Putting it in Perspective: A Conversation with Dolly-girl D'Mestiere

"Saints alike, Jack, I plugged your numbers into an app on my new iPhone (® along with the rest of the currently known universe, and points beyond, by Steve Jobs) and I see you've walked from here to Rugby, North Dakota, the geographic center of North America!"








"Right, Dolly-girl. As Roberto says, the good thing about being in Rugby is that what ever way you go, you're headed to the beach. But, I think I've only walked to Shelby, Montana."

"Why's that, Jack?"

"'Cause I'm coming home to you, Fiora..."

Update from Stumptown: Waddling Through July

The results are in. Thirty-one days of waddling yielded 237.04 miles, a worn out pair of shoes (after over 670 miles), and an additional 4 pounds of LARD! left on the streets of Stumptown!





I continue to collect data as I know Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD is all about data and she will give me a knowing and approving smile and nod the next time I see her. And, Professor Javier Boleyn just has to be proud!


You may recall that this all started one year ago with this post:

http://waddlingtowardsfitness.blogspot.com/2010/08/waddling-towards-europe-new-bill.html

You may also recall that it was inspired by the very trim President Bill Clinton who has been whispering in my ear for the last year. Inspiration, I like, but do I have to hear "Chels, when are you gonna have a baby?

Waddling Through June: 204.02 Miles on the Streets of Stumptown, Boise, and Juneau

June 30, the results are in. June is my waddlingest month so far. Professor Javier Boleyn will no doubt have a comment before long...

Waddling Through May: 201.96 Miles of Stumptown Concrete

Well, not quite. I logged about 4 miles in Wenatchee, Washington, 15 in Reno, Nevada, and 8 on Sauvie Island. Still, lots of red paths around town...

Dispatch from the War on LARD!: 2 Pails Left Behind

© Armour Star, no doubt
I strolled into Radio Room after a 12 mile urban waddle and settled into my usual stool. "Howzit, Jack?" "Good, Bar-Am, but I could use a little alone time, if you get my drift..." I couldn't miss the semi-hurt look on her kisser as she hopped down the bar with a pint of the good stuff. "Well, OK, I know where I'm..." I gave s shrug towards the good Professor's tap-cam. She gave me a wink and said, "You know, Agnes left one of her caps here and I need to hang it up where she can see it." Agnes is Aniela D'Ignacio--that's Angel of Fire in eye-talian, or eh-talian, as Dolly-girl would say--and she's one of the listen-to-what-she-says people around Radio Room. She's always got a nickel's worth of free advice (© Principal Strickland, Back to the Future, 1985) and it's good to listen to her. She's got her index digit on the pulse of Portlandia (© Raymond Kaskey, artist of the second-largest copper repoussé statue in the United States.) Bar-Am flipped the cap over a handle that was never pulled and gave me a nod. So that's where that cam is. "You know, Bar-Am..." She gave me the high sign so I shut my trap. She reached behind the bottle of Bulleit Bourbon Frontier Whiskey (©2009 Bulleit Distilling Company, Lawrenceburg, KY) and unplugged a hidden microphone. "OK, Jack. Good to go." "Roger, Bar-Am."


© Someone else as I copied it off Wikipedia
"I don't really need alone time, I just don't want to be talking to Professor Javier Boleyn today, of all days." "That 'cause of The Rapture, Jack 'cause I don't think it's gonna happen." "Naw, it's because today, after 293 days of the 2-Step Duh! Diet (© Boleyn Enterprises), I jumped on the scale and saw that I have lost 2 entire pails of LARD! Yep, 50 pounds of the stuff. Two-point-seven-three ounces per day for 293 days. I just want a day to not make a big deal of it and to not have him telling me 'It's not over Jackie-boy. You are still classified as 'overweight, just 0.6 BMI below OBESE'. You need to keep at it, Jackie-boy...' I just don't need that today. I don't need to be reminded that I still am a Sus scrofa domesticus over stocked with sub-cutaneous fat." "Jack, you got such a way with words. You mean you're still a fat hog!" I gave her a scowl. "More like 'still a LARD!-ass', Bar-Am."


