How Did I Get Here?: Part 1

I have been thinking as of late on how I got to this point in my life where I am on a quest to lose another 168 pounds, why I’m reaching out to all those I know and don’t know by writing this blog and forcing myself to take a hard look at my choices over the years in order to change my life.  Is it my midlife crisis?  I don’t know.  Perhaps, a rebirth instead.  Approaching fifty with one parent already gone does tend to make you introspective, especially when the prospect of putting in another 25 years is a dim one for a man of over 350 pounds.  So I will try to answer through a series of blogs the question, just how did I get here.  What we ate, what things stuck in my head over the years about being obese and what my mindset has been at various points in my life.

My story?  Okay.  It was never easy for me.  I was born a poor black child.  I remember the days, sittin' on the porch with my family, singin' and dancin' down in Mississippi.  Wait.  That wasn’t me.  That was Navin R. Johnson in "The Jerk."  I was raised in a lower middle-class family in a stereotypical hometown U.S.A. kinda place.  My father was very hard working and Mom was the stay-at-home domestic goddess that was the standard for the '60s and '70s.  Being Italian, or at least half (Dad always said it was the half that counted. In a humorous way, though), much of our interaction was surrounding food.   We almost always ate dinner together and our meals consisted of meatloaves, tuna casseroles, steaks,  breaded pork chops, pasta, etc.  When Mom and Dad went out to dinner dances on Saturdays we would get frozen pot pies, Swanson frozen dinners or, our favorite, Banquet fried chicken and Morton(?) frozen macaroni and cheese.  Our side dishes for family meals were usually some kind of boxed rice dish or potatoes and something that resembled vegetables.

Back in the '60s and '70s, fresh vegetables were not the norm and I guess an expensive proposition when cooking for a family of five.  Mom shopped once a week and it was more prudent to buy these frozen bricks of vegetables, which kept better, than the limited variety of produce available.  These bricks were boiled until they were gray.  String beans or broccoli’s color more resembled an army tank than a summer lawn.  The picture above , although very over-cooked has considerably more chlorophyll that what we ate.  I'm talking GRAY.  Lima beans were always something we fought over.  Not over who got to eat them, but over why we wouldn’t.  Well, Mom...because they sucked!  Mom did the best she knew how and I love her for it, but it was years before I would learn to like vegetables.  I absolutely love them now, but it was hard getting here.  So when I hear adults say they don’t like vegetables, I look back on the weapons of mass indigestion that were in our freezer and I sort of understand. 

Breakfast during the week was some sugary cereal like Cap’n Crunch, Apple Jacks, Sugar Frosted Flakes or Sugar Pops.  Just try to find a cereal with 'sugar' proudly displayed on its front panel these days.  Basically we were getting candy for breakfast except on weekends when Dad would make bacon and eggs or pancakes.  My Dad loved to cook breakfast.  I have fond memories of him standing over an electric fry pan and whipping out those delectable Bisquick flapjacks, which we promptly smothered with butter and Log Cabin ‘maple’ syrup.

Lunch was usually some sort of processed meat like bologna with Velveeta, perhaps, a PBJ or tuna salad laden with mayo, all nestled between two pieces of that nutritious Wonder Bread.  It was nutritious, right?  The commercials told us it was.  Bleached flour processed into an airy cloud that, when smooshed, turned into a gloriously doughy vehicle for whatever salt- and/or preservative-packed protein was being delivered.

While we seldom had soda in the house, there was always something in the cookie jar.  Grandma would stop by the Burry Biscuit factory store about once a month and we’d get garbage bags full of Fudgetowns and Scooter Pies.  Alas, the Burry plant burned to the ground on December 22, 2011.  R.I.P. kid crack factory.

Long story short (I know; too late, you say), we were fed crap growing up.  It was packaged as the wholesome American diet, but it was, indeed, crap.  I don’t blame Cathie and Sal.  They were amazing parents, just trying to get by.  They raised three great kids in so many respects.  It is no wonder, however, that I learned to like, no, obsess over, the wrong foods.

Cya tomorrow for more on how I got here.

M

What I ate today:

Breakfast ~ An Amy’s burrito, with 1 TB fat-free Greek yogurt and salsa on top.

Mid-morning snack ~ Half of a banana the wife threw my way.

Lunch ~ Un-Turkey pita sandwich and a HUGE salad of bitter greens, cukes, toasted almonds, craisins and more with a homemade lime and fresh mint dressing.

Mid-afternoon snack ~ ½ cup leftover mixed rice blend with some salsa

Dinner ~ Whole wheat pasta with artichokes, mushrooms, carrots and peas in a homemade fennel stock and a tad of grated cheese.