On Dieting

For the 4,932nd time in the last six years, I resolved again yesterday to start dieting today. (I find Mondays are usually a good day to start again). I had actually been doing pretty well up until Christmas. In fact, after reaching a high of 310 lbs. at the start of law school, I somehow got below 250 lbs. this December to 245 lbs.--roughly 10 to 15 lbs. short of my goal. This was no small feat given my affinity for donuts, brownies, and cookies--not to mention my tendency towards excess.

By December 2005, I'd dropped a size in clothes and was even fitting into the suit I wore at my wedding! Perhaps more importantly, I no longer was instinctively sucking it in when fit people walked by or pranced across the TV. Instead there was calm.

My suspicion has long been that those daily habits that brought the weight loss actually brought me daily happiness and self-confidence irrespective of whether I was shedding pounds! For whatever reason, I can't ever get myself to belief that until after I've exercised (and am already experiencing it).

Umm...that all changed again at Christmas. With all those edible Christmas delights, New Year's excess, and then the stress filled 6 week business trip, I gradually lost all of my good eating and exercise habits. I didn't think too much of it (latency and lethargy seem to produce their own form of anesthetic that almost masks the happiness that comes with exercise and right eating). Last week I tipped the scales again at 259 lbs. and realized just how far I'd fallen. I'd exercised exactly 3 times in six weeks and started eating just about anything and everything I pleased, at any time I pleased (though I always tried to drink skim milk).

I've been sucking it in ever since.

So as I start again today, for the 4.932nd time, I thought I'd share three maxims that guide my perspective on weight loss:

"Eat to live, not live to eat."
-Who knows

"We never repent of having eaten too little."
-Thomas Jefferson

"Never take weight loss advice from a fat person."
-Aaron Clark

Here's to hoping I won't be starting for the 4,933rd time next Monday.

A Grand Day Out

I am a man prone to excess on certain things. Sometimes I able to control myself, but other times not so much. For the last few weeks I've been in one of those "not so much" phases. (The habit destroying six week business trip didn't help). This might explain why I've had to move back one hole on my belt loop, and why my scale reads 10 lbs. heavier than it did last month, and why I haven't been able to say no to a cookie, brownie, or bowl of ice cream in a long, long time.

Today it was cereal.

For those not adept at counting cereal boxes in photographs, that's 14 boxes of cereal. Jared and I bought them this evening.

I can explain.

First, I was deprived as a child. I grew up the oldest of nine kids in a home where good food rarely lasted more than a day, and treats (e.g., ice cream, cookies, brownies etc.) never more than an hour. Any effort by my parents to alter that shelf life (e.g., hiding things, threatening to cancel Christmas, etc.) only made us more resourceful.

This meant cold cereal rarely found its way to our home--it just didn't last long enough to justify buying. Occassionally we got generic corn flakes or toasted oats, but mostly it was peanut butter toast, oatmeal, or Cream of Wheat. Those fancier cold cereals were things we could only dream about, and which we usually only saw at Christmas time.

So essentially, my purchase tonight was making up for lost time.

Second, Michelle wasn't with me. She wasn't there to whisper that 14 boxes of cereal might be a few too many (it was almost 15, but somehow I found strength to resist buying a $2 box of Cinnamon Life). She might've stopped things at the outset, but she chose instead to be sick and stay at home. I think there were forces at work bigger than all of us tonight that wanted this to happen.

Third, we allocate money in our budget each month now to food storage, which tonight I interpreted as license to buy crazy amounts of non-perishable food when I feel like it. Again, Michelle wasn't there to say otherwise.

Fourth, and most importantly, it was all on sale*. And not just on regular sale either--super sale.

Jared and I went to Target first and found the generic cereals on sale for $1.50 a box. How could I say "no" to knock of Golden Grahams at $1.50 a box? In my mind I couldn't, so I got four boxes.

We then went to Ralph's, which was offering "Buy 10 boxes of Post Cereal for $20 and get a $10 rebate." I bought 10 boxes. I knew full well that I'd just bought 4 boxes of cereal, but I could hardly be expected to pass up name brand cereal at $1 a box. And what's more, I had a $1 coupon, bringing that price down to .90 a box. Even the most tight fisted miser can't pass that up.

