I’m Not On a Diet-I’m Just Getting Healthier.

I wasn’t going to write about it, didn’t want to jinx it (kina hora.) But it feels like an accomplishment and I feel like celebrating it.

My weight and my blood sugar were creeping up and up. A couple of oral medications hadn’t corraled my hemoglobin A1c (a measure of glucose control over a three-month span) and nothing was helping me corral my BMI. So as my internist and I discussed various pharmaceutical approaches to issue number one, I told her I would like to see a nutritionist for issue number two. A few mouse clicks from Dr. W. and I had an electronic referral to the group’s Diabetes Educator.

That appointment was exactly two months ago. And would it be an exaggeration to say it was a life-changer? Meg the registered dietitian and I sat in her office and we talked. A little about life, a little about jobs, and then a little about how and what I ate. There were no aghast looks from her, no reprimands, not even an eye-roll as I cataloged my daily calorie intake. I didn’t need her to tell me that for a smart guy, I had picked up some dumb habits.

Meg made some suggestions. She thought I should get back on my original glucose medication, though perhaps at a different dosage. She encouraged frequent blood glucose testing, one thing I demurred on. As far as my eating behavior, she suggested cutting some portion sizes, giving up a treat or two, and trying to balance carbs with proteins. She gave me a suggested calorie count, passed on some manuals and sent me on my way. I gave the pamphlets a glance when I got home and then decided that it was time I flipped the switch and got healthy. But like with most things, although I would incorporate what Meg had said, I would do it my way.

So no, I am not on a diet. I’m not paleo’ing, or Mediteranian’ing, or ketogenic’ing. I eat at all hours of the day if I choose to. I take no issue with gluten or lactose or tree nuts and all are part of my daily routine. When someone asks “What can’t I eat anymore,” my answer is “I can eat anything.”

But the bagels have been replaced by flatbreads and sprouted grain English muffins (1/2 of one is the perfect portion size,) the handsful of pretzels substituted for by mixed nuts and fruits (hoping for a long cherry season,) and now, when Barb suggests splitting an entree at a restaurant, my eyes no longer beam death rays at her.

So here I am 61 days later, and 25 pounds lighter. The BMI calculator on my iPhone says I am still in the overweight zone, but not by much. I feel good, I am gearing up for tennis season and a couple of 5Ks, and cravings don’t seem to be a problem.

Can I keep it up? I’m not sure. And it will be another month before I need to check my hemoglobin A1c. But I think I can do it…kina hora.

Speaking of keeping healthy, I am still looking for sponsors for my 5K SEABlue Run for prostate cancer Support, Education, and Advocacy. Here’s the link!

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Another PSA for P.S.A.

I had a great time this past weekend. My high school buddies and I took our 16th annual baseball road trip. This year it was Philadelphia’s turn to survive our onslaught. The Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, miniature golf, batting cages, colonial outfits, and Philly Cheesesteaks were all on the menu, though I gave the last of those a pass. And it wouldn’t be a baseball trip if we didn’t spend one beautiful summer night watching the White Sox as they fell one run short to the Phillies.
Conversations followed the usual pattern. High school tales, some of which might be partially true, told and retold. “Top This” trivia contests about esoteric ballplayers from the 1960s and singers from the 1950s–yes “Seattle” WAS sung by Perry Como! Even a round of “Is this good for the Jews?” We discussed wives, kids, and grandkids and I was given tips on how to write without getting sued (the trip always has lawyers to the left of me, attorneys to the right.) We had a signature moment as one of our crew got stuck in the minivan, and almost a WWE type battle over who recorded “Haunted House” first, Gene Simmons or Sam the Sham.

Yeah, we had a blast. But through it all, I was the Debbie Downer. Someone mentioned 1960s TV star Bill Bixby and my comment was “He died of prostate cancer, get your PSA checked.” Listening to Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London, “He died of prostate cancer, get your PSA checked.”(note added 8/7/19–My mistake. Warren Zevon died of mesothelioma) Seeing a poster for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, “Frank Zappa. He died of prostate cancer, get your PSA checked.”

