Days 13-14: Fiesta and Failure

Weight: 195.7

Since our Whidbey Island friends got sick and couldn't join us as planned this evening, I didn't feel right drinking the hard cider we made from last week. So, I had a few beers, including one at a great little Seattle spot next to the Moore Theater called Nitelite. PBR for two bucks couldn't be beat. Sorry for the cheat, but there was an important occasion: the music of Calexico. Pictured is my dear wife waiting in downstairs in the Moore Theater for the superb music of a band we've been following for a decade. The first time I saw them, tickets were eight bucks and beer was four. On Friday night the beer was two bucks and the show was 20.

Twenty plus an obscene online charge of $9 plus a 2 dollar "venue surcharge." What the heck? So I couldn't bring myself to pay for these tickets, even though they are our favorite act that still regularly performs (followed closely by Wovenhand and Slim Cessna's Auto Club). In any case, at the last minute, we found a mutual gift giving situation unfold. A craigslister offered the tickets "free-ish" and said they would leave four tickets in the mailbox and then whoever picked them up could put in any money they wished. Since we can't sell our house in Colorado in this market, this was a great turn of fortune. So, we picked up the tickets, paid face value for the pair, and tried to "evangelize" some friends into Calexico fandom by giving them the other two. I think they had a good time and experienced a great show.

The next day, I went in to a work meeting from 9 to five. During that time I became famished and worried that I was getting too weak. So, at lunch, I fell off the wagon and had lunch. It was a very healthy veggie wrap--so the primary change in diet was the carbs in the wrap itself. After falling, I figured I might as well take advantage of my failure, so I had another wrap. They were pretty small and lacked much protein, but they restored my energy somewhat.

So perhaps you will forgive me. But you will likely not forgive the sins that followed. One pint of Guinness with colleagues (note that I think stouts got their start by monks who used the thick beers as a bread substitute while "fasting") and then the left over fish and chips from my kids who were taking advantage of a 70th anniversary deal from Ivars, a superb local eatery. Anyway, it wasn't anywhere near what I would have consumed under normal circumstances. Indeed, I would have probably found the meal deal they got unfulfilling a month ago. But now, I feel guilty for gobbling up their scraps. They would have gone into the trash, and I am not in this for some silly rule but for self discovery. Here is what I discovered: it is well nigh impossible to stay strong without serious carbs and protein. The fruits and greens I've been eating are, allegedly, able to give some of this, but the immediate limitations of this diet are now apparent. Perhaps it is a matter of the will but I, with all the lush vegetation around me, find this diet terribly inadequate. The fish I eat on occasion is good, but I need their flesh more regularly than I expected. Had I some potatoes, I think I could get by without any fish, but as it is, I find myself fixated on the idea of my next loaf of bread. Meanwhile, despite my hunger, I've not lost much weight. Perhaps it is because of the high sugar content of the fruit. Who knows? When my family came home from the store today they found me in the back yard, picking the wild strawberries festooning the untamed parts of the yard. I probably looked little different in terms of weight or energy, but inside I was thinking how I couldn't last long, even with today's cheats and with a handful of fruit that I neither planted nor tended. I learned today another lesson brought home by a conversation with my brother: you can be a hunter and gatherer, or a guy who works at some institution, but it is pretty hard to do both. I am pretty sure that, at least during this time of year, I could spend my days finding food. But I can't do that AND strategize, research, prepare, and spend time with the sons. Hm.

So daily existence has become more acutely valuable to me, knowing the value and the work involved in each morsel of food. And so has music, I could almost see the music from Friday night as waves of light. My psychology colleague tells me this isn't entirely unique. It wasn't hallucination, but this sense of "seeing" the music was a kind of ethereal food. I will not forget this weekend's music, and the song "Guero Canelo" is still resonating through my bones.