Pay No Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain

Nope. Still haven’t been on the scale. Don’t feel bad about it, either.

Okay, big bold BRAVE step: I’m posting pictures (no snickering at the quality, please. It’s the best I can do on my own).  

I have two long-sleeved T shirts from the Sanitary Fish Market in Morehead City, NC (No, I don’t eat fish, but I know quality hush puppies and chicken when I find them). For years, they were too tight. I am pleased to be swimming in them today.

I cop to watching Dr. Oz at least 2-3 days per week. If you don’t know this guy, Mehmet Oz is the co-author of the “You: The Owner’s Manual, You: On a Diet, You: Staying Young, Me and You: And A Dog Named Boo” (okay, so that was a radio hit in the 70s, but it’s a fun song). Dr. Oz is a cardiac surgeon.  He, like Dr. Phil and Nate Berkus, is a protégé of Oprah, so his career had a turbo boost. And like Dr. Phil and Nate Berkus, Dr. Oz has a syndicated afternoon talk/information show that is supposed to be about health. Okay.

“The Dr. Oz Show” has been on the air since September 14,2009. According to Wikipedia, as of November 18,2011, he has recorded 400 episodes. (I haven’t done the math on how many since then). I’ve been tuning in since September 2011, usually with a notebook in hand.

Using his training and experience as a cardiac surgeon, Dr. Oz talks about a range of health issues and comes across as quite the authority.

He is Oz, the Great and Powerful.

Yesterday, I watched him, iron fist in velvet glove, beat up on Rosie O’Donnell about her weight. I have liked Rosie since I knew who she was. I loved her Stand-Up Spotlight on VH-1, her afternoon talk show was a lot of fun and she had some great stand-up. I made the mistake of paying to see “Exit to Eden” (and Rosie? I want a damned refund), but she was great in two of my favorites: “Sleepless in Seattle” and “A League of Their Own.” Even after the dust-ups over the Rosie magazine, the end of her show, the nasty comment by Donald Trump (because, apparently, he left his sense of humor in one of his international hotels), I still like Rosie. And she can still kill it with the Betty Rubble laugh.  Rosie has a new show on the OWN network and must have made a deal with the devil to come onto Oz’s show to promote it. I didn’t take notes, but there were leading questions, twisted answers and everything was geared toward making Rosie confess her “sins” of eating and how she’s changed everything due to her new girlfriend (after all the crap she went through to adopt kids and marry her first wife, it was a shame to see that the union didn’t stand).

He did something similar to Paula Deen last week, when she revealed that she has Type 2 diabetes.

A couple of months ago, he was high-fiving and encouraging Jennifer Hudson who has dropped a significant amount of weight and is happy as hell about it. She is the face of Weight Watchers.

Weight Watchers is a “partner” with Dr. Oz. Interesting.

According to the good doctor today, he has done over 400 shows about weight loss. Also interesting. Probably includes his appearances on Oprah’s show.

And today’s magnum opus (“Great Work.” Not what you get when you cross Tom Selleck with a penguin): “Fat-urday: Cheat On Your Diet.”

Okay, I tuned in because I’d heard from him on the Mark & Brian radio program on this topic. The conventional wisdom is that reducing calorie intake causes your body to go into famine mode and slow down the metabolism. A couple of months ago, he’d said that a cheat day every now and then caused the body to get out of survivalist mode and turn the engines back on. Since I hadn’t taken notes while listening to the radio show (mostly because I’m working my day job during Mark & Brian), I figured I’d get some good info to share in this space.

What I got was pissed.

Right off the bat, he walks on stage and says “I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO CHEAT.”

Say what, Turkey?  I am American, 21 and nobody’s property, particularly yours. This is MY body and I don’t need NOBODY’S permission to do what I want with it; including abortions (for now).  

We have crossed the line from informational talk show to propaganda platform. Had he come out and said, “Good news: cheating on your diet can actually be good for you,” that would be a different matter. But nope, HE’S giving PERMISSION.

He had three women that cameras followed on their cheat day and their only guideline was “This day. Eat up and focus on your favorite stuff.” However, as they were indulging in their cheats, there was a calorie counter recording what they ate. This is your basic mixed message: eat what you want, but we’re going to keep track.

