Seeing the real magic

And now for a story that starts out a bit Hollywood-centric, but it will become more general as we go on.

I recently made another foray to The Magic Castle in Hollywood, which isn’t quite as hard to manage as it’s reputed to be. All you have to do is befriend magicians, and ask — or know people who know magicians. Or, if you have the money, you can become an associate member for a $1,500 initiation fee and $750 per year, or just stay in the adjacent Magic Hotel. If you’re into magic, it’s well worth the visit.

If you don’t have that kind of money and have to rely on connections, note that the valet parking is a bit pricey at $14 per car, but if you don’t mind a walk you can get there from the Hollywood and Highland Metro Station, or just use a ride-sharing service. The food is excellent but, again, on the higher end. However, eating in the dining room does get you admission to the main room shows, which is where the big effects happen, so factor that into the price of the meal. If you don’t mind missing the big shows but are still hungry, food at either of the bars is in the typical restaurant range for L.A., and it is likewise very good.

Now, like a lot of people who were once little kids, I went through my fascination with magic phase, and had the obligatory kits and tricks. There was also a magic shop a few miles from my house that I used to ride my bike to during my middle school days, and the owner was kind enough to let me hang around and watch him demonstrate tricks or watch magicians try out new effects or card moves.

The only problem was that when it came to doing magic I did not have the manual dexterity for it. My hands were adapted to playing piano, not to sleight-of-hand, so unless a trick did itself, I wasn’t very good at it, so I never pursued it. For a long time, I kind of resented magicians for this reason, until I discovered Penn & Teller. Their whole shtick is partly about revealing how some old classic tricks are done, but even then they’ll top it by using the exposed version to show what kind of mad skills it takes, or subvert it by then hiding a bigger trick behind the reveal — in effect showing you everything while hiding something even more amazing.

Anyway, it was ironically through their giving away of secrets (something that some other magicians absolutely hate them for) that really increased my appreciation of magic. I went on to learn about how all sorts of tricks worked, but then watching magic became an entirely different sort of thing for me. Audiences who don’t know the tricks (no, I’m not going to call them No-Maj, thanks!) are wowed and amazed and baffled. Meanwhile, when I watch, I appreciate the sheer talent of a skilled magician while I watch exactly how they’re misdirecting the audience. I may know the punchline to the trick the moment the magician sets it up and long before it’s revealed, but that’s an entirely different level of enjoyment.

I’d compare it to the difference in experience between a musician and a non-musician watching a performance. The latter may just appreciate the music on an emotional and aesthetic level. Meanwhile, the former may be watching it from a completely different place, which could very well offer frequent thoughts of, “Holy crap, how did they make those two keys fit together in counterpoint and have two separate lyric lines suddenly mesh perfectly?” (This is also known as “pulling a Sondheim.”)

The other night at The Magic Castle, I was lucky enough to be sitting at the right hand of the close-up magician who had invited my friend as he did a half-hour routine especially for our group at a green felt-topped table that was quickly surrounded by spectators not in the inner circle. And for his whole routine, I knew enough to ignore the misdirection and always watch what the hand he didn’t want us to look at was doing. I did catch one specific move that I think may have actually been just to fake me out because it shouldn’t have been necessary for the trick that followed, but as I found out afterwards, he was as onto me as I was to him. When I complimented him afterwards,  he said, “You’ve done magic, haven’t you?”

“No, I’ve just studied it a lot,” I replied.

During his routine, while everyone else was watching what he wanted them to, I was just as enthralled watching how skillfully he was pulling off what he was hiding — every palm and ditch, force and false cut, load and steal, every stack and double lift. In magician’s terms, I was giving him a burn. But my intent was never to go, “A-ha, you just (reveal trick)!” No. It was to be awed on an entirely different level. His skills are absolutely amazing.

The Magic Castle is like that, and the place is full of little bits of magic to be discovered, but probably one of the most remarkable is Irma, the ghost piano player who performs in the lounge behind the upstairs bar. The effect is simple. When she’s not on break, ask Irma for a song, and unless it’s something ridiculously obscure, she’ll start playing it. (I stumped her with Echame la culpa, but I figured that it wouldn’t be in her repertoire anyway.)

She’ll also answer questions with short musical bits. For example, someone in our party asked if she was in love with anyone, and this was answered with “I’m Just Wild about Harry.”

Obviously, the grand piano with no one sitting in front of it is somehow remotely operated, but the big question is how. And remember: Irma has been a part of The Magic Castle all along, since its opening in 1963, at which point the effect presented itself exactly the same way, more on which in a moment.

I’ve heard people theorize on it, conjecturing everything from tons of player piano rolls, to voice recognition and AI, to a hidden player pulling up sheet music via computer. And, of course, it all works through hidden microphones. The first two are unlikely, the third is unnecessary, and the microphones don’t explain everything that happens.

Once you start really paying attention to what’s going on, you’ll discover that there’s one thing a lot of people don’t realize. In fact, I didn’t realize it until we walked into the lounge with our magician host and Irma immediately started played The Pink Panther, which he pointed out is his theme song. Also, when he set his trick bag on the table in front of us and went to the bar, the table slowly rotated so the bag was suddenly in front of me. When he game back, we told him what had happened and he said it was just Irma’s way of being funny.

After that, one of our party joined us with a glass of tequila and yes — Irma played a few bars of that song. Much later in the evening, after we paid one last visit to Irma and were on the way out, she started playing Anything Goes — the first song asked for that night by the one member of our party who’d never been there before and who had had the tequila. He had started walking out without a word.