© Someone else as I copied it off Wikipedia
"On it, Jack. You won't get it from me. Even though I am in league with Professor Boleyn, and of course, I have never had a weight problem myself as I most closely resemble a soda straw--a flex-straw, at that--I can appreciate that you just might want to sit here and have a beer..." "Or two..." "Or two--I could do that--and take a little pride in winning the War on LARD!




© Armour Star, no doubt
"Bar-Am, if it were only that easy. I've been fighting this battle for 45 years. The Battle of '67, the Skirmish of '79, the Conflict of '00, and now the War on LARD!--the mother of all Wars on LARD!" "What happened between '79 and '01 there Jack? Seems you skipped a beat." "Ah yes. You know, the usual, kids, tenure, divorce, hot, young girl friends. It all kept me fit. But, after I fell head-over-tea-cups for Fiora and accepted that she cottoned to me too, then it was down that slippery slope that is coated with the stuff--a different sorta Armour-all. Two-point-seven-three ounces per day goes on a lot easier and more pleasurably than it comes off." "I can imagine..." I knew she couldn't.




I hoisted the second beer just about the time my blower sparked. "That will be the Professor. Yallow. D'Mestiere Investigations." "Jackie-boy, is that you? The satellite cluster seems to be malfunctioning. Where are you?" "Radio Room, Professor. Having a second beer." "Is Bar-Am there?" "She gave her head a shake and I covered. "Nope. Substitute. She took the day off in case The Rapture was real." "Jack." His voice went to that deep place. "Jack, I've been trying to contact you all day to extend my congratulations. I was with another client this morning, but I reviewed the ScalE-mail (© Boleyn Enterprises) and see that you have reached a milestone. I offer my hearty, 'Well-done', but..." "Scratch, scritch...I think I'm losing you there, Professor.." "remember..." "...can't hear you...click. Lost him I guess. Damn Verizon." I flicked the blower to off. Bar-Am smiled and said, "This one's for you, Jack!"


Seriously, I do thank my talismans, Bill Clinton and Bill Nighy, my personal trainer, James Wimbish of Bo Weivel Lawn Maintenance, Bar-Am, Aniela D'Ignacio, and all the fun people at Radio Room who give me a place to walk to, Professor Javier Boleyn who, in real life, told me to eat less and move more, and Fiora D'Mestiere, the girl of my dreams.

4 Pounds from 2 Pails: A Stern Conversation with Professor Javier Boleyn

"How do you do, Bar-Am?" "Howzitz, Jack?" "Well, if Itz is my feet..." "Are my feet. No excuse for bad grammar, Jack." "...Are my feet, they are barking dogs. Fill 'er up and hop a cold one down the bar there, will you pal-o-mine?" "On it."

I gladly took the cold one Bar-Am set in front of me, took a sip, and reflected on the day. It didn't start well.





It was 8 bells on the morning watch when the blower sparked. I was in the shower when Fiora yelled in the door, "Jack, it's Professor Javier Boleyn on the blower. Get on out here 'cause I have to head on out to that writers' thing I have to be at today." She put the blower down on the sink and I dripped on over to it. I didn't even get a chance to speak before..."Jack. Jackie-boy. What, oh what, is going on?" I played dumb. "And don't play dumb with me. You know what I mean--the ScalE-mail (® Boleyn Enterprises) tells no lies. You are still 4 pounds short of the goal you set months ago. This is getting ridiculous and I want it over soon--I'll give you 2 weeks." "But Professor, it's, it's..." His voice softened. "I know, Jackie-boy, You're moving a lot more than you used to." Then back to stern. "But, you've morphed my patented 2-Step DUH! Diet into Move More, Eat More! Now get your LARD-ass out there and do some walking." "Wail! I know I've been eating too much, but when I walk so much, I get hungry." "And thirsty, by all accounts..."