Apparently, their cheating wasn’t within the rules because he laid out a whole day’s worth of “appropriate” cheats with turkey bacon and other pale substitutes that only added up to 1400 calories and were consumed in a particular order. Really? On a day where the rules are supposed to be suspended, this seems particularly anal.  If I had been watching on my own TV set, I might have gone Elvis on his smug mug (The King was notorious for shooting TV sets).

Okay, fine, have a cheat day, but be smart about it and don’t binge.  And don’t have more than 1 per week.  There is a way to provide this information without granting permission or approval.

When he’s not talking about how overweight will kill you and therefore, Dr. Oz won’t love you anymore, he’s hawking anti-aging treatments. One of them today was for Argiriline cream as an alternative to Botox. He never mentioned the side effects: it reduces the movement of the muscles in your face and causes sagging. Even a link on his website (a Q & A section with input from other doctors) contradicted his endorsement of the cream.

Dr. Oz is as bad as any women’s magazine at increasing and exploiting female self-loathing for purposes of sales. In his case, Weight Watchers, various exercise gizmos and cosmetic dermatological procedures (not covered by insurance).  To me, this is bolstered that he was taking a “deprivation” approach to dieting. Suffer and sacrifice for the big man’s approval.

You're a mean one, Dr. Oz.

About a month ago, the advertising for a show was “the most under-performed surgical procedure” and “it cures Type II diabetes overnight.” Yes, I tuned in. I was curious. I thought it might be some kind of cutting edge (surgical pun) procedure involving the pancreas. No.

Dr. Mehmet Oz, cardiac surgeon, was pushing gastric bypass surgery. With both hands. Again, nothing about side effects and risks, which you can find pretty easily on the Web. Again, not so much an informational show about health as it is promoting an agenda. Neutrality: he would have presented some of the risks as well.

I suppose it would behoove myself to stop watching the show (and if there’s a particularly good “Law & Order” repeat, I don’t watch him) because it is dawning on me that he’s promoting an agenda, selling books and products and fronting for Weight Watchers. He does provide some useful information: I’ve added some supplements to my diet that I believe have helped me feel better (argenine to promote the body’s production of Human Growth Hormone) and started using a sleep mask at night (So has my friend, Star and she’s told me it has made a great difference for her. We have the same day job, different companies and need good sleep so our brains can function properly).

Okay, so I have gotten SOME good from him, but I’m getting better info from www.nerdfitness.com.

This Oz is actually about as great and powerful as the Wizard turned out to be.

Hang in There, Baby

176.4 lbs. I’m  1.8 lbs. away from being 50 lbs. down. You bet what’s left of my ass I’m happy.

I just signed up for HEALTH INSURANCE again! Frabjous joy (? From “The Jabberwock” by Lewis Carroll) It’s group health so, unfortunately, I didn’t get to test my new BMI vs. the health insurance company algorithms to see who would win, but hey, now I can get my blood chemistry tested without a) having to do it myself because b) I don’t want some dopey doctor just looking at me and prescribing Lipitor. Fuck Big Pharma. And before I start hearing about “well, they do this and they do that” [imagine sound of air horn]: They are in the business of selling pills and will do whatever it takes to make you a customer and a lifelong one at that. You know those ads for a “Drug Free America”? Did you ever notice that they never address prescription drug abuse? Chew on that.

“Bless me, Father for I have sinned.”

“Go talk to Richard Simmons or Oprah or Doctor Oz. Leave me alone.”

“Oh, you’re just crabby because Andre Ethier’s talking about going to the Red Sox.”

“He is?”

“Yes and I would welcome him. JD Drew is just a little too fragile. When he’s good, he’s great, but when he’s not, as thunder follows the lightning, he’s going to be on the DL list.”

“You didn’t come here to talk baseball. Spill it. I have to listen to Mrs. Mulroney every week talk about impure thoughts about Tom Jones. She’s been having those thoughts for 50 years.”

“Hey, he’s still got it, but that’s not why I’m here. I cheated.”

“You’re not married.”

“Not that kind of cheating, Father. I broke my discipline on exercise and eating this week.”

“You know, maybe if you got yourself a boyfriend, you’d leave me out of it.”

“You’re encouraging fornication?”

“I’m encouraging ‘leave me the hell alone-ication.”

“I’ve not maintained my schedule, Father.”

“And why not? Have you been fornicating? That’s lust, one of the Big Seven.”

“No, Father. You know better.”

“Have you been sleeping until noon? That’s sloth, another one of the Big Seven.”
“No, Father. In fact, I’ve been getting up early to work every day.”