So there’s no possible way that it’s just microphones, but I could not spot any likely place for cameras to be hidden. Not that it’s not possible, although it’s more likely that they still rely on the low-tech method of people with microphones behind two-way mirrors to relay information to the — pardon the expression — ghost in the machine that is the human player hidden somewhere. This would certainly be a logical use of some very old mind-reader act trickery, after all.

Personally, I’m entirely convinced that Irma is operated by a human piano player who is not relying on computers or AI or any other fancy technology. Rather, it’s a human who is just relying on their own talents and skill. And that is the biggest magic trick of all.

Remember that the next time someone amazes you with what they can do, and thank them for it — then go out there and be amazing at what you do.

To my American readers, Happy Thanksgiving! ¡Feliz día de la acción de gracias!

Chapter Fourteen

This chapter comes with its own cookbook, documenting DIY condiments and a few recipes I’ve customized. But first… advice on learning how to do something and a shout out to some friends.

Putting it all together

If you’ve come this far, then you’ve followed my journey through some really hard work, and if you’ve managed to get a good start at it, congratulations. Don’t stop and don’t give up. But half of the fun of changing your life is finding new and more creative ways to do it. This chapter is going to be all about the practical, and I’m going to share some of the recipes and replacements that I’ve discovered and altered to fit my diet over the last year and a half.

Previously, I’ve discussed healthier versions of various seasonings and condiments, but you can also make your own versions of the latter, and the best part about doing so is not only do you have complete control over what goes into them, but you can fiddle around and adjust the recipes to suit both your own dietary needs and your palate.

And, like anything else, the only way to get better is through practice. The more you do anything, the better you get at it. Look at one of my non-cooking examples: I walked into my first improv class at the beginning of 2017 being absolutely terrified of even trying it. Just under a year later, at the end of 2017, I started doing it for real for audiences as often as I could and I am loving it.

Another example I haven’t mentioned. At my (former) workplace but still freelance office away from home (long story), there’s a ping pong table. Before I got out of the hospital, I never even tried to play. I thought I’d be terrible at it, honestly. It was something that I watched my two office besties, Peter and Cooper, do all the time for well over a year, and they were both quite good at it, but I was intimidated.

But then, not long after I got out of the hospital and was feeling better, I figured what the hell, let’s give it a shot. And I sucked. Peter and Cooper could both kick my ass with their eyes closed, although to their great credit they really held back at first. And they also taught me, little by little. While I’m not as consistently good as either of them to this day, I can still manage to sometimes hold my own and win a game or two, although I will never take it as seriously as Cooper does and I will never mind losing to Peter because he’s nice about winning.

But I do digress.

My point was that my progression on both fronts — improv and table tennis — is one of the biggest lessons I want to share with you, my loyal readers. You can’t get good at anything if you don’t try, but you have to understand that when you try it at first you’re probably not going to be any good at it. If you are good from the start, then congratulations. You’re a prodigy, and you should absolutely keep going.

Don’t be afraid to ask others for advice or to teach you. Peter and Cooper taught me how to play ping pong, among many other things. Rick, Holly, Jen, and Abel, along with all of my fellow students, taught me how to do improv, among many other things — and every audience I appear in front of teaches me a little bit more about what works and what doesn’t.

I’m going to share a little bit with you about how to cook, but don’t be afraid to seek out the help of others. J. Kenji Lopez-Alt, an American chef and food writer, can teach you all about the science of cooking in his books and blog, and there’s a copy of his weighty tome The Food Lab in my kitchen right now — although be careful with his stuff, because he does lean a bit toward too much salt. Listen to him for the how of cooking; not so much for the exact ingredients.

It might seem strange that I’m both promoting and criticizing Lopez-Alt in the same paragraph, but the fact that he teaches science-based cooking brings up a good point. When it comes to the strict chemistry of things, salt is really, really useful. It’s a preservative. It helps to denature proteins and make them cook better, and it facilitates necessary reactions in baking. When I first discovered him, way pre-hospital, I followed his recipe for scrambled eggs, which involved tossing in a teaspoon of salt with the raw eggs, then letting them sit for fifteen minutes before whisking and cooking.

And yes, they were the best scrambled eggs I’d ever had. And they had at least 2,325 mg of sodium from just the salt, never mind what came from the eggs and milk. In other words, it was nearly twice what I’m supposed to have in an entire day in a single breakfast item.

So… not really a viable roadmap to follow without editing the ingredients yourself and acknowledging that some bits of cooking magic will be impossible. On the other hand, if you stick to his methods regarding cooking tools and times and techniques, then he’s absolutely worth following.

There are also cookbooks geared toward specific dietary needs, like both editions of the American Heart Association’s Low Salt Cookbooks, which happen to be sitting right next to my copy of The Food Lab unironically. Any brick and mortar bookstore or online retailer (although, please, go to the former first!) will have an array of books designed for low-sodium, low-fat, sugar-free, vegan, gluten-free, kosher, halal, and any other kind of diet you can think of. You can also find books, and plenty of blogs, teaching general cooking techniques.

One go-to blog for me personally is SodiumGirl which, despite the title, is oriented toward low-sodium diets. Other useful sites are FatSecret for tracking calories and keeping a food diary, and EatThisMuch for meal-planning, although you’ll need to set up a free account in order to customize beyond daily Calorie count. I tested it without being logged in, and the first suggested menu under vegetarian options blew my sodium count with breakfast alone, so be aware.

