I’m off to Texas for my forty-fifth high school reunion in Odessa and to see my old friend Mel in Midland. My doctor has refused to staple my mouth shut against the possibility of 1) my saying something that would get me shot or 2) my losing all self control and eating as much as I could of chicken-fried steak, Tex-Mex cuisine, chili dogs, barbecue, fried chicken livers, and other Texas delights like the one invented a few years ago in Austin where they take a medium-size bag of Fritos® (serves 6), dump a hot can of Wolf Brand® chili (serves 3) into it, and hand the bag to you along with a spoon. Once all that chili’s in there, it serves only one. Well, there might be enough for two, but it’s a cultural thing: two Texans can’t eat out of the same bag…not peacefully.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned that while life as a galley slave at the gym is turning out to be easy, I’m still at the concept level on life as a starved-for-its-own-good lab rat. To solve this problem I now have a new diet. Actually, I invented it. The Everything-You-Want Diet: If it tastes good, it’s forbidden. Spit it out.

All of it.

Otherwise, you can eat everything you want.

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