Those of you who have been following my blog know that I am a self-diagnosed sugarholic. You also know that I recently had an appointment with a nutritionist.  Here is my account, and reflection, of the visit.

Maybe my expectations were too high. My reasons for going to see the nutritionist were to coordinate the conflict between the two diets I am supposed to be following and to come up with a food plan that would lower my A1c (a number that diabetics follow) and make my pee less susceptible to kidney stones (a low oxalate diet).   I left with a plan and it’s a plan I could have done on my own. She was not a sorcerer, she was a nutritionist.

We discussed my relationship with food at length. The appointment lasted an hour and fifteen minutes. I was weighed and measured. The scale gave more detailed info than just weight. It measured percentage of fat, a number I choose not to share with you! It was determined that my relationship with food is too much in my head and that I eat from habit and boredom.  Hmmm.  She didn’t say taste!

She, for the most part, ignored the Type 2 diabetes and high oxalate diagnoses.  Don’t worry too much about the glycemic index of foods, just lose weight and the numbers will follow.  She seemed to ignore the oxalate completely.  Oxalate, shmoxalate.

So I was given a traditional weight loss diet to follow. Eat in moderation from the food groups. Blah blah blah and yada yada yada.  My goal is 1700 calories a day. Because I am fairly active, that should lead to weight loss.  So far I have lost four pounds, about a pound a day. I am trusting that she is correct that if I just lose weight my diabetes will improve.  Oh and the low oxalate diet? Never mentioned. That’s partly my fault. I should have asked more questions.  In today’s world we each need to be our own healthcare advocate!

So, I am following my diet as closely as possible. Yesterday I attended an Open House at my alma mater, Muhlenberg College. The spread of desserts was so tempting.  But I behaved. Well, I had a small blueberry scone at the continental breakfast. In my defense, I expected a fruit tray but all they had were apples. I don’t like apples…I do like blueberry scones.

I also didn’t get much help with getting food out of my head. I was told to make sure emotion is not attached to food and to look at food as just an energy suppler.  I am not supposed to think how good it feels when that Hagen Daz Swiss Vanilla Almond ice cream meets my tongue. I’m not supposed to associate a Thanksgiving meal with wonderful family memories.  I am not supposed to think how much I hate whole wheat bread.  It’s nothing but energy supplied!  In other words….I need willpower. Uh oh.

We meet again in four weeks to see how I am doing. I will definitely ask more about oxalates. I sure don’t want kidney stones! In retrospect, I could have just gone on a weight loss diet. But a positive thing about going to the nutritionist is that I have one more person holding me accountable.  But I realize, she’s a nutritionist, not a sorcerer.

I am off to the Bucks County Book Festival today!  I hope you all enjoy your October day and remember that any October night is a marvelous night for a moondance!

 

My name is Dennis and I am a sugarholic. I love sugar in all its unhealthy forms.  I need something sweet at the end of every meal, even breakfast. My mid-meal snacks tend to be filled with sugar. Sugar makes me happy! But sugar is also slowly killing me. I know this and continue to crave it. Cakes, pies, cookies, pudding, ice cream, doughnuts! Send them my way, please.

I am a Type 2 diabetic.  I take 1500 mg of Metformin every day. I am reasonably active hiking, walking and kayaking. They say you can control Type 2 Diabetes with diet and exercise. I am okay with the exercise part but my diet is out of control.  Seriously out of control.  My cravings are ridiculous. I need ice cream, so I go out and get a pint of Hagen Daz Swiss Vanilla Almond. My intention is to eat half and save the rest for tomorrow. That, literally, never happens. I always eat the whole pint!

My willpower has disappeared. I believe it may be wherever Jimmy Hoffa ended up! I’ve seen my willpower on the back of a milk carton. My willpower is as non-existent as a Democrat in Wyoming. I’ve had willpower in the not too distant past. When I was first diagnosed, a couple years ago, I lost thirty pounds fairly easily. But that right there is part of my problem.  I know I can do it, so…..I’ll just start next week, or the week after.

If fixing a problem is first recognizing that you have a problem, I am there.  I need help with this and I know it. Tomorrow I have an appointment with a nutritionist. Medicare pays for three visits this year and two visits every year after. Thank you Democrats. She has her work cut out for her. Along with cutting down on carbs for my diabetes, I am also, according to my urologist, supposed to cut down on proteins and vegetables. What diet tells you not to eat too many vegetables!?  Like I said, the nutritionist has her work cut out for her!

