Sense & Sensitivity

Recently and suddenly, I believe that I’ve developed superhuman powers. No, that’s not completely right. I believe that I’ve developed sub-superhuman powers, or even super-subhuman powers. Before you write me off as a bragger, let me clarify. Super-subhuman powers are really nothing special. In fact, they’re something of a curse.

My super-subhuman power? Oversensitivity. For example, I’ve begun to notice the subtle differences between, ummm, toiletries. A few years back, I couldn’t tell you the difference between cotton swabs. Suddenly? I can tell you why Johnson swabs are inferior to (branded) Q-Tips, and why generic “Q-Tips” won’t fly at all. I can tell you the difference between public and well water. I can tell you the difference between Listerine and Scope (for the blue-colored ones).

Seeing these newly-found gifts, I cannot say why I’ve been the lucky recipient. I mean, geez, life used to be so much easier before I would boycott a retailer who wouldn’t sell a certain type of cotton swabs, or before I’d spend the day feeling pissed off and/or oily-skinned, due to a certain type of shampoo or soap.

Now, this new sensitivity — again — has no perks. I cannot run any faster. I cannot fly, or leave the ground (without crashing down square on my face) in any way. I cannot squint and either see through your clothes, or burn a hole in your body. I cannot squeeze my 220-pound frame into a spandex outfit, and I think that “Seinfeld” already covered the business about capes being unfashionable. I cannot and will not work pro bono. I’m not Ben Affleck. And I’m not avenging the death of a friend or family member, so I have no reason to put myself in harm’s way. In other words?

As a superhero, a man of sense, sensitivity, and subsupernatural powers, I’m totally useless. Not that I have a problem with self-confidence, but… “Dammit, Jim… I’m a UNIX hacker; not a crimefighter!”

Haste Makes Waist

It’s been awhile since I’ve written, I know. Other stuff — loads of it — has been going on. I’ve been working on a new book. The homestead is keeping my hands full. Family members came to visit during the holidays. There’s been no shortage of weekend work. I’ve been working on a (new) dating relationship, albeit slowly. Not to complain, tho. Most of this stuff is good. Well, weekend work can stroke me, but other than that, I’m emerging from my funk.

One of the defunkers has to be the weight loss plan that I’ve been on. Post-Christmas (2002), my mother sent me some pictures of our family gathering from the holidays. Lo and behold? I’d become a major fat ass. I looked not unlike that Chinese girl from Devo’s “Whip It” video. My eyes were nearly smushed closed with fat. This was upsetting for at least two reasons: (1) I’m not Chinese, and (2) if I ever starred in a sitcom, I was screaming “typecast!” with each and every pound. Bad. Very, very bad!

Now, I have nothing against people who are overweight. I just can’t stand myself when I am obese. I mean, in general, I don’t exactly look in the mirror and cheer. So, when I’m overweight, I feel like I deserve to be heckled in the middle of Fenway Park. When I was younger, I lost a lot of weight, but in my late-20’s and early-30’s, my work was lost, and things got out of control. Actually, I think that my ability to metabolize changed, and doing ass-planting things like writing books didn’t help, either. And fast food? It’s a killer! So? 40 extra pounds found their way to my frame in less than 2 years!

Between the Christmas pictures, and comments like “dude, you could be an offensive lineman… a big, Indian offensive lineman! Why not try out for the (New England) Patriots?”, I was more than certain that I’d brought these things on myself. So, in order, I started working the following out of my routine:
1. Sugary soda. Yeah, I used to love getting amped on Mountain Dew. But, seriously, within a month of stopping my 2-can/day habit, I started to shed pounds like crazy.
2. Snacking. I freakin’ love snacks, cashews and salty-others, in particular. But I just can’t do it more than 1 day per week anymore.
3. Take out. McDonald’s is crap. Seriously, I could eat 6 cheeseburgers, a super-sized fries, and a super-sized soda, and I’d still need to eat a bowl of cereal or two to fill up. This wasn’t good, and was probably a large contributor to why I’d get winded after climbing a flight of stairs. I’m 31; that’s a scary proposition!
4. Carbs. Keepin’ ‘em low.
5. Bachelor’s diet? Coming to an end. I’ve been eating some form of salad almost every night now. Lettuce and stuff are kind of bogus, but whatever. It has been making me feel better, and my stomach is more tolerant when I sin (by filling it with crap) once per week.

Oh, and I also got a scale. Previously? I’d been missing one of those. So, I’d have to guage my weight by the tightness of my pants. Hardly an accurate form of measure, in particular when your pants loosen up after you’ve torn the seams!

I Just Don’t Credit!

I have a problem with consumer credit reporting. And the thing is? I can’t think of a better alternative to firms like Experian (formerly TRW). You see, there’s a “book” on everyone’s credit. That, in and of itself, isn’t the problem. The problem is that while there’s a book, there’s really no (direct) control we have over it. And worse, the information “owned” by credit reporting agencies is considered to be “unofficial”, in that it’s disclaimed as being an authoritative source of information about you. Don’t know what I mean?

You go to a department store, and ask for store credit, and they turn you down. A few months later, you receive a (letter stating) a reason via U.S. Mail. Experian or Trans Union are listed as the reporting agency; yet, there’s a disclaimer that explains that the decisions were made based upon reports obtained from The Agency. But the problem? The agencies themselves disclaim their own information by claiming that the information holds no bearing on anyone’s decisions based on their reports.

This is somewhat understandable, but there are two fundamental problems with this:
1. There’s a book of information on us, yet we have to pay to read it, unless we’re declined for credit (which is added to our credit records, if I recall), and then we get this information for free.
2. Given that this information, in general, is something that we pay for, why are we burdened with having to live with incorrect items on our credit reports, without true recourse — to have our records repaired until 7-years have passed?

Of course, the alternative to (private) credit reporting agencies is… government credit reporting agencies. And I don’t even want to think about the government controlling a bunch of credit scores, or any other information than they probably already have. And yes, my credit is fine. I just don’t like the current implementation of credit reporting and scoring.