So now Jared and I have 14 boxes of cereal stored up in his bedroom closet. What adds more to our joy is that many of these cereals are kinds Michelle won't touch (e.g., Fruity Pebbles). That was mostly on purpose.

After all, I want these cereals to last at least a week.

*I can count on one hand the number of times I have bought cereal when not on sale--it's just one of those things you don't pay full price for except in emergencies.

Not All Donuts Are Created Equal

This past weekend Michelle and I celebrated our 6th anniversary with a trip to San Francisco. There, an otherwise pleasant trip was almost marred on Saturday morning by one of my worst donut experiences of all time.

We'd planned breakfast with some friends at their apartment, and it fell on us to bring pastries. A friend of ours mentioned a local donut place in Menlo Park, "Sweet Amy's," though he couldn't necessarily vouch for its quality. In fact, the fact that it was a donut shop, a deli, a mexican restaurant, and a mini grocery store all in one was not a good sign. Still, I thought it was worth the chance. Donuts are almost always worth the chance.

What we got, though, were some of the most sub par donuts I've ever sampled. To begin with Sweet Amy's has a dismal pastry selection. And what's worse, the donuts were overcooked (likely left in the oil too long--an amateur mistake). Worse still, Sweet Amy charged me $8.75 for my dozen donuts, making them the most expensive donuts I'd ever purchased.

One may wonder why I bothered to purchase them at all, which is a good question. In my defense I can only say that: 1. By the time I knew the price of the donuts, they'd already been selected and packaged (and at the time I thought I either bought those donuts or no donuts at all--and even the worst donuts are usually better than no donuts at all, usually); and 2. I wasn't aware of just how poor a quality the donuts were until we were walking back to the car and I got to inspect them personally.

By the time we got to the car, I knew I'd been ripped off. [Tt's important to note that when I say "we" I'm referring to another friend of mine--Michelle was not with me at the time--if she had been the miracle that followed might never have been allowed to happen.] I didn't have the heart or the energy, though, to bring that to Sweet Amy's attention (I had certainly stopped calling her "Sweet"). It was only as we started to make our way to our friends' apartment in Mountain View that I remembered that I have a Krispy Kreme card that offers a free dozen glazed for every dozen purchased. As we made our way to Mountain View we spoke whistfully about how much more we would've enjoyed 2 dozen Krispy Kreme donuts (and for less money!) rather than these paltry pastries we'd just purchased.

It was then, as got off the freeway onto the Mountain View exit, that we knew there were forces at work larger than both of us. Right there, just off the freeway, was a sign welcoming us to a nearby Krispy Kreme.

The decision took less than a moment. Despite having already invested a previously unheard of amount of money on a dozen glorified biscuits, and despite the fact that our breakfast gathering only involved six people, it was clear we needed to invest in another two dozen Krispy Kremes.

So we did. (I'm just glad Michelle wasn't with us to provide any resistence).

Michelle took the news better than expected (in fact, my friend took most of the blame as an instigator!). And there were donuts. Yes, lots of donuts. In fact, I think before the clock struck noon I'd eaten close to six myself (which might explain why the some of those morning details are hazy--In fact, I probably shouldn't have been driving).

A good time (and a good donut) was had by all--no thanks to Sweet Amy.

On Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day works differently in our house.

I read an article yesterday noting that the average person spends about $100 on Valentine's Day (up from $97 last year). Ridiculous. Michelle and I a few years ago set a rule that we'd allow ourselves to spend no more than $5 on each other.

Of course, it helps that our anniversary comes 4 days later (the 18th), a date well within sight of the 14th, yet still after the price of flowers has fallen from the stratosphere back to normal levels.

The $5 limit has lead to creative gift giving. For instance, three years ago I gave Michelle a laminated card entitling her to a massage a week for a year (with the proper disclaimers on back). Last year I upped the ante and gave a similar card entitling her to a massage a week for the rest of her life (or mine--whichever ends first). For some reason, that wasn't an easy thing to do. Michelle in turn has given me a cookie of the month coupon book, and a miscellaneous good deeds coupon book.