But let’s get to cooking and start it out simple, with the All-American trio of condiments: ketchup, mayonnaise, and mustard.

* * *

Read an excerpt from Chapter Thirteen or start with the Prologue.

 

Chapter Thirteen

It isn’t all puppies and unicorns when you try to improve yourself, and I’m no exception. In this excerpt, I discuss the setbacks I hit and how I dealt with them.

Inevitable setbacks

Since this chapter flashes back to the Prologue, it’s appropriate to have its own prologue. Remember the diary we started back in Chapter Five? Well, I keep one, too, and I documented a lot of what I went through below, good and bad, although I wrote this chapter after I came back out the other side. If it reads at times like I’m in the midst of the Sturm und Drang, it’s because I’ve basically collaborated with myself from that time period when everything seemed like it went pear-shaped.

And yes, I’m quite aware of the irony of using a food metaphor in a book that’s supposed to help you lose weight, but at least it’s a somewhat healthy food metaphor. But I do digress…

For me, Labor Day weekend of 2017 was a high-point in this entire process. That’s when the incident I mentioned in the prologue happened. What I didn’t mention there was the purpose of the camp. It’s put on by a group called the California Community of Men, or CalComMen for short, which is basically a heart-centered social group for, as the leader puts it, “men who love men.”

They specifically avoid using the label “gay” alone because the group is more inclusive than that and covers the entire spectrum of men — gay, bisexual, transgender, and yes, even straight. A big part of avoiding labels, I’ve learned, is that there are a lot of men in the group who came out very late in life, many of them who had already been married to women and had families. I’ve done none of those things, but there are also plenty of other members like me, so it all balances out.

A lot of their events are clothing optional, which was another attraction for me. And no, it’s not all about sex parties. I should explain that there actually is a range when it comes to men’s social groups like this, ranging from the very prudish ones that don’t have any kind of nudity or hanky-panky going on at their events all the way to the ones for which that’s their entire raison d’etre. If I remember correctly, the group on the no sex side is almost totally spiritual and political in nature, while the group where sex is all but required goes by a rather quaint acronym that is a homonym for the crew of a submarine. Since I’ve never been involved in either of those groups directly, I won’t name them here, but you can probably find them if you look.

Of course, the sex fest group really gets the definition of naturism wrong, because it absolutely isn’t about sex at all. It’s about being comfortable with your own body and getting in touch with nature. As I’ve explained elsewhere, I’ve pretty much always been a nudist, I feel comfortable that way, and especially now that I’ve gotten back into shape I have no problems hanging around naked with other people.

But, as it turned out, this camp had suddenly become pretty much not clothing-optional except for a couple of indoor events mainly because one of the attendees at the previous session had not followed the rules, ending up in places he shouldn’t have been, which got the attention of neighboring camps. But that was fine with me because that wasn’t what this whole experience was about.

It was about trying new things and testing myself and making a lot of new friends and when I came back home, I was on a total high. I had also taken the Tuesday after Labor Day off at work, so I and my cabin-mate, whom I had met the day before camp because he needed a ride up from L.A., decided to go back via Palm Springs and spend the day and night at a small clothing-optional resort that had hosted CalComMen earlier that summer. Shout out to Tortuga del Sol. We practically had the place to ourselves.

I had an appointment with my cardiologist the day I came back to work, and my heart had improved nicely. This was also when I impressed him when I told him that I was losing weight despite eating things like pasta.

“Pasta!” he exclaimed to me, incredulous. “You eat pasta and look like this? You should talk to my wife and tell her your secrets.” He punctuated this by patting his belly.

And then, the next day, I got laid off from my job of a decade that I had loved so much because the company was having cash-flow issues, largely driven by lackluster web sales, something that has become more and more common everywhere that isn’t a website that starts with “A” and ends with “mazon.” It wasn’t a total layoff and I’m still writing for them freelance, but, obviously, it’s a lot less income and I’m no longer an employee, so I get to do things like pay for my own health insurance which, obviously, is really, really important to me because of everything that’s happened.

At about $460 a month for the same plan I had from work, I thought it was expensive until I tried to fill a prescription before my COBRA had kicked in — one of my heart meds of the “you can’t stop this one cold turkey” variety — only to find out that its real price was more than half of my monthly premium. Fortunately, Kaiser is very understanding, so instead of charging me outright, they agreed to bill me with the idea being that by the time that did happen my insurance would have kicked in and I’d pay the usual $11. And that’s what happened.

And yes, why a life-saving prescription would actually be more than my car payment in the first place, I have no idea. Welcome to America!

But… it was only because of a few things that my world did not crash down immediately. Number one, like I mentioned, I was still on a total high from camp. Number two, for once in my life I’d saved money like a madman, so there was a nice cushion waiting. Number three, the severance deal I got was ridiculously generous, so I was essentially paid through the end of the year, along with the freelance income and unemployment I’d be getting.

On the other hand, I do tend to have what’s called seasonal affective disorder, also known as “it gets dark early, so I get depressed easily.” The rest of September and October went pretty well, but as November came around and the clocks changed, I started to drift into a much darker mood and saw my motivation slip away as well. Now, I didn’t relapse by gaining weight or smoking again, but I was definitely no longer on my end of summer high.