Please wish me luck! My appointment is noon tomorrow and I plan to try my best to do whatever she tells me to do.  I know it won’t be easy. To celebrate my last day of eating whatever I damn well please, I had a French Toast bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. My dessert for that meal is a blueberry turnover!!!  I haven’t eaten the turnover yet, but it is within my reach. It looks so delicious that I may not be able to finish this blogpo

 

I’ve already told my kids that when I die I wish to be cremated. I also told them that I want them to quietly release my ashes into my hometown’s stream, Trout Creek.  It sounds like I am talking about a water of death rather than a water of life. But this place, or at least a certain section of it, helped form my life. It’s where many of my memories are.  It’s where I spent much of my childhood. It’s where I caught my first fish! It’s where I felt happiest.

Trout Creek (also known as Shit Creek, more on that later) starts as a trickle west of the village of Slatedale. It flows behind the Slatedale Baseball Field and under Lovers Lane. It makes its way behind the village of Emerald and gradually makes its way into Slatington’s western border.  It’s here that my section of the creek, or as we called it in Slatington…crick, begins.

Devil’s Rock, a giant arrowhead of rock bursts upward through the water. Shortly after that, the swimming hole of my older brothers and sister. It was only a few inches deep in my day! My first fish was caught, fishing with my dad, from the old wooden bridge that led from Seventh Street to the slate quarries. After the bridge, Seventh Street became The Old Road, dirt well until I was in my twenties.  The bridge is no longer there.

Next came the trestle bridge. As a kid, it was a big adventure to cross it on foot and not fall in between the railroad ties. In hindsight, it really wasn’t that hard. It was certainly nothing like the scene in the movie “Stand By Me”! The Coal Rocks were next. I am not sure why they had that name, but it was certainly one of the best places to catch fish on the creek.

Farther downstream is Around The World Island. Not much of an island, but an island nonetheless. In this area the Boy Scouts constructed a cable overhand bridge, two cables hung in parallel.  Hands were on the one cable and  feet on the other. We would cross this while our friends would be throwing big rocks into the creek below us trying to make us fall.

Kern’s Dam, or what was left of it, is farther downstream. I think there was some historical significance to Kern’s Dam, but to us it was a good place to fish or swim in the water just past the dam.

Remember when I said Trout Creek was also known as Shit Creek? Here is why. A bit past Kern’s dam and just under the Main Street Bridge, Slatington’s sewer system emptied into the creek. Yes, really! In the 1960s!  We could see the toilet paper waving to us from the water coming out of the big emptying pipes.  Yuck! Don’t eat any fish caught just below what we called, for some reason, the Shit Hooks! This was life before environmental regulations.

I didn’t know the creek much past this area. But it flows maybe another mile before emptying into the Lehigh River just south of the Slatington-Walnutport Bridge.

Water of Life indeed! So many great memories triggered by writing this post.  I hope you enjoyed my little trip Gently Down the Stream.  The Slate Heritage Trail, one of the valley’s many wonderful rails to trails, goes right along the creek in the area I wrote about. On a pleasant, autumn day you may want to take a walk along Trout Creek. Don’t worry, the Shit Hooks are long gone!

 

 

 

 

 

I’m a curious person. I like people (though, unfortunately, less and less). I like to imagine what other peoples’ lives are like. My daughter, Emma, has similar tendencies. If we are driving somewhere, and see someone walking, she will ask me what do I think they are thinking about…or where do you think they were. Curiosity….and something about a cat!

The lives of other people. Here is one that has always piqued my interest…Gangster’s Goon.  You know who I am talking about? Those two or three, usually men, who just hang around a gangster and seem to be there to meet his needs, whatever they may be. They may be asked to “rough someone up”, “escort someone to the door”, back up what the boss is saying, etc.  But, based only on what I see on TV, they spend a lot of time just standing around!

So does that make it the best job ever?  Sounds pretty boring to me…unless it is one of those days that you get to rough someone up! Just kidding.

Are there interviews for the Goon position?  What would they be asked?  How long can you stand in one place?  Can you fake laugh at things you don’t think are funny?  Are you strong enough to knock someone out with one punch?  Can you work in a smoky environment?  Can you make a good pair of cement boots? Do you have a conscience?