Last year she outdid herself making me a wish jar with wish money. Essentially she gave me $4 in wish money, every penny representing a 5 minute wish (the money could be combined for BIG wishes). I haven't had the heart to do many BIG wishes, though I did try wishing for more wish money (the fine print didn't say I couldn't). I also tried wishing for lengthy tasks to only take five minutes (or to only count for five minutes). For some reason, she never takes those wishes seriously (always alluding to some mysterious "reasonableness" requirement). I think I still have $3 of wishes left. The money was supposed to expire today, but apparently I've been granted an extension since her pregnancy rendered her entirely incapable of granting wishes for three months. I'm thinking of blowing it all on One BIG wish. Any ideas?

At any rate, we both mentioned to each this week that we can't possibly top last year's gifts, and what's more--we don't really want to. We'd have nothing left to give in 2-3 years time. So this year we opted for baser pleasures--chocolate. I got Michelle some Double Chocolate Milano cookies and a Hershey's EXTRA Dark chocolate bar with a poem attached:

These presents are dark.
Like my heart.
Without you.

She got me a Whitman's sampler, as well as a "Time Out!" card that entitles me to, up to twice a day, exclaim "Time Out!" and have five minutes of her undivided attention. Jared got chocolates too. All under $5 a piece.

Tonight Michelle went all out, cooking a meal that could not have tasted any better had it been cooked by the finest restaurants. Chicken Parmesan, Ceaser Salad, Cheese Sticks (absolutely irresistible), Martinelli's Sparkling Cider, and Chocolate Dipped Strawberries for Dessert.
I'm not sure I've ever eaten a finer meal--seriously.

Jared was obviously pleased too (that's mostly chocolate on his face--and he's got a sugar cookies in his hand!).


Hopefully your Valentine's Day went as well as mine did. If not, I'm happy to share some of my chocolates with you.

To Dave (on Biographers)

The post below was originally a response to my friend's comment to my "On Biographers" post. I've thought my response, though, worthy of its own post. Forgive me if you think that error.

Dave,

I wish I'd learned earlier to value your disagreements with me, as I've learned more in my discussions with you than perhaps with any other friend.

Honestly, I hadn't quite expected you to disagree with me, mostly because I wasn't quite sure of my own position. Your comment has had me thinking most of the afternoon, though, and now it seems quite apparent that we disagree.

Responding to President Packer's statement that "some things that are true are not very useful," you contend that nothing that is true is counterproductive. Calling something "counterproductive" is admittedly different than calling something "not useful" because the former seems to mean "damaging," which goes a step beyond merely "unhelpful." I just want to make it clear at the outset that there's a significant difference between the two, and that President Packer used the term "not useful."

There's a great deal that's true that's not very useful, and this is not simply limited to inane truths (like the # of buttons on your phone). I'm certain now that this applies to many of the more juicy truths as well.

For instance, if we know by revelation that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, how can it possibly be useful for us to then note, even in context, the prophet's faults? It's true that understanding all of his actions in context, our position that he was a prophet should not change, but what has it helped? I can't see how it helps. (Some might argue that our ability to honor and sustain him as a prophet in light of knowing his weaknesses would strengthen our faith, which to me would mean taking a very liberal view of "strengthen." I know that, for me, being made aware of a church leader's weaknesses has never strengthened my faith that the leader was nevertheless called of God, even though I'll still sustain that person after learning of them). We knew he was a prophet before, and the light shed on his weaknesses seems like it can only possibily damage that conviction, even if it doesn't ultimately do so.

Even with your Columbus example, assuming he IS the man Nephi spoke of seeing in vision (which I happen to agree with--if not him, who?), you never mention what benefits there are to making us aware that he might have been a racist and ego maniac. Even if it's true, what's the benefit?

You do seem concerned that if I'm not made aware of Columbus' weaknesses, the rest of society will think me ignorant (and perhaps rightly so!). But are you saying that the biggest thing to be gained is that I won't be ignorant (or thought of as ignorant)? That hardly seems worth the price, and honestly that hardly seems like a benefit. That hardly seems helpful.