Around the holiday season — which, in America, is basically “everything after Halloween,” —  I also had back-to-back romantic fake-outs. The first was someone who friended me and messaged med on Facebook after he’d joined a group I belonged to. At first, he hit on me hard and I bought it for a little bit, but things began to not add up pretty quickly. For example, he claimed to be an engineer living in the U.S., but his English was barely passable — and you don’t get that kind of degree without good language skills. He claimed to be from Brazil, but I couldn’t get a word of Portuguese out of him, and he’d just ignore any questions I asked him in Portuguese. (It’s a quirk of Google Translate that Spanish to Portuguese is much more accurate than either of those languages to or from English, so I came fairly well-armed.) As soon as he mentioned that he’d be going to Africa to negotiate a contract for a project, that’s when the dime dropped, so I just played along until he tried to bait the inevitable scam.

The way the scam works in a nutshell is that the Con Artist (them) asks the Mark (you) to help them out by cashing a large check for them. They can’t do it because they don’t have a bank account or they’re trying to hide the money from a spouse or the government, or whatever reason. By the way, in exchange for doing this for them, you get to keep a generous chunk of that check — 10%, 25%, whatever.

When the Mark falls for it, the check appears to be absolutely legit. It goes into their bank, it clears, and they send the balance, less their fee, on to the Con Artist, who promptly vanishes. It isn’t until weeks or months later that the Mark’s bank finds out the check was a fake — and guess who gets left holding the bag for the money that never existed? It’s called Advance Fee Fraud, and it’s a really, really old scam.

Of course, when my would-be con artist mentioned going to Africa, I told him to beware of Nigerian Princes and he asked me what that meant. I then proceeded to explain to him exactly the advance fee scam he was going to try to pull on me, but I guess he didn’t get the clue. When he asked me if I had a bank account, the alarm bells were going off big time, so when he asked if I could help him get money from a business partner “through your account,” I flat out told him “No” in Portuguese.

Funny coincidence, though — at just about exactly his moment, one of my good friends posted a video on Facebook from a man who’d gone through almost the same thing — minus the lonely hearts angle. Instead of blocking his scammer or reporting him, he told him, “I know you’re trying to con me, but tell me where you are and why you’re doing this, and I’ll see what I can do to help you legally.”

And, what do you know, he actually did. His scammer was in Liberia, and the man told him that he needed pictures from his country and would pay for the ones he could use. The scammer sent some photos and… they were awful. Eventually, the man sent him a $30 digital camera that was still much better than whatever the scammer was using… and the photos still sucked. But after the man gave the scammer some tips, the photos improved. This led to an Indiegogo campaign with the goal of creating a book of the pictures to document life in Liberia.

It succeeded, and as the man promised, he sent half the money from book sales to his now would-be scammer, with the promise to contribute the other half to some cause in Liberia. The Liberian photographer told the man that the schools there really needed help. This led to the photographer using the rest of the book money to basically buy out all the school supplies in town and give them to the students, happy ending for everyone.

Yeah, my friend is great at finding inspirational stuff like this. I’ve told him many times, although I still don’t think he believes it, that he has always inspired me to be a better person because he’s such an awesome human.

So… I made the same offer to my would-be scammer. I told him I was on to what he was doing, but if he told me where he was and why he was trying to scam people, I’d see what I could do to help him. I made that offer a couple of times, in fact.

Unlike the Liberian, he just kept doubling down. “I’m in Maryland, and I need you to use your account to get me money from my business partner.”

Well, so much for that, and I unfriended him. But you can’t say I didn’t try. Right?

* * *


Continue reading “Chapter Thirteen”

Chapter Twelve

In this excerpt from Chapter Twelve, I share my tips and tricks for healthier eating through creative cooking.

What’s cooking?

All right. We’ve made it together this far, so now it’s time for the fun stuff. I’ve written plenty about nutrition and how to lose weight. Now I’m going to tell you how to put it into practice and share some of the kitchen tips that I’ve learned myself.

Aside from paying attention to the nutrition facts, a big part of eliminating sodium from my diet involved coming up with workarounds to avoid it as much as possible. Remember: salt isn’t the only seasoning in your pantry that’s full of sodium. Soy sauce, steak sauce, ketchup, mustard, Sriracha, and teriyaki sauce can have surprisingly high amounts of it. There are variations, though. For example, honey mustard tends to be lower in sodium than yellow or Dijon, but higher in sugar.

Some condiments can be multiple offenders, as well. Not only is ketchup full of sodium, it’s often loaded with sugar via our old friend high fructose corn syrup — although low sodium ketchup is available. And some brands, like Trader Joe’s Organic Ketchup, are much lower in sugar, at 2 grams per serving, while a brand like Heinz has twice as much sugar but about the same amount of sodium. BBQ sauce is an even bigger offender in all areas except for fat. And mayo, while tasty, hits hard in fat content and, depending on brand, can be a little high in sodium.

Prepared horseradish is probably the most surprising of the bad condiments, bringing with it an excess of sodium, sugar, and fat. Better to make your own instead, which is surprisingly easy. I’ll explain how to do it later in this chapter.

Healthy alternatives to the aforementioned condiments include things like hummus, pesto, tahini, tzatziki, guacamole, chutney, and certain salsas. And, again, some types of mustard can be healthy if you pay attention to the sodium content. Another Indian staple, raita, is also healthy and not only goes great with chutney, but can replace mayonnaise.

Take a look at the healthy and unhealthy list one more time and see if you can spot the pattern. That’s right — the unhealthy ones are mostly all-American/Northern European, while the healthy ones come from Southern Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. The outliers on both sides are unhealthy soy and teriyaki sauces from Asia, and healthy guacamole from Latin America.

* * *

Spicing it up

“He who controls the spice controls the universe.”