“You got a job? That’s good. Earned income is a beautiful thing. So have you been stuffing yourself? That’s gluttony. Big Seven.”

“And my particular favorite for years, but only tonight, Father.”

“Why is this night different from all other nights?”

“Is that a Jewish joke, Father?”

“Huh? Oh, right. Passover questions. Rabbi Greenberg thinks he’s George Carlin. No. Let me rephrase: why did you break your discipline tonight?”

“I was at a gathering with friends to watch the last three Harry Potter movies and I indulged in a bunch of things I’ve been able to resist eating for quite some time.”

“For example?”

“I had two Mimosas and an English muffin with light butter.”

“Well, I don’t think the alcohol will hurt you too much, but we’ll wait and see what the gluten does to you. That’s penance enough. Was that it?”

“No, Father, I had some pizza, too.”

“Oh, great, more gluten And sodium and saturated fat and all that stuff that puts you in a panic when My Net Diary gives you the thumbs down on intake.”

“See, I cheated there, too, Father. I didn’t input all that stuff.”

“Well, you’re going to feel like crap. What did you weigh this morning?”

“176.4.”

“So you won’t be shocked at a spike, right?”

“No, Father and I figure the gluten intake should do it.”

“This close to 50 and you had a field day. Sabotage?”

“I don’t think so. There was fresh melon there and I stuck mostly to that.”

“Well, that’s not a big deal. But the pizza…and you said you’d been breaking your gym schedule. Hmm. Okay, this is not good. Tell me, are you keeping up with your brain chemistry supplements.”

“Yes and no. I just ran out of a bunch of them.”

“For how long?”

“A few days.”

“You know you’re crediting that stuff with controlling your eating habits and helping you stick to the exercise routine.”

“Yes, Father, but money has been tight lately. That’s $210 for a three month supply right there.”

“Right, but you’re working again and you’ll buy things as you need them and rebuild. Get the N aceytil cysteine, alpha lipoic acid and L tyrosine first. Keep your dopamine and serotonin levels up or get them back up.”

“What did you do, rifle my purse?”

“That thing? Honestly, I don’t know why you feel you need to lift weights with that thing. What do you have in there, bricks? The thing’s a lethal weapon!”

“Back on track, Father.”

“Okay, here’s the deal: you slipped. And yes, I know about the flourless chocolate cake. And before you jump on that. I know because I was in Whole Foods when you bought it. The only time I’ve seen anyone with a more crazed look in her eyes was Mrs. Mulroney at bingo when the prize was an all expenses paid weekend in Vegas with a Tom Jones show thrown in. I thought she was going to strangle Mrs. Whitehead when she won it.”

“Your point?”

“And yes, I have one: You’re back on duty as of right now. Re-establish your focus, get your eyes back on the prize. Speaking of which, what is the prize?”

“Feeling better?”

“You don’t have a more material reward in mind?”

“Depends. Do you have George Clooney’s phone number?”

“No and I’m not about to go get it for you, either. Why don’t you come up with a non-food reward for your next milestone. That’s the 50, right?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Something moderate, like going to get your nails done. I know you have that salon you like. And figure out something for hitting the big jackpot. I want you to come up with rewards that you can picture. In fact, cut pictures out of magazines and make a vision board, you know? For each reward, write the weight on the picture that’s the point where you’ll reward yourself. And start putting away money for it. We live in a day and age where every kid gets a trophy just for showing up. Well this is more than just showing up and you are earning the recognition. If an annual sales trip to Hawaii makes people sell cars or insurance, then why can’t you have mark your milestones?”

“When I hit the 125, I could go to Vegas.”

“Only if you take Mrs. Mulroney with you.”

Once More Unto the Priest

179.8 lbs. GAH!!!!!

Dear Axe Body Spray: I think it is shameful how you lie to young, desperate, zitty men about your product, particularly since your product causes my nostrils to sting and eyes to water worse than Ron Burgundy’s “Sex Panther” cologne* (*Yes, I know it was really Paul Rudd’s character. Spare me the correction emails). Angels do not fall from the sky, young women do not pull off their bikini tops for horny nerds unless considerable amounts of Red Bull and vodka are involved. I should report your ass to the FTC for false advertising.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“Oh, for the love of God: don’t you understand what a RESTRAINING ORDER means?”

“Since this is supposed to be anonymous, how can you possibly prove I am that person for whom you got a restraining order. You’re not even supposed to know my name. What are you, a Peeker Cheater?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t bring your boss into this.”