Too many of my friends and neighbors have been diagnosed, are being observed, or are being treated. I haven’t lost anyone close to me to prostate cancer since my dad passed away more than 25 years ago, but I know the terrible potential. And a ginormous new research study from Europe has confirmed that the PSA screening blood test for men SAVES LIVES. Early diagnosis works.

So to all my contemporaries, get tested. Even having the test performed just once has value. Ladies, tell your husbands, tell your brothers. Don’t let anyone dissuade you. Make it part of your annual physical. It matters.

I’ll be running in the SEA Blue Annual Prostate Run dedicated to Support, Advocacy, and Education for prostate cancer. To find out more and pledge your support visit the SEABlue website. All of you can–all of you must– help keep the men in your lives healthy.

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Alexa, Phish, and the Angry Earworm

You know what an earworm is. It’s that tune, that lyric, that harmony that runs through your mind, over and over and over again.

I have been accused of manufacturing earworms. I used to start each blog with a lyric or two from a popular song. Then one of my associates complained that after reading my posts she could never clear her mind of the song. Not wanting to put a barricade in her working day I stopped those lyrical openings.

A few days ago I received my delayed comeuppance. An earworm invaded my brain, nibbling away at the frontal cortex on the way to my memory centers. I was vaguely familiar with the song. The melody was bright in my mind, but the lyrics were a bit muddy–I couldn’t quite recall a single coherent line. I was convinced I could clear the earworm, if only I could remember the name of the song.

Although I knew that I had heard the song a few times on the radio, I was sure that it was not on my regular iPhone rotation. I doubted I had ever heard it on my self-curated Pandora station. There was just one clue that might help me identify the song. I had a vague certainty that the band performing the song was Phish.

I know almost nothing about Phish. I know they are a jam band with a following somewhat resembling the Grateful Dead (Phish Heads?) and that their lead singer sometimes performs with the remnants of the Dead. But have I ever heard any of their music? What made me convinced this fragment of a tune was their song? And how was that going to help me solve the mystery?

As usual, when stumped I turned to Google. I begged my brain to remember a few words from the lyrics. I Googled those lyrics along with “Phish.” No hits. I queried “Best Phish songs” but still no luck. I reviewed my Shazam history–nope, no record of a Phish song there. I even tweeted Lin Brehmer, morning tune-spinner at WXRT, begging for the name of the one Phish song I thought the station played. No response from him or his listeners.

And then–inspiration. Alexa. Lately, the old gal has been limited to responding to the granddaughters’ requests to play “Baby Shark.” But maybe she could help me. I asked her to play Phish songs.

“Shuffling Phish songs,” she replied.

The first few notes of a song I had never heard played.

“Next,” I requested. Another mishit.

“Next, next, next.”

Finally, on hearing the sixth or seventh song, “Eureka!”

The Phish tune was “Heavy Things.” A sense of relief, and the knowledge that my persistent earworm could be laid to rest. Only to be replaced by “Baby Shark.” That one will live in my head forever.

Missing politics? Here’s a link to last week’s blog: http://www.chicagonow.com/downsize-maybe/2019/07/democratic-letter/

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An Open Letter to the Leaders of My Party

To the Leaders and Presidential Candidates of the Democratic Party:

I have faithfully voted for every one of your Presidential Candidates from Georgia’s Jimmy Carter to Arkansas’ Hillary Clinton. I have one message for you.

Taxes, debt, and the growth curve are important, but they are not all that matters.

Russia, North Korea, and Iran are important, but they are not all that matters.

Women’s rights and abortion are important, but they are not all that matters.

Judges Garland, Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh are important, but they are not all that matters.

Racism and inequality of all kind are important, but they are not all that matters.

Squad members are important, but they are not all that matters.

Health care, Medicare and Big Pharma are important, but they are not all that matters.

Anti-Semitism and Israel are important, but they are not all that matters.

Climate change and the environment are important, but they are not all that matters.

Scientific progress and exploration are important, but they are not all that matters.