That quote comes from Frank Herbert’s Dune and, in the context of the books, was more a metaphor for control of fossil fuels than seasonings, because Herbert’s “spice” was a substance produced by sandworms that gave interstellar navigators their ability to fold space. So in its original contest, you could replace “spice” with “gasoline” to get the same result.

Oddly enough, though, quite a lot of colonial expansion in the age of “discovery” (aka the age of “killing non-white people”) involved bringing back new and exotic spices from all those countries discovered in the Americas and South Pacific. Prior to that, a lot of trade between Europe and Asia done overland involved the importation of spices as well.

A lot of this trade and seeking of new flavors, though, was just an extension of the Old World’s deadly love affair with salt.

Now, I completely understand the appeal of salt. I was hooked on it myself for a long time. So, when you have to cut way back on the sodium, you run the risk of everything suddenly tasting bland. But fear not: there are healthy alternatives that can flavor that food right back up and, in fact, make it taste even better than it did with salt.

When I was in the hospital, one of the nurses there tipped me off to a brand of seasoning called Mrs. Dash. It was developed in the 1980s by Carol Bernick, who wanted to create salt-free seasoning alternatives for cooking at home. Each flavor is made from granulated herbs and spices, and they have quite a range of them. There are twelve varieties of spices in all: Caribbean citrus, extra spicy, fiesta lime, garlic and herb, Italian medley, lemon pepper, onion and herb, original, Southwest chipotle, spicy jalapeño, table blend, and tomato basil garlic.

I have tried most of them, although I have a caveat. Because they don’t contain salt, they are subject to clotting in humid weather, so you definitely need to keep them in a very dry place. I’ve tried six out of the bunch and found that lemon pepper, Southwest chipotle, and table blend clumped the most, while original and Italian medley clumped the least and garlic and herb has never clumped at all, so keep that in mind.

They also make three grilling varieties, for chicken, steak, and hamburger. I’ve only tried the chicken, but it hasn’t clumped either. Of course, you can probably completely avoid this issue with their liquid 10-minute marinades, which I haven’t tried any of yet, although I suppose I will be, since I didn’t even know they existed until I researched the history of the product to write this section!

There are other salt substitutes out there, some good and some bad. In general, you should try to avoid substitutes with potassium chloride in them, especially if you have kidney problems or are taking certain medications. Consult with your doctor first.

None of the Mrs. Dash products contain potassium chloride and range from a minor 5 to 10 mg of potassium per serving. Some brands of salt substitute that also lack potassium chloride are The Spice Hunter, Benson’s Table Tasty, and Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Magic Salt Free Seasoning.

But you don’t need to resort to commercial replacements, especially since some of them can be a bit pricey — Prudhomme’s is $7.09 for a 5 oz shaker on Amazon, for example. The nice thing about going salt-free is that it actually opens up all kinds of possibilities for flavorings, some of which you may never even have thought of before.

Here are some of my personal favorites…

* * *

Read an excerpt from Chapter Eleven, or start with the Prologue.

 

Chapter Ten

When you lose a lot of weight, you discover things you might not have expected. In this excerpt from Chapter Ten, I discuss one of them.

Twenty things you learn when you lose a lot of weight

While I was in the hospital, I lost close to sixty pounds real fast in the form of the water they managed to squeeze out of me with a diuretic IV, but that left me at 220, which was only slightly less than I’d been hovering at for a while. It took me exactly a week to break the 200 lb. barrier going down, and then about seven months to lose the next 20. It was exactly a year to the day after I went into the hospital that I dropped below 170 for the first time.

So it’s not a fast process by any means, and there are ups and downs along the way, although fortunately because of my changes in diet and lifestyle, the “ups” were very small and temporary, and never more than six pounds in a day, although generally I would also lose most of that gain by the next morning.

Here’s a fun fact: Yes, it is possible to lose weight while you sleep. In fact, it’s apparently totally normal, something I’ve documented by weighing myself twice a day, every day — right after I get up and go to the bathroom and right before I go to bed. Remember: We breathe in oxygen and breathe out carbon dioxide, which is 38% heavier than oxygen, so there’s some of your passive weight-loss right there. The vast majority of the air we breathe — 70% at sea-level — isn’t even oxygen, it’s nitrogen and other inert gases, so it just goes right in and right out.

Sweat can also remove weight while you sleep.

Here’s another fun but totally anecdotal fact that I’ve verified with my handy digital bathroom scale: A good ripper of a fart can actually make you slightly heavier! Although note that your results may vary and come down to whether your gas is predominantly methane or hydrogen sulfide, which determines whether you’re losing weight or losing buoyancy. Yes, that’s actually a thing. Gas inside your intestines can make you a little less dense and a little more “floaty,” or affect you the other way around.

The more you know…

Anyway, in my case, it was that rapid 20 lb. loss right at the start that helped really kick-start things for me and kept me from getting frustrated or really noticing (even until now) that it took so long for the rest of the weight to drop.

There are both pros and cons to losing weight. Some of them are probably pretty obvious. When you lose weight, you’re healthier, it’s easier to get around, seats on subways and in theaters are much roomier (although not necessarily more comfortable), and people don’t give you the stink eye when they see you coming.

But some of the benefits and annoyances will probably surprise you. What surprised me was not only going through them myself but, as I was researching for this book, finding people with similar stories and realizing that things that I experienced that I thought were weird were totally normal. Here are just a few of them.

