HomeRegular FeaturesAdvo-CatieAdvocatie: Santa Jaws

Advocatie: Santa Jaws

It’s just past Halloween so naturally it’s time to start ignoring my New Year’s 2017 resolution to lose weight after Christmas. Incidentally, Target won the “first Christmas commercial” battle even before United Nations Day (Oct 24).

I don’t even plan not to gain weight over the holidays any more. I passed 35 a long time ago. You know that age when you know you HAVE to exercise a little more to compete with the stay-at-home yoga moms in white jeans and weird green drinks in matching Yeti mugs.

At 40 I realized exercise alone is a waste of time so I actually have to eat less no matter how much I work out. Wait for it…. hahahahaha. The cashier at McDonalds sees me three times a week and still says, “Thank you, come again.” Wellll, okay. It’s like she doesn’t even know me.

And now that I’m pretty close to the off-ramp for 50, I just don’t care any more. My bad habits are burned-in at this point and like I always say, I will do anything to lose weight except eat right and exercise.

So here’s how it works from Halloween to January. October 20: buy more Halloween candy because I ate all the chocolate I got in September before the seasonal prices kicked in.

November 1: Change radio pre-set to Sirius XM Hollyyyyy to get in the mood. Eat all the leftover Smarties I had to buy because I ate all the good stuff before Oct 20 and had to choose between candy corns or Smarties at the last minute. There’s only one way to eat candy corns… first, throw them in the trash.

If you’re like me, they are right next to those disgusting orange marshmallow peanuts. What diabolical sugar-Satan invented those nasty chalk bombs anyway?

Thanksgiving: It’s a good idea to sign up for a Turkey Trot or some other kind of fundraising race. It’s a nice thing to do to remind myself of those who are less fortunate during the season of giving. It’s also because I’m like Chris Christie; too fat to run. But then, I’m so out of shape at oh, say… the quarter-mile mark, I have to stop and get sick in the bushes. Then I don’t feel so guilty later when I shovel in turkey and more calories than Michael Phelps on butterfly day.

While I’m on running, who invented marathons? Okay, I know it was a guy in Greece and there was a battle. I suppose I might run during a war, but seriously, I can’t remember the last time I Googled anything; restaurants, job sites, or Match.com, that I didn’t include “within 10 miles” in the filter. I won’t even drive 26.2 miles.

So early December begins the round robin of Christmas brunches, lunches, dinners, parties, cookie exchanges and, in my case, a visit from Insulin Claus.

It’s a rule that I have to have snacks and heavy drinks to watch “The Grinch” and “It’s a Wonderful Life”. That’s tradition so there’s really nothing to be done there.

December 20, begin wearing yoga pants, or Santa suit to hide what shakes, when I laugh, like a bowl full of jelly. Also start stocking up on alcohol for the family events soon to come. Most of the time I don’t visit as much as I just sit and take notes for my future comedy columns. It’s good therapy.

By December 29 I’m ready to hang my new Samsung Galaxy ornament so the tree will burn down and because I’ve heard Mariah Carey say all she wants for Christmas is meeeee about a billion times, I go back to my regular pre-sets; Classic Rock, Pop, 80s, HLN, Fox News, and USA Comedy. I frequently move straight up the dial to the jokes when I just can’t take the news any more.

Naturally, this week I’ll also get at least a half-dozens cards that were delivered after Christmas and inevitably they are from people I forgot and it’s too obvious if I send them one now. Next year I’m just scheduling Facebook posts.

January 1: Wake up bright and early to start my new exercise regimen. I have no hangover because I’m too old to stay up to midnight any more. Around noon I’ll decide there is too much football to watch right now so I don’t have time to exercise. Cycle complete. And by that I mean, cycle of life. I’m still not touching a bike.

No comments

leave a comment