Angels and Others

I bought a new pair of shoes today. “You did what?” “Bought shoes?” “Oh my God!!!” OK... hardly an earth shattering revelation. I’m even known as something of a devotee of quality footwear. In the interest of full disclosure I once broke out into a cold sweat in the men's shoes department at Barney’s upon seeing a pair of tan Prada loafers. And yes, I bought them. So with all this shoe history behind me what makes this pair a big deal? These are workout shoes, Puma Lab II sneakers to be exact. And before my inbox fills with well meaning recommendations as to which shoe I should have purchased let me be the first to say ”Save it”. I’ve heard it all.   I need one shoe for running, one for walking, one for hiking and one for biking. Wrong Dr. Seuss. I need a get up off my fat ass and do something pair and since the worlds athletic foot gear manufactures have yet to get that specific these will do just fine. I realized a few weeks ago that for all my whining ...

Take that So my weight loss has now progressed to the point (20 lbs) that people are starting to notice and in so much as most of the people I come into contact with on a daily basis are pretty nice they’re mentioning my ever shrinking mid-section. Now for any normal person this would be a godsend, a validation that all one hard work and self control has started yielding dividends. As I’m sure you’ve all deduced from my weekly ramblings I’m not normal. I being the snarky but (hopefully) loveable curmudgeon that I am can’t help but receive every compliment (matter how well intentioned) as a statement unfinished. And of course the voice in my head must complete it. “Looking good… …not like you usually do.  “ You’ve lost weight…” …and not a minute too soon. “You’re looking skinny…” …not at all like the great lumbering land beast we’ve come to love . When complimented by co-workers or casual acquaintances I manage a sincere “Yeah? Thanks” and head out of the room before the...

This is Bucky. Bucky was a happy go lucky little pug without a care in the world but one day his owners thought it would be cute to dress him up like a character from a Sci-Fi movie. As happens so often in these situations pictures of this "cuteness" have turned up on the internet. Bucky is now a humiliated,depressed and suicidal little dog. We here at speckworld beg you...Please don't dress your animals up for Halloween or any other reason. It isn't cute...It's stupid. If you won't do it for us, in the name of god, do it for Bucky.

Uh …Hi…My name is Bob and I’m an addict. It all started when I was still in my teens; I’d watch an occasional episode of Julia Child’s The French Chef or The Great Chefs series on PBS for kicks.  Nothing major, it was all just fun.  The food seemed so exotic and special and a world away from anything I experienced in 70’s suburban Virginia.  As I got a little older I began to watch these shows on a weekly basis and discovered Chef Tell who was not only one of America’s first star chefs but the inspiration for a Muppet.  And all this years before the high priestess of American food writing, Ruth Reichl, made another German with an improbable name (Wolfgang Puck) a culinary god.  By my late teens my habit had grown to include The Frugal Gourmet with Jeff Smith and Burt Wolf, whose travel related shows were irresistible to someone who dreamed of a life beyond the tract houses and of food beyond mac and cheese. Time and travel gave me more opportunities to ...

"How like life is the endive, well shaped but ah…so bitter." I’m eating vegetables. I’m not particularly proud of this fact but it’s the truth. I have eaten more vegetables since starting my diet last Monday than in the previous six months. And not the fun vegetables either, the green ones. No corn, no potatoes, no carrots and no peas. I can, however, eat kale, cabbage and kohlrabi to my hearts content. Kohlrabi? Great, now I have to “google” vegetables to find out just how much I’m going to hate eating them. For the record Kohlrabi is a German turnip with the taste and texture of a broccoli stem. A broccoli stem? Yum! Give me more of that! I take solace in knowing that my green, leafy aversion is typical of many brought up in my class (blue collar) and my country (the good ‘ol USA) and that many of us were trained to dislike vegetables almost from birth. If your ethnic background, like mine (German/Irish), was one whose default method of vegetable preparat...