President Packer's point was simply that when God has made certain facts clear through revealed truth, bringing to light facts that could cast doubt on those truths is simply not helpful. It might not hurt (and indeed, properly understood, it shouldn't hurt) but it's not helpful--except curing ignorance I guess, which neither he nor I see as inherently helpful.

President Packer's point seems all the more clear, at least to me, in the context of a marriage (though he wasn't talking about this). In the course of a marriage, you invariably learn of some of the less desirable characteristics of your spouse [assuming they have any]. Yet when we talk to others about our spouse, we tend not to mention those less desirable points (unless there are SERIOUS things where help is required).

Why is that? My sense from your comment, Dave, is that the position you advocate should lead us to disclose our spouse's problems to others to release others from the shackles of "superficial blissfulness," apparently for some deeper happiness to be found when the rest of us have the chance to know our spouse's weaknesses in context and look past them. If some should choose not to see the full context of our spouse's actions and think poorly of her because of it, their favorable opinion of her was based on ignorance anyway (even though, ironically, their unfavorable opinion now also stems from ignorance).

But we don't do that, and I think it's safe to say neither of us think it'd be right to do that.

Again, Why? It's certainly not because those character flaws might not be true, and it's not even necessarily because, when those unsavory parts of our spouse are understood in context, that others won't still think well of them (after all, we do [or at least we should]). It's not because of our own pride or vain ambition to look good in front of others (or at least it needn't be).

I think it has something to do with an inherent need to look for and accentuate the good in people. I think it also has something to do with love and mercy, and hoping that God will keep His promise to "remember [our] sins no more." (It seems significant to me, tonight, that the Lord didn't say "remember your sins in context").

What I think I can safely say is that mentioning those things one may notice about his/her spouse can't possibly help anything, even if it doesn't ultimately hurt. In fact everyone is better off if I'm the only one who notices them, and if I'm the only one who ever knows about them.

Anyway, thanks Dave. Your comment was quite thought provoking.

Home Again, At Last!

I arrived home yesterday from the Oakland area with little fanfare, at least compared to two weeks ago when I was supposed to be coming home for good. It is nice to be home, and hopefully to be done (for real) this time.

We celebrated my arrival last night with a family party, which for the Clarks simply meant watching Toy Story 2 (Jared calls it the "Red Toy Story" since the DVD cover is Red) with some Finding Nemo Fruit Snacks. Afterward, since Monk was a rerun, we tried suffering through John Stossel's 20/20 investigation on 20 common myths and misconceptions (e.g. Gas isn't really that expensive! Some people are really rude with cell phones!). It didn't take long for us to realize sleep was the better option.

Tonight Jared wanted to play with Legos. I got them out and then asked what he wanted me to build. I was envisioning a grandiose tower using all available Lego pieces. Jared, however, had other ideas. He responded enthusiastically "Monkey!"

So here it is:

I have to say, give my limited artistic background and rudimentary tools, I was more than moderately pleased. In fact, I defy anyone to create a finer monkey with a similar set of Legos.

Jared waited a few moments before destroying. Apparently even he was in awe.

I then asked him what he wanted me to build next. He seemed to be working on a tower, so I thought he might want some help.

"Elephant!" came another enthusiastic response, and I was beside myside.

But something deeper inside me would not be denied.

I was asked once in high school by a sports reporter with an agenda what it was like to be "in the zone." As I stood there, with cameras rolling, I wanted to scratch my head at the question and respond sarcastically (since my shot selection rarely strayed from 6 ft. from the basket)*.

Tonight I might have been able to tell him.

The Legos spoke to me and told me how they should be arranged. I was merely their instrument. Truly the work was greater than the sum of its parts. A few more nights like this and I may be ready to leave the legal profession. A few more assignments like my last one and I surely will.

But, yes, I'm elated to have the company of my wife and son once more.

*According to recent reports, this was apparently one of those rare moments when I kept myself from saying what I really thought.