I headed out. It doesn't help that when I'm out waddling I have to waddle by a bunch of great feedbags which just makes me hungrier. Take this one, for instance. Cocotte, a great little bistro like the ones me and Dolly-girl ran into over there in France back when I was carrying a pail more than I'm carrying now. So I waddle by, but stop to read the whaddayawant and I'm pretty sure I absorb LARD! just by doing that.


So, I scoped out a route that would take me by as few places to eat as possible. It was a nice day for riding shank's mare, and before long, I was watching the Alara K get filled to the brim with wheat. Probably to turn into buns for thick, juicy cheeseburgers someplace...




I waddled on over to Union Station and took a stroll through the National Train Day events, including the annual exhibition of the Daylight 4449. Couldn't absorb any LARD! there, could I?

I looked around because I knew that the Boleyn's-Eye-View (® Boleyn Enterprises) satellite surveillance system would have me center-frame. I didn't see any signs, but gave the burger stand a wide berth anyway.



I turned and headed back over the river to the part of town where me and Dolly-girl set our brake when I happened to remember that it was Derby Day. Hmmm, where in the world might be a place to sit down and watch some nags run on a Hi-Def TV? Where might I be warmed and dried by a fake birch log fire? After some thought, say about the time it takes an axon to fire, it came to me. Radio Room.



The pictures below were taken of the TV. I suspect there is some sort of law against doing that so I will duly note that I was watching NBC at the time.

The sound of the TV and of Bar-Am asking which silks were carrying my purse snapped me back to reality like Sister Mary Kathryn's ruler on my knuckles. "Jack, where were you? Off in the ozone?" "Oh, I was miles away Bar-Am--maybe 5 miles away at one point." I did notice that while I might have been gone figuratively, I must have been there literally because the pint Bar-Am had delivered at the beginning of the reflection as pretty much gone. Meanwhile, the pomp of the circumstance was starting.


Yep, they were out of the gate with my favorite, and a favorite of a lot of others, Dialed In in the 8th position. Last I saw of him. Finished his number and changed his name to Dialed Back.




Animal Kingdom came on at the end and Ran for the Roses. "Well, Bar-Am, I guess I'll have another one of those tall cold ones to wash down the sting of defeat." "Jackie-boy..." That was a tip-off. "...we got a cable from COMBEPAC this morning..." "COMBEPAC?" "...that's COMmander, Boleyn Enterprises, PACific. Word's being spread that you might try to go beyond the beer you've earned. Some sort of push on, it said. Something about only 4 to go so get tough and stay tough. I guess that cable was on the money, even though Dialed In wasn't..." "Wail!"



"The wire had instructions for us, Jack. Do the loop again, and then come back for another. Sorry."

"I know, Bar-Am. You're just the messenger. C'mon dogs, saddle up. We got concrete to pound..."

Waddling Through March: The Results Are IN!

158.3 miles on 26 walks--26 days out of 31. Take that, Professor Javier Boleyn!

Beaumont-Wilshire: Where the Kids on Alberta Think We Live

As you may know, me and Dolly-girl set our brake in the part of town that is just about smack-dab on the convergence of Woodlawn, Vernon, and Concordia--let's call in Woodnoncordia. Actually, I can call it anything I want since you don't care and are just wondering where I'm going with this anyway. Well, here's were I'm going. Beaumont-Wilshire. "Hey, Dolly-girl, I'm off on my waddle. See you in a couple hours." "Give my regards to Radio Room, Jack." I headed out the door, turned right, then left then right then left, and before you know it, I'd passed the Alberta Arts district, which is a young hipsters' hang-out and was in Beaumont-Wilshire, which is not, as evidenced by the sign to the left. This is where the young hipsters who hang out in the Alberta Arts district think me and Dolly-girl live.




Woodnoncordia is close to the Alberta Arts district. That's where you see things like in the Kodaks to the left. Not things like "The Arrangement."






Beaumont-Wilshire's got themselves one of those Starbucks places that you definitely do not, and I mean DO NOT see in the Alberta Arts district, thank the Lord. I did notice that they had a couple joints like what you might of seen where Dolly-girl set the brake on her pram. And I noticed that they have a joint that is making beer and selling it too.