* * *

It gets cold

For most of my life, I’ve been more a fan of colder weather than hot — which goes really great when you grow up in Southern California (sarcasm), and has gotten even less great as the weather has gotten hotter and hotter over the years. But when I was younger, I could have run around naked in the snow and worked up a sweat, but not have cared one bit or felt at all cold — but let it get much above room temperature and I’d have started sweating like crazy.

And this was always independent of my weight. Whether I was fat or thin, I always preferred it cold. That all changed this time around, but that’s probably an advantage. All of a sudden, the heat doesn’t really affect me at all while the cold does. This was probably why I willingly made so many trips to Palm Springs this year — I can now tolerate temps above 110ºF (43ºC).

This isn’t something that we’re all imagining, either. Called “cold intolerance,” it’s a real phenomenon with several causes. The most obvious one, of course, is that you lose a lot of insulation. For me, that translated into an 11- to 12-inch drop in waist size, from 42 to 30-ish. I saw “ish” because 31 inch pants are a little big on me while 30 are a little small, so I’m right in between. Another issue can be caused by Calorie restriction, which slows your metabolism. Lowering metabolism is like damping a furnace — less energy burned, less heat created.

In my case in particular, I had also developed a bit of anemia, although that finally cleared up. But it’s a condition that can also contribute to feeling cold. In fact, this is one of the reasons that women are often colder than men in the same situations and temperatures — losing blood can cause anemia, and menstruation leads to blood loss, which most men don’t even realize is a thing.

One of the places where I found a lot of confirmation of what I’d experienced was in a Reddit thread in the Ask Reddit sub with the question “Former fat people of reddit, (sic) what were some unintended side effects of your weight loss?” Feeling cold happened to be the most popular response, but far from the only one.

Yeah, who knew — useful information from an online news aggregator. (Actually, if you pick the right so-called sub-reddits, you can learn a lot.)

* * *

Read an excerpt from Chapter Nine or go to the Prologue.

Chapter Nine

It seemed wrong to post a chapter from this book during Thanksgiving, hence the delay — but I’ve also caught up with myself, and am now working only one chapter ahead. That’s good news, though. I’m getting close to done with the book!

A train, a street, and a saint

Before I get to some more techniques for changing your lifestyle, I have another story — although it comes with two other stories as preface.

Los Angeles first opened its modern subway and rail system on July 14, 1990, with the inauguration of the Blue Line, which runs from downtown to Long Beach. Since then, the system has expanded and as of late 2017 it now has 80 stations, and 87 miles of rail which also connect to 120 bus routes. I’ve been a fan of the system from the beginning, and used to take the Red Line into downtown Los Angeles all the time — so long, in fact, that it wasn’t even called DTLA when I first started going. Another common destination was a great used video and DVD store on Hollywood Boulevard just down the block from the Hollywood and Highland station.

I’d gotten away from riding regularly, though, and especially once mobility became more difficult, so it was actually a great pleasure and became a new pastime once I got out of the hospital to rediscover the rail system here. I started taking weekend trips as well as spent a week-long staycation in the spring buying a day pass, then hopping on a train and exploring, and I wound up going to some places that I’d either never been to before or hadn’t been in a long time.

I’d love to take a train to an unfamiliar neighborhood, hop off and just walk around. This is something I encourage people, especially city-dwellers, to do — because there is no better way to get to know the hidden gems that are impossible to notice from a car. Whether it’s bits of street art, hidden shops, or even entire streets, it is well worth the experience. There’s also the added bonus of it being great exercise. On some of these trips, I’d wind up walking three to five miles but didn’t even notice it.

One destination that used to be very familiar to me and which I rediscovered was Olvera Street, which is about the oldest bit of L.A. history still standing. It’s part of the El Pueblo de Los Angeles Historic Monument and is known as the birthplace of Los Angeles, an event that happened on September 4, 1781 as forty-four settlers known as “Los Pobladores” created the pueblo that at the time had the much more cumbersome name of El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles de Porciúncula — although that date is more traditional than historical, as there really wasn’t all that much of a to-do at the time, and the idea that all forty-four settlers walked together from Mission San Gabriel Arcángel to El Pueblo is a bit of mythology that was created much later.

The rail route to Olvera Street is via Union Station. Built in 1939, it’s the largest passenger rail station in the Western U.S., and it’s easy to believe if you ever transfer to or from the Gold Line and have to walk down the long hallway that connects all the various platforms. The place really is huge, and manages to seamlessly combine three separate architectural styles — Streamline Moderne, Art Deco, and Mission Revival — into a combo called Mission Moderne. (Sorry. My dad was an architect, so I tend to pay attention to those kinds of things.)

Olvera Street is just across from Union Station, and it’s impossible to walk into the Pueblo and not feel a great sense of history of the entire city — not just in terms of dates, but in seeing what is the authentic and original culture of quite a lot of the state of California. If you went there and ignored the tourists, you could spend the entire time speaking nothing but Spanish, which is just one of the many personal draws of the place for me.

On weekends, there’s always at least one musician or band playing, surrounded by a dancing crowd of people of all ages, and Olvera Street itself is a narrow but vibrant, two-sided lane stuffed with shops of all kinds on both sides and down the middle. The only traffic is pedestrian. Of course, most of the shops specialize in traditional Mexican clothing, arts, and crafts, combined with the inevitable tourist-trap schlock that you see everywhere. Beautiful recreations of the Aztec calendar and displays full of dulces direct from the De La Rosa candy company sit side-by-side with cheap T-shirts emblazoned with “Los Angeles,” “Hollywood,” and the like.

By the way, you can shop some limited items online if you go to Olvera-street.com, although the selection there includes mostly apparel and mugs and is hardly a reflection of the incredible variety on hand in the real location.

