Reflections from the Swamp
Dear Reader
Most of us have tried diets over the years. Our biomass often increases slowly with age. I have dieted many times only to find myself returning to a set point that the body seems to be happy with. As I age, the set point drifts slowly upward like gulls at the dump or stench from a manure pile.
Twiggy was a British model who was about 90 pounds light when I was nineteen. My mother thought she was too thin and advised me to look for a heavier bride. Find a Dutch Reformed girl who can help you pull a tractor out of the ditch and who won’t blow away with the wind. I was rebellious and married a half-Dutch Catholic girl not much heavier than Twiggy. She helped me pull the tractor out of the ditch, though.
I recently met an acquaintance I hadn’t seen for a few years. He looked great, much lighter than he had been. I asked him how he had managed to lose all that weight. He told me he bought a shirt that was too small for him.
He would try on the shirt daily to see if it fit. He called it his skinny shirt. After a half year or so, the shirt fit. I said,” That’s fantastic! I’m going to get a skinny shirt from the Hub. I told him that he must have started eating less or exercising. One can’t lose weight by putting on a slim shirt. He agreed, stating that the shirt magically shows and encourages you to eat less.
My friend talked about passion. You have to want the shirt to fit more than you want Toronto to win The Stanley Cup. I’m not too fond of Toronto; I’m a Montreal Canadiens fan. It would be easier to like the shirt to fit than to cheer for Toronto. I was motivated.
I’m a man with reasonable expectations. I went to the Hub, a secondhand store in Almonte, and asked the lady for a skinny shirt. Despite volunteering at The Hub for years, she had clearly never been asked for a ‘skinny shirt’ before. I found a shirt on my own that was too small. I’m attracted to shirts that advertise warm places like Jamaica, Barbados, or Hawaii. The shirts make me look like I get to travel in the winter instead of freezing to death at The Swamp. I’ve never been to any of those places.
I proudly brought the shirt home. My bride told me that the shirt was too small and that I could hardly squeeze into it. She didn’t know about skinny shirts, so I explained the theory behind them.
My bride then marched me to the basement, showing me an extensive collection of shirts I don’t wear anymore because they’re too small. It’s like visiting a shirt museum down there! She said I used to love your look in this Hawaiian golf shirt; make it your skinny shirt.
There is nothing better than a supportive bride who doesn’t cheer for Toronto, helps me pull tractors out of the ditch and, like me, dreams of someday going to Hawaii with her man in a skinny shirt.
