Old age is nigh

One day you wake up and the sentence, “I’m sure glad my wife bought whole wheat hot dog buns” makes perfect sense. A few years back, heck, just a couple of months back, I would have rejected the concept of a whole wheat sheath for the world’s most popular mystery meat. Who REALLY prefers the taste of whole wheat to white? It just doesn’t happen. It’s like preferring ANYTHING diet to the regular ‘ole sugared, greased lightning version. It’s like selling your soul to decaf.

This is the indignity of dieting, of “eating right.” You find yourself stooped over the meat drawer trying to spy the calories in a Ball Park Frankfurter (Frank to his friends).