But that brings me finally to the story I meant to tell. I happened to revisit Olvera Street for the first of many times on Palm Sunday, 2016, and in one of the shops there bought a small statue of San Miguel (St. Michael) doing his thing, which is traditionally to be standing on Satan’s head, about to plunge a sword in his face. Not long after that, I also acquired a medal depicting the same story in the alternate version, with a dragon standing in for Satan, although the imprint of “St. Michael” at the edge indicates that this isn’t actually some St. George wannabe.

Since I’ve mentioned previously that I’m not at all religious, you’re probably wondering why the statue and medal would have any appeal for me, and the reason is because the two are highly symbolic. Hey, you don’t have to believe in the religious part in order to find the message or allegory to be incredibly moving.

In my situation, especially after the hospital, St. Michael became very meaningful to me because he and the devil (or dragon) represent the struggle I had gone through and won. Some people would see it as representing the triumph of good over evil. I prefer to see it as the battle we must eternally fight against our own demons.

We need to become our own St. Michael or San Miguel, and to think of ourselves in exactly that way. It’s a powerful and empowering image, especially once we cast our own bad habits in role of Lucifer. (The image at the top of this story is of the statue I bought in case you’re not familiar with the symbolism for this particular saint.)

Wings, Roman armor, a sword, and the scales of justice — this is one archangel who comes well-prepared. Meanwhile, Satan is naked and ass-up, helpless against the onslaught.

That’s how I want you to start thinking about the habits you want to break and the things you want to change as I walk you through the process of putting on that armor, picking up that sword, and growing wings.

Now let’s go!

* * *

Read an excerpt from Chapter Eight or Chapter Ten, or start with the Prologue.

Chapter Eight

In this excerpt from Chapter Eight, I begin to discuss some of the unexpected places where excess sodium, sugar, and fat are hiding and how to avoid them.

The dirty yet open secrets of food

Once my doctor and nutritionist taught me how to properly pay attention to those Nutrition Facts labels, I started to see traps everywhere. They were right. Sodium wasn’t just in the obvious places, like pretzels and chips. And although that was my only initial concern, I began to see that fat and sugar were hiding in places you wouldn’t think to find them, either.

There are some things that naturally have sodium when you wouldn’t expect it. For example, spinach actually has 24 mg per cup. Not a huge amount, really, and totally safe. The fruit and vegetable families are generally sodium-free, but there are still surprises like this. Here are some others, with their sodium count per cup: chard, 77 mg; celery, 81 mg; carrots, 88 mg; beets, 106 mg; artichoke, 320 mg; and seaweed, 792 mg.

Seaweed probably shouldn’t be that big of a surprise since it grows in salt water, but what about the most common shellfish? Those figures are, again for one cup: oysters, 193 mg; lobster, 401 mg; mussels, 649 mg; Dungeness crab, 669 mg; shrimp, 810 mg; clams, 1,364 mg; and Alaska king crab, 1,895 mg.

Since I’m going to cover all of the food groups, let’s look at meat. Those numbers are: beef, 59 mg; turkey, 109 mg; chicken, 170 mg; lamb, 186 mg; pork, 1,262 mg; honey smoked ham, 2,043 mg; bacon, 2,384 mg. The last three are a really good reason for pork to be considered tref and haram.

You wouldn’t think that the cheese aisle would be a minefield of sodium, but it is. A look at that list shows why the only cheese I eat anymore is Swiss — and I find the “Most Sodium” award winner in this category to be very ironic. The per cup figures are: aged Swiss, 440 mg; Jarlsberg, 1,053 mg; havarti, 1,187 mg; Gruyere, 1,378 mg; pepper jack, 1,405 mg; provolone, 1,419 mg; Brie, 1,428 mg; mild cheddar, 1,460 mg; string cheese, 1,703 mg; mozzarella, 1,703 mg; Gouda, 1,859 mg; imitation American, 3,053 mg; and deluxe American, 4,061 mg.

The per slice figures aren’t much more encouraging. Based on 20 grams per slice, they work out to be: aged Swiss, 35 mg; Jarlsberg, 93 mg; havarti, 105 mg; Gruyere, 121 mg; pepper jack, 124 mg; provolone, 125 mg; Brie, 126 mg; mild cheddar, 129 mg; string cheese, 150 mg; mozarella, 150 mg; Gouda, 164 mg; imitation American, 269 mg; and deluxe American, 358 mg.

Did I mention that I used to love to have grilled cheese sandwiches with eight slices of that imitation American cheese? Toss that between two slices of wheat bread and slather with margarine, and voilà: 2,555 mgs of sodium in a single sitting! As for the other figures, that one sandwich had 2,336 Calories, 171 grams of fat, 70 of sugar, and 165 of carbs. But it was just so damn delicious!

Was it any wonder why my heart conked out on me?

I already mentioned in Chapter Seven my annoying habit of eating an entire pizza in a sitting, with 1,360 Calories, 60 grams of fat, 2,840 milligrams of sodium, and 12 grams of sugar, sometimes adding extra cheese to bring it up to 1,520 Calories, 72 grams of fat, and 3,180 milligrams of sodium. This was also at the same time that I was having those English muffins with cheese and butter every morning for breakfast at work that I mentioned in Chapter Six.

So I was essentially existing on a diet of cheese, carbs, and salt. And where did the habit for that kind of diet come from?

