Do manage to eat quite well and drink bourbon whiskey. Despite my beard and long hair I do not smoke weed or play drums, though I do keep a drum set around, mostly for parties, guests, etc. I do not have a special lover but invite a nice variety of select female friends over to cook, watch movies, talk art, and banter philosophy long into the night.
 
 
TUESDAY, JANUARY 19, 2010
Clever Marketing

For a few days the TV stations were advertising the “Starving Artists Group” art sale at the Civic Center, Sunday only. Obviously the usual Asian assembly line stuff— the highest priced paintings, even with markup for advertising, rent, transport, sales staff, profit, etc. were being offered for less than half what my frames cost me.

What was clever was that while in none of the ads was it said or even hinted that the works being offered were by local artists, people were calling and asking me if I had work in the show. Somehow the marketeers were able to convey, just via their ads, the idea that the artists were local without actually coming out and saying it.

It has given me a cool idea, which I need right now since while not starving I’m still a tad on the broke side.

There’s no way I can guarantee that an original Car Series painting will ever be worth a million bucks. But I can say to a potential buyer that even if they go up a little, say they’re only worth just one-twentieth of what an Edward Hopper painting is worth, they would have made a couple bucks, as well as ended up with a unique piece.

Some have been known to complain about this outfit that calls itself Starving Artists for various reasons, but I think I owe them thanks for a marketing inspiration.

However, grateful as I am, every one of the last three Sundays has been a “Sunday Only,” so think I’m more than ready for them to move on down the road before their continual paid pitter patter and images of Impressionistic knock-offs starts gnarling my teeth.
 
 
TUESDAY, JANUARY 26, 2010
Historic Opportunity

The possible demolition of the Executive Inn opens a unique development option for the community— the chance to reconstruct Fort Anderson, built early in the Civil War and involved in two military actions during it. The fort was apparently about the size of half a city block, so would leave room for a new high-rise hotel and landscaping.

The location of the fort is given as the former Riverside Hospital, which is now gone, so for the first time in more than a hundred years a reconstruction could be located on or close to the original site, with an unobstructed view of the river. An opportunity like this may never again reopen.

Since the fort was primarily an earthwork it should not be cost-prohibitive to rebuild, mostly or entirely with grants and donations. The upcoming Civil War Sesquicentennial is a further impetus— the fort could be rededicated on the 150th anniversary of its construction.

The economic benefits would vastly exceed the cost. Since the Civil War was the only historical war fought here (and will undoubtedly remain so), tourism, reenacting, souvenirs, etc. related to it will always be more than just a fad. Its unique place in history assures its timelessness and continuing, increasing interest.

The fort could be integrated with the greenway trail, parks, Lowertown, and the rest of the riverfront development project. It could be a centerpiece for numerous community events as well as the obvious one of reenactments, thus adding to the area’s uniqueness, overall attractiveness, and long-term value for the region.

Something to consider at least.
 
 
THURSDAY, AUGUST 12, 2010
Chips Anonymous

Thankfully I don’t, as of this writing (knock on wood), feel troubled by alcoholism. Having recently run out of money, I’ve been without a jug for several days and only miss it a little, seldom thinking about it. I do have a glass of wine with a meal and that’s enough for now, though would miss bourbon more if I thought I could never drink it again.

That’s not the situation with something as simple as potato chips. If more people were like me there’d be at least as many Chips Anonymous (CA) chapters as Alcoholics Anonymous. As it is, it takes as much willpower as I have to avoid the snack aisle at the grocery.

Once in a while I’d cave and pick up a nice-sized bag of store-brand potato chips, thinking that a few before a meal would be a nice appetizer. I’d go home, eat a few, eat a few more, and end up filling up on the whole bag, around three thousand empty calories, along with enough sodium to raise blood pressure to the level of a BP well test.

It doesn’t have to necessarily be chips either. My grandmother, God rest her soul, once asked Mom to pick up a bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for her to give out as Halloween candy to the children in the trailer park. She had to taste-test one of course and ended up eating them all. She confessed to me, swore me to secrecy, and I complied.

While chips haven’t been a problem lately my late-night snack has been, being inclined to crack a jug of whiskey and settle into a movie with an unlimited supply of wheat crackers and a hefty brick of cheddar cheese, rationalizing via whole wheat and dairy protein. Next thing you know I’m toasted, content, and a thousand or more calories up.

Now if I so much as walk down the cracker aisle of the store I’ll wake up the next day and find that none of my clothes fit. So I’ve since made it that if I just open the fridge late at night and touch the cheese, 911 is automatically dialed and the police come, sirens wailing.

Over the years all of this has given me an unwanted friend that bulges out in front of me and has to be lugged around wherever I go. Nor has it made me the subject of songs by lovely female singers, made my phone ring off the hook with offers of dates, or even just women wanting to hang out and tell jokes.

So ten days ago I resolved to do something. Instead of entirely giving up the foods I liked I decided to try to eat somewhat healthier but much smaller portions (esp. like now when it is too hot outside to walk or jog) and actually try to shrink my stomach a little. So far it has worked— I’ve lost seven pounds yet been fairly satisfied with meals.

Here’s what a typical day is like food-wise. If this doesn’t interest you that’s okay, quit reading here.

Before each meal, especially in this hot weather, I’ll try to drink a whole glass of cold water, lightly flavored with lemon juice. That gives a calorie-free running start on feeling filled up.

A typical breakfast consists of half a grapefruit, sugared, and either a medium portion of oatmeal topped with cinnamon and honey, or two eggs lightly microwaved and no-sodium-seasoned over a slice of whole wheat bread. The beverage is coffee, black.

Lunch consists merely of a medium-sized potato, baked and buttered, alongside perhaps either a banana or a micro-serving of leftover brown rice with a couple grams of cheddar melted on top. The beverage is a small glass of wine and/or black coffee.

Supper is the nearest thing to what you could call a hearty meal, but not even close if you sit down and really think about it. It might start with an optional small salad, or perhaps an apple, the entrée consisting of a small serving of meat— maybe a couple leftover smoked spare ribs, or a modest baked fish over brown rice, seasoned with lemon juice.

On the side there could be a double-serving of peas or another frozen veggie microwaved in butter. The drink is usually a glass of wine, with black coffee and a bite-sized candy bar for dessert afterward.

A late-night snack, if one can’t be avoided, is either air-popped buttered popcorn or, if anything else, very small in quantity. This is perhaps the most challenging aspect, esp. if alcohol is involved. But it is worth it. While my meals aren’t hearty by even a woodchuck’s standards, since losing even a few pounds I’ve already felt much heartier myself.