I turned left and waddled south from Beaumont-Wilshire past rows of neat houses with Subarus and Hondas, you know, the sort of houses and cars that the young hipsters in the Alberta Arts district think me and Dolly-girl live in and drive but which we don't. Before long, I was down the ridge and into what people in Portland call the Hollywood District, I think because there is a giant movie marquee that says "Hollywood" rather than because they make movies and have a lot of stars hanging around. Anyhoo, Hollywood is where you go if you want to find someone who knows how to plant you the old fashioned way--The Ross Hollywood Chapel, which is just another way to say Funerals and Cremations, which it says in the small print on their sign. I never realized that the two were, what would Dolly-girl call it, umm, mutually exclusive. Yes, that's what she would say.



I waddled on down Sandy Boulevard, noticing the extent of what I call "urban fragmentation" but I'm pretty sure people who study "urban fragmentation" don't. By "urban fragmentation" I mean how you can end up with a bunch of short blocks and wide streets and crossing lights that really slow a waddler down when a guy is trying to maintain a 4 mile-per-hour pace. I'm not sure what all those scholarly papers on "urban fragmentation" are about...





I saw a few more interesting things, like this guy whose job it is to dress up like the Statue of Liberty and wave a sign at people to try and get them to just stop in to have their taxes done on a whim I guess. I didn't stop. Didn't look like anyone else was either. Not a heck of a lot of resemblance between the tax-service guy and La Liberté éclairant le monde, but it made me really glad that I didn't have his job. Might have been a her, but I think it was a guy based on the fact that he put the "OPEN EARLY" sign down upside down while adjusting his rays and I think a girl would have put it down right-side-up. Just a gut feeling. Statue of Liberty photo © somebody else on Wikipedia




I waddled past Tony Starlight's, subject of a previous writing of mine, and the place where me and Dolly-girl and some others are headed on St. Paddy's Day.








Finally, I'd waddled full circle and was right back to the Alberta Arts district where the young hipsters don't think we live near to but we do. I was cruising along, headed for that pot-o-gold known as India Pale Ale at the end of the Radio Room Rainbow when my eyes spied something and my head jerked around like I'd been hit with a left hook. I knew Dolly-girl took that Banksy movie to seriously...

Dispatch from the Beluga Slim Fitness Center: Waddling Through February

The blower sparked. Dolly-girl was right on it seeing as how she'd been talking Long Distance to Inebriata Beech about this and that. "Yallow. Yep. Yep. And a howdy-do right back at you. Hold the line. I'll get him. JACK, it's Professor Javier Boleyn--he wants to talk to you." Jeesh, this could only be bad news for me.

"I'm with you, Professor, Jack D'Mestiere here. In the flesh..." I knew I shouldn't have said it as soon as I heard me say it. Talk about stepping into it.

"Yes, and still too much flesh, Jackie-boy. But we'll get to that shortly."



"Are you near a computer, LARD!-butt--I mean Jackie-boy?" "I am, Professor." "Good, log in to your personal page at http://2stepduhdiet.com." "I have a personal page?" "Of course, Jackie-boy. I provide all the latest expected services, even though people don't need them, nor do they use them once they have them. Are you there?" "It's asking me for a UserID and password." "Jackieboy, no hyphen, and LARDbGONE, all caps except the b." "OK, I'm there. Wow, what's that map?" "That, Jackie-boy, is a plot of all the walking you did in February--well, it doesn't show two walks while you were on travel, but they were insubstantial. I must say, Jackie-boy, you walked a lot this month. 98.02 miles, to be exact! Congratulations, you really did 'Move More', one of the two critical steps."