I hate to do it, but I have to blame my mother. In the same way that smoking seemed normal to me growing up because she did it, I swear that she subsisted on a diet of cheese sandwiches. That was her go-to lunch late afternoons when she’d finished up the housework, and I remember many times when I was a little kid watching her at the kitchen table with the same thing: American cheese slices on Wonder Bread, which doesn’t really qualify for either word, with some Miracle Whip (not even real mayo) and mustard — French’s Yellow, which, I’m sorry, but in my opinion, is one of the worst tasting mustards I’ve ever experienced.

By the way, I only ever knew Miracle Whip growing up and did not experience real mayonnaise until I got to college, but as soon as I did… OMG, what a revelation. See, Miracle Whip has always been classified as a salad dressing and not mayo. It also has more sugar and carbs than real mayo, which has none of either and is lower in sodium. On the other hand, real mayo does have more Calories because it has more fat, so it’s a trade-off.

Did I mention that real mayo tastes a hell of a lot better than the abomination that is Miracle Whip?

But, as a kid, I loved the cheese sandwiches my mom would often put in my lunch and the grilled cheese sandwiches (swap mayo for margarine, but otherwise the same) she would make and the mac and cheese, made with longhorn Colby cheddar and a can of cream of mushroom soup. Both of those combined, even divided by the number of servings, were still ridiculously loaded down with sodium.

That’s the thing about soup — it is ridiculously high in sodium, almost without exception and, quite often, the “light” or “healthy” options are almost as bad. Here are just a couple of examples of Campbell’s brand soups. Their Healthy Request® Italian-Style Wedding Soup does only have 410 mgs of sodium per one cup serving, but switch to either the regular or light version, and suddenly you get 790 mgs. Their light creamy chicken Alfredo only has 100 mgs less sodium than the regular version, at 690 vs 790. The same is true for their New England clam chowder, but worse, with 790 and 890 mgs of sodium respectively for the light and regular versions.

“Vegetable medley” sounds like a perfectly healthy soup, right? Nope. It has the same 790 mgs of sodium per serving as some of the others, and that’s according to Campbell’s own nutritional info site. And don’t forget that a typical can of soup actually has two and a half servings in it. If you’re the type to ignore that information and just eat the whole can, you can find yourself on the receiving end of as much as 2,225 mgs in one meal — or in less than one meal, if you have a sandwich along with your soup.

By the way, I’m only picking on Campbell’s because they are one of the top brands in America, with four out of the top-ten selling soups in the market. In 2017, the company is projected to have over $7 billion in sales and gross profit of $3.06 billion. That’s a lot of soup. However, the tide may be turning there, with soup sales in the U.S. actually showing a decline beginning in 2009, and then very little growth after 2013. It’s not clear, though, whether the problem is the soup or the can itself, and Campbell’s has been moving away from metal containers to market two different lines: Campbell’s Go Soup, which comes in pouches, and Campbell’s Soup on the Go, which comes in a plastic container.

But don’t think that the packaging makes it healthier. The champion in this category for the Go Soups is coconut curry with chicken and shiitake mushrooms, weighing in at 830 mgs of sodium per serving — and the convenient pouch holds two servings. But, again, who’s going to split a container that seems designed to hold one serving?

At least both types of Soup on the Go are more reasonable, at only 410 mgs of sodium, and those containers are single-serving.

If I seem to be overwhelming you with math, it’s only because it’s something I’ve had to learn to live with and get used to. It’s not always possible to avoid absolutely everything in the grocery store that comes in a box or a can, but it is possible to make an informed decision. That’s why, for example, I only buy one particular kind of hamburger buns and one type of cheese. They are the lowest sodium brands available that I’ve been able to find in the regular store.

There are ways to go lower, but that gets heavily into “make it yourself from scratch” territory — although that isn’t a bad thing and I’ve gotten very used to it myself. Not that I’m going to start making no-salt cheese any time soon, but I have made re-fried beans, corn tortillas, and bread, as well as prepared horseradish, sweet and sour sauce, a soy sauce substitute, and both traditional and tofu-based tzatziki using no sodium at all, and they tasted just fine.

If you thought that everything in boxes and cans in grocery stores was bad, then stay out of restaurants. The sodium content in a lot of restaurant and fast food is outrageous. According to Pop Sugar, some of the most heinous examples include the Quizno’s turkey bacon guacamole sub, with 2,470 mgs of sodium; Dairy Queen’s 4-piece chicken strip basket at 2,530; Panera Bread’s bacon turkey bravo on tomato basil, with 2,290; Olive Garden’s Tour of Italy entrée at 3,830; IHOP’s country fried chicken steak and eggs with sausage gravy, 4,210; and Applebee’s chicken fajitas rollup, with 4,290.

However, the most staggering restaurant item is the Jersey Mike’s Buffalo chicken cheese steak, with a literally heart-rending 7,795 mgs of sodium per serving. For comparison, the most sodium-heavy item on the entire In-n-Out Burger menu is the double-double with cheese, at a mere 1,440 mgs of sodium. That’s less than one-fifth the amount found in the chicken cheese steak.

In 2017, the American Heart Association created a series of video spoofs awarding “MilliGrammy” awards to restaurant meals with high sodium content. Perhaps Jersey Mike’s didn’t quality in the national competition. After “accidentally” announcing the Big Mac Value Meal (970 mgs) as the winner, they corrected their La La Land-esque mistake and awarded the real winner, P.F. Chang’s Pad Thai, at 3,720 mgs.

* * *

Read an excerpt from Chapter Seven or Chapter Nine, or start at the Prologue.