our financial advisor suggested it would be more cost effective if we purchased a small farm in California. We did (along with—for some inexplicable reason—a set of chipped Pyrex cookware; a beach umbrella with mismatched chair; the use of a migrant farm worker nicknamed “Boogaloo”; a donkey(?); and a nearly-complete 1989 set of Topps baseball cards formerly owned by “Mikey”). But perhaps I digress.

The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that not only did my wife steal that invaluable donut article; I think she actually planted that article to begin with—just her little way of joking around. (“Of course you can have cheddar-flavored chocolate fudge donut French-fry cereal for breakfast! NOT!”) She thinks she can just go ahead and fool me all the time, but let me tell you: this husband doesn’t let himself get fooled too often by anyone!

I can recall quite clearly a Tuesday luncheon about three years ago when she tried to convince me that the tomato and tofu bisque soup I was about to taste-test was in fact an experimental multi-topping pizza. But there were no pepperonis or sausages in the “soup”, so her little subterfuge didn’t fool me ONE BIT! By the time I nearly finished a second bowl, I think I had some of it figured out.

I’d actually like to share even more examples of how my smarty-pants wife doesn’t fool me (I can recall a pretty good example of that just this past January), but dinner beckons. My wife told me she’s giving me a break: no salad today for this guy!

I’m going to have a big Texas-sized steak with a two pound baked potato stuffed to the rafters with butter, bacon, and cheese, with blueberry pie a la mode for dessert. Yes sirree, just as soon as I can pick the lock on these handcuffs and figure out how to slide the closet deadbolt using only my shoelaces, I am going to step out into the light and eat like a king!

“Hey honey, my fingers are starting to tingle. Are you sure this was in the chapter on foreplay?”