"Wow, Professor, how do you do this?" "Space age technology, my child. I know your every movement thanks to the Transpond-r-Nuts (® Boleyn Enterprises) that I have Fiora slip into the bag of tamari almonds you keep at hand. Thankfully, you generally gobble them down so quickly you don't bother to chew--molars can be harsh on the little gadgets. Yes, Jackie-boy, the Boleyn's-Eye-View (® Boleyn Enterprises) satellite cluster records your location, pin-pointed by GPS and maps it using a patented Google Earth (® Google, Inc.) based application, Where's My LARD! (® Boleyn Enterprises). I see you waddled by a freezing fountain at NW 10th and Everett--isn't that the Lawrence Gallery (© Lawrence Gallery)? That's a coincidence..."



He continued, "Now, speaking of LARD!, how goes it? You're still looking a bit like a fluffed up gull on a cold day." "Well, I, er, I, um, er, I lost about 5 pounds of LARD! in February." I waited for the inevitable... "Well, I echo the words of Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD, Jackie-boy. Good Start. Keep it up. You'll get there. And, by the way, now's a good time to pay your monthly membership fee. I accept PayPal (Copyright © 1999-2011 PayPal. All rights reserved.) at http://2stepduhdiet.com



"Oh, by the way, your Cap-Corder (® Boleyn Enterprises) recorded this little number while documenting a distinct increase in the pace of your waddle. Care to enlighten me?" "First glimpse of Radio Room (®©™ Radio Room), of course." "Groan. Keep it up LARD!-ass. I'll be calling again soon."

Dispatch from the Beluga Slim Fitness Center: Going & 11th Could be a Geaux for the Devereaux

Ever since I decided to join the Beluga Slim Fitness Center ©2011 D'Mestiere Investigations, daily exercise has become inviolate. Believe it or not, my motivation is even enhanced since I invented Shanks Mare Realty ©2011 D'Mestiere Investigations. Today was no exception. Dolly-girl handed me an order to fill at the grocers and I was off.






While waddling along, I spied this at the corner of Going and NE 11th. It has a great AASDF--Alberta Arts Striking Distance Factor ©2011 Shanks Mare Realty and D'Mestiere Investigations--of 8.76 (where 1 is far away or within the nuisance factor) and 10 is 6 blocks away, meaning that you get some exercise going there. It's Radio Room Quotient ©2011 Shanks Mare Realty and D'Mestiere Investigations --Time in minutes it takes to walk to Radio Room/Time in minutes it takes to consume a beer--is 0.25 which is outstanding. Now, I don't know the details other than someone is trying to sell it and there's an open house tomorrow, but it's a place I could see Claudette and Delancy setting their brake.



Anyway, today I was good. I waddled 4.1 miles. Unfortunately, I forgot my water bottle ;) so I had to stop along the way. I sidled up to the bar in a joint--an unfamiliar movement for me. "Could I just get a glass of water?" "Sorry, we're out." "Club soda?" "Don't carry it." "Tonic?" Do I look British?" "Wail, I'm sooo thirsty." "Well, in front of you stands a DTM." "DTM?" "Doctor of Thirst Mitigation. May I be of service?" "Well, Doc, I know you aren't Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD, but what's your prescription?"

He looked me up and down, headed to his work area, and was back in a flash. "Rx: IPA x H2O" "Whatha?" "An innovative and pleasant alternative to water. Thanks for having your prescription filled at Radio Room!"

Waddling Towards Fitness: Relax=Relapse...

[singsong] Do-do-do-do-do; do-do-do-do-do-do. "What tha? It says Professor Javier Boleyn wants to have a video chat?"

"Professor?" "Jackie-boy, glad I caught you in." "Professor, I never expected..." "Never expect anything from me, Jack. However, I sense my reputation is at stake and I must intervene." "How so, Professor? Didn't you see the wonderful results of my visit to Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD?" Indeed, I did, Jackie-boy. That's why I'm calling. I can assure you that whatever mild encouragement the good doctor offered, you have exceeded its intention."