So, you get the job! Now what?  Is there a time clock? Is there a dress code? How and when am I paid? Do I get a vacation? What happens if my kid gets sick in school…can I go pick them up?  Uh…I’m guessing no.

Enquiring minds want to know!  But, certainly, once you get this job you can’t leave for another.  Can you imagine telling your boss that you are giving two weeks notice? Can you imagine telling him that you have decided to work for a different gangster because the benefits are better? No way!

So, that’s where my mind has wandered this Saturday morning. I hope you enjoy your day and your thoughts go in a more productive direction than mine!

 

I live near the Jaindl turkey farms.  Their headquarters are on Coffeetown Road, in North Whitehall Township.  The shelters where they raise the turkeys are spread out on many acres within a one mile radius of the headquarters.  My guess is that there are thousands of turkeys!  The other acreage in the area is devoted to crops to feed the turkeys.

I remember, in the spring, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the chicks that would live here and grow. They eventually did arrive and it was nice to see the shelters change color from a drab grey and brown to the same with a topping of white.  Over the summer, you could see the turkeys growing in size. Now when you look at the shelters you see mostly white.

My daughter, Emma, and I travel these roads frequently and developed a tradition of shouting “Turkey Lurkey” when the shelters first become visible.  But we both know that the turkeys’ time is growing short. Jokes about that become less funny as the time approaches.  Actually, Emma never found them that funny. I call it laughing in the face of adversity.

This morning, about 6:30 am , I was making a semi-retired jaunt to Dunkin Donuts. I saw a truck carrying cages of turkeys, hundreds of them, to their demise.  I was glad Emma wasn’t with me!  I was taken aback for just a second. I know it is that time of year.  But still, it is one of those events that make you think about going vegetarian.

I have many reasons for going vegetarian. It’s healthier. It means that I am not participating in the mass killing of animals for food.  It fits in with my Buddhist religious beliefs. But, I have been an omnivore my entire life. Growing up it was meat, potato, vegetable.  Plus, meat is just plain delicious. I’ve tried the switch before and never lasted more than a week.  I know myself. It is not going to happen.

So I have to reconcile the fact that the turkeys who looked out at me as I drove by are soon going to be on someone’s table.  I’ll tell myself that they had a good summer in the Jaindl Shelters. I am sure that they ate well.  I’ll tell myself all about the cycle of life. I’ll remind myself that humans have canine teeth for a reason.

On Thanksgiving I will eat turkey. That white meat is so delicious.  But I will say a Buddhist before meal prayer: “Thank you to those that gave their labors and their lives for this meal.”

So if any of you are driving down Coffeetown Road and wonder why, along the road, it looks like it snowed…yeah, it’s feathers.

 

 

 

That’s what my mom used to say to me if I would leave a door open that should have been closed.  I heard it often.  Yesterday I attended a wedding and reception in a barn.

It was beautiful site for a wedding, just outside the barn. The couple, my great nephew and his bride, could not have asked for better weather. The site of the wedding was the Old Homestead Golf Course, in New Tripoli, PA.

The reception was in the barn itself. It was a huge barn!  It was minimally decorated so it retained the barn feel.  It was hard to imagine that years ago, hay and animals resided here.  Barns have come a long way. Weddings and receptions in barns are a trending tradition. If you own a barn, you may want to consider this. There is money to be made!

The wedding was beautiful. It was a blending of two cultures. My great nephew, Corey,was born in the United States and his bride, Quynh, was born in Vietnam. My niece and Corey’s mom, Kim, made a beautiful speech about how amazing things can happen when love is involved…that a little girl born in Vietnam could meet a little boy from Kutztown, PA and fall in love.  It truly is a small world after all.

As an introvert, on the morning of the wedding, I regretted my acceptance RSVP. But I am glad I went, as I got to see many family members I hadn’t seen for a long, long time. I also got to spend time with my two remaining brothers. We are all getting older. How many more times together will we have? Hopefully many, but it is important to treasure the time we have.

Speaking of the time we have. It is time to close this post. But I want to end it by thanking my readers. If only one of you reads this post, it means that my blog has been read 2,000 times!  I am honored for that to have happened.

Enjoy another beautiful fall day (in the Lehigh Valley at least) and my best goes out to Corey and Quynh. May many more amazing things happen because of their love!

Okay. That title was just to draw you in. It’s not about Jane Austen, nor is it about Pride and Prejudice. Of Jane Austen’s books, Northanger Abbey is my favorite anyway.  So why did I want to draw you in?  I have a secret!

