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!

Disbelief on NE 20th Ave: A Visit to the Chief Medical Officer

"Mumph. What tha? What's up, Jack? How come you're getting out of bed so early? You don't have to be at Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD's office until 9." "I'm walking there--gotta get my carcass moving. I might lose another ounce on the way..."

I headed out. The day was fine, the sidewalk rose to meet my feet, I waddled south at a good clip, and before long, I was outside Sunshine Dairy. Sunshine Dairy has a rotating sign that I like quite a lot. I took a movie of it, but I forgot that I don't know how to rotate Quicktime movies so if you want to watch, you will have to turn your monitor 90 degrees, clockwise. Wait, I heard something was invented...it's called, Technology!

I watched the sign for awhile while I steeled myself to enter the office of D'Mestiere Investigations' Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD. It's in the one of the Jantzen Buildings where swimwear used to be designed and constructed. They aren't there any more though. Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD is.








I entered. After some checking of information, some paying of co-pays, and some sitting and waiting, but not very much of that, I was called. First stop, scale. "Let's have you take off your shoes." 'Yes!," I muttered to myself. I had already transferred the contents of all pockets to my jacket. Looking skyward with a tacit thanks to the Two Bills, and of course, to Professor Javier Boleyn, I stepped on the scale. It beeped, the nurse wrote down a number and showed me to the exam room. Blood pressure--in good shape, as well it should be since I consume 3 different chemicals daily to keep it such. Nurse leaves room. A minute later, nurse comes back. "Is this what the scale read?" "It is." "You've lost weight--over 35 pounds, did you know that?" "Yes, I know," I said smilingly. "Were you trying?" "Yes." "Great!"



Well, keeping a long examination short, and being rather amazed that before the day was out, my test results were in (there's that technology thing again), I can report that Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD was quite pleased with the results of the War on LARD! and especially with my commitment to continue the battle. She had nothing but praise for the genius of Professor Javier Boleyn, and for my execution of the 2-Step DUH! Diet. Well, she did mention that I am an American and not a Frenchman, and therefore, not entitled to guilt-free consumption of large quantities of wine. "That's OK," I told her, "I can handle guilt..."



Now then, I was feeling so righteous that I decided to waddle the rest of the way to work. I did so and took time to look at some sights, now that I had a certain lilt to my gait, a gift from the flying colors I earned there in the office of Dr. Rachel S. Graves, MD.






I noticed two of many signs advertising the Portland Timbers Professional Soccer (yawn...) Team. I wonder how Soccer Moms and Dads are going to reconcile the safety and inclusiveness of America's Least Favorite Sport, with the advertising campaign that features, for the most part, provocatively-clad young women with implements of destruction such as saws--chain and hand--and axes, and the motto "No Pity in the Rose City!"



Why, I even paused on the Burnside Bridge, vertigo raging, to take a picture of the Steel, Broadway, and Fremont Bridges on what was a great day to be waddling towards fitness.

LARD!-O-Meter Update: The Elusive Half Pail is Mine!

Bringing my total to just over 1.5 pails, 6.08 gallons, 48.64 pints of LARD! gone from missing from my body since August 1! I can't wait to tell Professor Javier Boleyn!