"Well, wait just a goll-durned minute here, Professor..." "No, you wait, Jackie-boy. What did you have for dinner on Friday after your visit to the good doctor?" "Pasta." "And?" "And nothing. Pasta. Not much of it and one serving." "And...a mote of bread, Jack. The dining room cam recorded it." "Dining room cam?" "Seems that you had a Coffee Crisp as well." "It is the world's best candy bar...light and crispy, coffee and chocolate..." The professor's stern look was not lost in the video chat box.





"And, after grocery shopping at New Seasons on Saturday--by the way, your choices were healthy, although I question the case of wine--the Traffic Cam on Alberta and 27th detected you walking west on Alberta. Did you go to the Radio Room?" "I certainly did not..." "No, that's correct. You went to Mash Tun instead." "OK, so I stopped for a pint." "And?" "And nothing." "If you call nothing, a pint of Total Domination, a taster of FaLaLa, and a glass of the same." "Wha?..." "Tap Cam, Jackie-boy, the Tap Cam recorded it all."







He continued. "The Kitchen Cam recorded the following two scenes later yesterday afternoon. I believe that is your hand holding an olive corn chip..." "I had one...er, two. They're good. Wail!" "And that is clearly your ring finger wrapped around a bottle of Celebration." "Wail! Is there no escaping you?"






"Jackie-boy, Professor Javier Boleyn did not attain his stature by running a lax organization. My reputation is at stake at every turn. It is incumbent upon me to monitor those who accept the 2-Step DUH! Diet as their life style. It's far too easy for some slacker to start claiming that my method doesn't work, so I have an individualized monitoring program for each and every 2-Stepper. For instance, the Boleyn's-Eye-View Cam--that's what I call my patented satellite surveillance system--caught you at 16th and Klickitat on your waddle. Good pace, by the way, you worked up quite a sweat." "And how do you know that?" "The perspiration detection nanofibers in your Kielbasa Festival T-Shirt uploaded to the Boleyn Star Cluster--those are my satellites." "Wail!"



"So let's get back to the matter at hand, Jackie-boy. Last evening, the D'Mestiere Tracking Module recorded you entering and leaving the Portland City Grill..." "Dolly-girl and I went for a drink..." "Yes, you had a martini with, I believe, 4 olives, although it's not clear from the bar cam. Fiora had white wine." "Well, there's a tough guess." "Don't get snippy, Jack. It was a sauvignon blanc, New Zealand, if the system is working..."





"You were next spotted waddling into Little Bird, a hip new bistro on 6th. Really, Jackie-boy, walking right in front of the TriMet bus stop cam? You make my job so easy...I continue. The salt-shaker-cam recorded a pork chop with cabbage galette, and a bacon apple relish." "It was delicious." "So I hear. And, white beans and parslied ham salad." "Wait, I split whose with Dolly-girl!" "Yes, I'll give you that." "How do you know?" "After-action report filed by the waitress. Did you really have to pick up the chop bone and gnaw on it, Jackie-boy?" "It was good. I didn't have dessert, though." "Define dessert, Jack. In the 2-Step DUH! Diet, cognac clearly falls in the dessert column." "Wail!"


"Continuing along, as I must do, in spite of your mournful wailing, the Cup & Saucer Cam reported that you and Fiora, possibly accompanied by the Kavanaghs--they are a marvelously trim couple, Jack; I'm glad to see you in their company as perhaps their habits will rub off; I understand they are joining a gym--entered the fabled breakfast, how do you call it?--Joint--and left about 90 minutes later. That's 90 minutes of trouble for you, Jackie-boy." "Wail!"



"I will spare no effort to assure that you do not spoil my reputation with what can only be described as a 'Relax=Relapse Moment', Jackie-boy. That's why I am sending you, at no additional charge, a copy of my latest book: Trundle On: Tales of 2-Step Dieters, personally autographed by my assistant, but with my name."

With that, Professor Javier Boleyn ended the chat and left me to my own wailing. What could I do but head out, waddling towards who knows what. Back to the front in the War on LARD!, but now knowing that my every move is watched and recorded. I'm sure the Radio Room fire pit cam caught me looking longingly as I walked by, but I walked by, determined to soldier on. Wail!