I’ve crossed over to the dark side, abandoned all hope thrown in the towel, read the writing on the wall and turned my back on all I hold dear. That's right.... I’m on a diet. No cookies, cakes, pies or chips. No pizza, General Tso’s Chicken, BBQ or fried dough of any kind. Just that thin flavorless grayish-green vitamin fortified gruel-like substance you’re forced to eat when you leave the matrix. Ok I’m exaggerating...a little. I’m on the Weight Watchers For Men (more on that soon). Wheee! It’s actually a pretty cool set –up. The best part of it is that the whole thing is done on line, no meetings. Now I’m well aware that people who go to meetings tend to be more successful in their pursuit of a chafe free summer. I’m also aware that if I were to attend a typical meeting I would more than likely be killed and possibly eating by a large number of protein deprived housewives and office workers from Burbank who wouldn’t appreciate my “unique” outlook on life. So I’m keepin...

I’m a Christmas person.  So I surprised myself a little a few days ago when my partner Jeffrey asked, “What about Christmas do you like so much?” and I couldn’t really come up with an answer.  This isn’t an unusual question when you consider that I don’t particularly believe that the series of events the holiday is meant to commemorate actually took place, or if they did, it was not in the way I was taught in a Sunday school classroom at Fox Hill Central United Methodist Church.  It was while I was trying to find an answer to this question that I had something of an epiphany, a secular epiphany but an epiphany nonetheless: my love of all things Christmas has very little to do with the New Testament and a great deal to do with A Christmas Carol .  It’s not the Gospel writers (whoever they may be) and the story they tell that fills me with joy this time of year, but Charles Dickens and the story he tells— a story of ghostly figures, overworked clerks, lame c...

I’m all for progress. With the exception of cultural landmarks, I’m all in favor of clearing away the old to make way for the new. At least I thought I was until last Monday night. As a Christmas person (yep, one of those) I live for the annual broadcast of those tried and true holiday specials that we grew up with: The Grinch, Frosty, The Little Drummer Boy, Nestor The Christmas Donkey. I love them all. There are, however, two of these juvenile epics I cannot miss: A Charlie Brown Christmas and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer . So imagine my shock as I sat down in front of Hulu to watch the gentle tale of the round headed boy, the little tree and idiosyncratic dancing when instead I got something called I Want a Dog for Christmas, Charlie Brown. A sequel. They made a freaking sequel? Now as sequels go this one wasn’t bad. ..It sucked out loud. Snoopy’s out-of-town brothers Andy, Marbles, Olaf and Spike? Spike? Linus’s little brother Rerun? Rerun? In ...

Well the holiday food onslaught has begun.Right now in my office there are no less than five kinds of festive snack treats. No one seem s to know exactly where they come from, they just appear in the break room in the morning waiting to be eaten. While I’m not much given conspiracy theories I have entertained the thought that the snacks are delivered overnight by malicious imps fired by Santa and now in the employ of an underworld cabal made up of the owners of gyms and weight management systems. Does anybody even know what Jenny Craig looks like? A more plausible (but far less interesting) theory is that my co-workers have brought these sugary treasures to the office motivated less by the holiday sprit (although I’m sure that plays some part) and more by the desire to have them out of the house. Now I’m sure that the covert purveyors of these things both sweet and savory believe that they are spreading holiday cheer and no doubt they are. To those of us who can’t help but answer th...

Thanksgiving Day (or as it was known in our house, The Day When Some One Cries or Mommy Takes Pills Because You Ask Questions Day ) is now upon us and you either have or soon will eat a meal certain to equal or surpass the annual nutritional intake of a good sized Bengali village. I have not returned to my ancestral lands for today’s annual celebration of all things caloric but instead will be spending the day with partner and friends (everyone bringing a dish) as is my usual practice. It was during a discussion of this ad hoc gathering that I came to realize that while the components of the traditional Thanksgiving meal are fairly standard, turkey, stuffing (or “ dressing” if your dad wore a tie to work), sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and the obligatory vegetables the composition of said components varies greatly and opinions regarding this composition occupy a space in the holder’s heart somewhere between religious belief and the love of a first born child. While strong opin...