I like chick flicks!  I do. That is not a position that men in our society are supposed to take. Even though much progress has been made in de-machoizing our society, a man saying he likes chick flicks may be a bridge too far. I’m not gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that (thank you Jerry Seinfeld for that, now automatic perfect reply).  I just like stories about relationships.

Tonight I plan to see The Bookshop. It’s a movie playing at Civic Theater.  Its trailer sets it up as a chick flick…with books!! Can’t wait.

What is a chick flick anyway? Well, it’s a terrible word choice. I used to run a group for domestic abusers. Using the word “chick” in group would have cost them a dollar. No barnyard names for women! I guess the better definition is a movie that is more likely to appeal to women than to men. Of course, that is stereotyping at its finest.  A movie based on people and their interactions with others is more likely to appeal to a woman. But, it also appeals to me. To me there is nothing more exciting than watching the ebb and flow of relationships. That’s real life!

The fact that we all have our different tastes makes this an interesting world. I certainly don’t begrudge people who prefer Man flicks (What are they called?).  Seeing super heroes do their thing does nothing for me. Car chases… boring. Explosions…meh.  I don’t mind a little violence now and then if it is realistic. For example, I like Game of Thrones, but dragons, really?  Haha.

Probably my favorite chick flick of all time is Mystic Pizza. On a side note, when I was in Mystic, CT,  I ate at Mystic Pizza, the shop made famous in the movie. I kept looking for Julia Roberts in an apron, but alas, no. Four Weddings and a Funeral is also a favorite.  That movie even had poetry, another thing men aren’t “supposed” to like.  Another movie favorite, a classic, Breakfast at Tiffany’s.  Chocalat is one more.  I could go on, but I won’t. Here’s one I didn’t like… Dirty Dancing…mostly because of one line…”Nobody puts baby in a corner.” Hahaha.

So, let’s all keep open minds. Let’s step out of our comfort zones. Let’s not just do things, or like things, because that’s what we are supposed to do or like.  It’s a big, wide wonderful world out there!! Let’s explore!

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this topic. What is your favorite chick flick?  Maybe some of my male readers will let their guards down and share.  Tonight I will be at Civic for The Bookshop. Maybe I will see you there!

 

 

 

A horse walks into a bar. Bartender says “Hey, why the long face?”.   Hahahaha. If someone expects me to tell a joke, I will always come out with this one. My daughter is tired of hearing it. But it’s one of the few jokes I know. I was never good at remembering jokes. Even if I do remember them, being an introvert, I am not likely to be sharing them.  But I really admire those people who can tell a good joke or a long funny story. That’s just not in my wheelhouse.

My favorite comedian is Mitch Hedberg. Unfortunately, a drug overdose took him  away from us way too soon.  I have a cd of Mitch performing live. I have probably listened to it at least twenty times.  I never get tired of his jokes. If I am down about something I can just put the cd in and laugh my down into an up. Just reading his jokes doesn’t really cut it because so much is in his delivery. But here’s a favorite of mine: “I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just going to ask them where they’re going and hook up with them later!”.

Steven Wright, Jerry Seinfeld, and Lewis Black are some other favorites of mine. Oh, and who doesn’t like Raymond the Amish Comic!  Here is a Steven Wright joke:  ” I went to a restaurant that serves “breakfast at any time”. So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance.” Funny stuff!

Comedians should hold a special place in our lives. They make us laugh at ourselves. They expose truths that maybe, as a society, we really don’t want to face.  Comedians push the boundaries and find a way to talk about topics that are usually not discussed, like death and sex and politics and religion .  Plus, they make you laugh! What could be better than that in these strange times?

There is a place where you can take classes on stand-up comedy. The classes run for twelve weeks.   The class culminates with an actual gig in a Philly comedy club.  I’m semi-retired. It’s crossed my mind. But the introvert in me said…no way!  But reading about comics it seems that many of them describe themselves as introverts. To me that means that they are courageous risk takers as well.  Me, not so much.

Who are your favorite comedians? Why do you like them in particular?

To end this post, I will share the joke I will trot out if someone demands a second joke. Are you ready? The invisible man married the invisible woman. Their kids weren’t much to look at either!