“So your Red Sox lost to the PIRATES??? HA!”

“And the soon-to-be former owner bent your Dodgers over a chair like the Monsignor and…”

“HEY! Don’t go there!”

“You started it.”

“So, what’s the big sin today? Evil thoughts about people who stick gum on the elliptical? Pride over your accomplishment? By the way, I notice your progress.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be able to see me through the screen.”

“You didn’t sa “OOF!” as you got into the confessional. I figured it wasn’t such a tight squeeze anymore.”

“It’s not, Father, and thank you. But I am angry.”

“What, another plateau?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I read your blog. And yes, I click on the ads, hoping the income will make you go away. And yet, here you are. AH CHOOO!”

“ Bless you, Father.”

“That’s my line. So tell me about the anger.”

“So, I’ve been VERY careful about what I put in my mouth, I have done at least one Monster Burn this week and I’ve been stuck at the same god damned…”

“HEY!”

“Sorry, Father. The same LOUSY weight for days. You know, I’ve got that My Net Diary and it ASSURES me that between what’s gone in the mouth and what’s been sweated off the butt should result in a loss of x number of ounces per day. However, the numbers don’t change.”

“Are you cheating?”

“On whom? I’m single.”

“(Annoyed sigh). You know what I mean.”

“Well, I am today, Father.”

“Oooh, let me guess, you did less than 5 hours at the gym and ate 3 bean sprouts instead of 2. You naughty girl. There’s a special place in hell for you.”

“Hey, leave the sarcasm to the professionals, Father.”

“You know there are people who are 1) actually Catholic, 2) truly wish to unburden their souls and 3) actually want absolution and will do penance. You are preventing me from ministering to my flock.”

“Your flock is at the beach. It’s just you and me. So about the cheating…”

“Go ahead, but be advised, I’m gonna lay such a penance on you…”

“Whatever. I started a new job this week and that makes it necessary to shuffle my schedule, not to mention there’s a huge amount of stress because I want to do this RIGHT. Employment is good. Unemployment, not so much, especially when the benefits run out. I was doubly anxious because I was frustrated with myself for not being better at the job and because I wasn’t on my usual gym schedule. I just hit the emotional wall yesterday and…”

“Let me guess, TWO chocolate almond horns?”

“You got it.”

“I can understand that. Those things are really, really, really good. What else?”

“Wine, Father.”

“Oh, please.”

“No, Torquemada said ‘Once a month’ and I had a glass on my birthday. She said it slows down the metabolism and since I’m working towards a goal, yada yada yada, eyes on the prize…”

“How much?”

“One coffee mug. I don’t have wine glasses.”

“Anything good?”

“Mosby Vinyards Sangiovese.”

“Ah,that’s good stuff. Did you at least have it with a filet mignon?”

“No, Father, veggie burgers. And they SUCK.”

“You’re killing me. That’s a crime against humanity.”

“You’re telling me.”

“So, for the first time since you started this odyssey, you indulged in a little rebellion. Big friggin’ whoop. Come back when you’ve committed something interesting, like lust.”

“I lust in my heart.”

“Unless you’re Jimmy Carter, it doesn’t count. And frankly, if you got laid once a while…”

“Father!”

“You wouldn’t bother me so much. What else?”

“The cheating continued in to today. I had more wine.”

“Did you record it?”

“Well, if your weight goes up tomorrow, it’s your own damn fault.”

“It would be something different on the scale.”

“Yeah, but as bad as you are on a plateau, I don’t want to be within 10 miles of you when you spike. Are you sure you’re not on the rag?”

“NO!”

“Jeez! Relax, Francis! Just asking.”

“’Relax, Francis?’ Have you been watching ‘Stripes’ on your IPod?”

“Yeah. Love that movie.”

“So, what’s my penance?”

“If I let the punishment fit the crime, I’d be busting into your sanctum sanctorum on a regular basis and driving you nuts. And you know, since you’re not actually Catholic, I could probably step outside the 10 Hail Marys and Stations of the Cross boundaries and give you something really creative, like a 20 mile hike. HOWEVER, you and I both know that there is a Bible passage to address your plateau concerns.”

“Which one?”

“This, too, shall pass. Just chill, keep on keeping on and tell me a six letter synonym for ‘hemorrhoid’.”

“P-R-I-E-S-T.”