 

 

 

This is not a political rant. But, I have been reading and seeing so much about the attempted rape controversy involving Supreme Court nominee, Brett Kavanaugh, it brought back a lot of memories from when I worked as a Sexual Abuse/ Sexual Assault/ Rape Victim Counselor.

I had this job for four years, as an employee of Crime Victims Council of Lehigh Valley.  CVC is the rape crisis center for Lehigh and Northampton Counties.  It was one of the most frustrating jobs I ever had. It was also one of the most rewarding jobs of my career.

Why was it frustrating?  There are a few reasons. First, I got to see and hear a lot of what my gender does to the female gender. I found it embarrassing, and depressing how violent, yet cowardly, men could be.  Another reason for frustration was the large amount of clients not showing up for their appointments.  I learned often that the main reason for the no shows is that some days it is just too hard to talk about. Finally, frustration arose because I could see how difficult it was for my client to become a survivor, rather than a victim.  Sometimes they have dealt with the PTSD from the abuse or assault for decades. They never knew what would trigger them so they lived in a constant state of fear. Relationships were often difficult for them.

Why was it rewarding? Because, sometimes, I would see a woman regain her self confidence and control. Sometimes, I would see a woman have the first healthy relationship with a male. Sometimes, you would see them nervous and shy at a first session and then by the end of our counseling relationship I would see them smile and laugh and be optimistic.  That was wonderful to see.

We had to be on call every few weeks. If a rape victim showed up at a hospital ER, we were called to be a support for the rape victim, if they wanted the support.  I remember the first time I went to the hospital and met a twenty year old victim of date rape. I assumed she would not want a man hanging around for a rape exam. She surprised me by saying she wanted me to be with her while the exam was performed.  She went through the torture of the exam…the insertion of instruments, the taking of hair samples, the scraping of the insides of her fingernails.  I stayed with her during the exam and we talked about books and literature. The exam took about an hour, I think. When it was finally over and she was released to go home she said to the nurse that she wanted to take me home until she was all over the rape.

The next time it was an eighteen year old victim of date rape. I supported her during her rape exam. During the exam, the nurse told her they were unable to contact her father. She told the nurse that it was ok, because Dennis is my dad right now. I remember leaving the hospital when that was over. I sat in my car and cried for a few minutes.

Frustrating and rewarding. That was the job. But what these women were going through was so much worse. I saw a lot of date rape victims in counseling. That scares me to death being the father of a soon to be sixteen year old.

I know longer do that work, though I do have an occasional client who has abuse in her past.  It remains frustrating and rewarding.

 

Uncle is a funny word if you look at it sitting there all by itself.  I’m not sure of the source of the word. But uncles are often big parts of our lives. An uncle is either the male sibling of a parent or the husband of a female sibling of a parent. But, sometimes it is an honorary title given to unrelated males close to the family.

Why am I thinking about uncles?  I just got back from the memorial service for my last remaining uncle, Uncle Vincent.  He was 96 when he died. I had five uncles growing up. I loved them all and have fond memories of lives shared with them. Interestingly, four of the five worked for Bethlehem Steel!

I’ve been an uncle since I was six years old.  I remember telling my parents that when my sister had her baby I hoped it would be a monkey because then I could be a monkey’s uncle! A monkey’s uncle! That’s an interesting phrase. Or how about “Cry Uncle”?  Getting “a letter from Uncle Sam!” “Bob’s your uncle”, more famous in Great Britain and on Fawlty Towers. Being scolded like a “Dutch uncle” is another.

I enjoy being an uncle, though I don’t see my nieces and nephews as often as I used to.  But, like Willie Nelson sang, they are always on my mind.  I hope I have been a good uncle. My family is large and growing. I am a great uncle many times and a great, great uncle a few times too.  Feel free to consider those greats as adjectives as well as part of the title!

I am closing this post with a tribute to famous uncles we all know and love. Uncle Joe (he’s moving kind of slow) from Petticoat Junction. Uncle Bill from Family Affair. Uncle Jesse from Full House (have mercy!).  Uncle Fester from The Addams Family! Uncle Leo (Jerry!) from Seinfeld.  And last but not least, The Man From U.N.C.L.E.! Wait, I guess that one doesn’t fit.

Uncles! That really is a funny word. If this post made you think about your own uncles, maybe it is time to check in with them.  After all, life goes really fast and before you know it they are gone.

I am looking out my window and I see Florence has arrived, fortunately in a much diminished form.  Remember, some people walk in the rain and others just get wet!