Immigration and asylum are important, but they are not all that matters.

Early education, college debt, and retraining programs are important, but they are not all that matters.

Safety nets and minimum wages are important, but they are not all that matters.

Capitalism, monopolies and personal privacy are important, but they are not all that matters.

All that matters is that you have 15 months to get together, bury your internecine hatchets, douse your egos, forget whose “turn” it is, give up what you each WANT to do and concentrate what you all NEED to do. On Tuesday, November 3, 2020, you MUST defeat Donald Trump.

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Bernard Arnault, Louis Vuitton, and Me

louis-vuitton-binder — That first Louis Vuitton Binder

The results are in and there is a significant change near the top. According to Forbes, while Jeff Bezos is still the richest person in the world ($124 BILLION) someone has passed Bill Gates ($102.9 BILLION) for the #2 spot. The second richest person in the world isn’t another technology baron or royalty of any kind. It’s not a mega-entertainer or mega-jock. It is Bernard Arnault!

Bernard Arnault? Um, have I been sleeping under a rock? Who the heck is Bernard Arnault and how dare the man be richer than Gates, or Warren Buffet or Mark Zuckerberg, or the feisty ole’ Queen of England?

The answer? Mr. Arnault is a businessman. To be precise he is Chairman and CEO of LVMH a French luxury goods conglomerate. That didn’t mean much to me until I realized that if we are talking French luxury goods LV must stand for Louis Vuitton. And I raised a toast to him–Moet and Chandon of course, the famous Champagne is another brick in the LVMH wall. Louis and I go back quite a way.

Like most kids growing up in the East Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago, I spent my youth blissfully ignorant of the brand. Maybe I recognized the trademarked logos of Gucci or Chanel, but the brown-tan pattern with the funky LV insignia was beyond me. If I had lived on campus during my years at Northwestern University I might have come across an east coast coed with a Louis evening bag, but alas I spent those years living with my parents and bagging groceries “at the Jewels.” No designer goods at either place!

Then came Medical School at the University of Illinois, Chicago with its enormous class of over 400 middle-class kids like me. And into this bluish-collar mix marched three young men who didn’t quite fit in. With a strut, silk shirts open to their navels and University of Michigan emblems on their backpacks, the Disco Boys had arrived. Arrived to learn to be doctors, just like the rest of us. Donna Summer was on the radio, the Hustle was the hit in New Town, and the Disco Boys were learning anatomy with me at Harrison and Polk.

And I had my exposure to true class. Dion, the shortest and swarthiest of the three, firmly grasped a binder with a brown-tan pattern. He seemed so proud, so I asked a classmate or two why that binder was so special. One of my more upscale dissection partners (Highland Park, perhaps?) filled me in on Louis Vuitton, the status and the cost. I was appropriately impressed.

And since then? Well, I have gotten to know the LV brand. Barb has owned…a few Louis bags. Some of them have been gifts from me, but never without careful instructions from the giftee on just what to buy from the company boutique in Northbrook Court. Knock-offs? Get behind me Satan! Even in Bangkok, Thailand, the knock-off capital of the world, we couldn’t find one that had the look or feel of the real thing.

As a salute to her favorite brand Barb is even working on a new needlepoint with an LV bag jostling on the canvas with gift bags from Hermes, Tiffany’s and the like. We have a perfect to hang the finished product–our Louis will always be within sight.

So Mr. Arnault, thank you and your company for keeping the Louis name alive and available. You never know when I might need to go out and buy Barb a special gift. And next time I might not even ask her advice! And maybe I can use a new binder…

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Monday Hyundai. Is This How the Week Will Go?

I know it’s Monday, but still…

I bought my last car in Naperville. That’s a long way from home, but only about a 20-minute drive from the lab. Even that drive can get extended during rush hour. So it is a nice feature that as long as I schedule my routine service far enough in advance, the dealership will send a car jockey to the lab with a loaner to leave for me. The service jockey then drives my car to Naperville for the work. The system works well, and I have never actually had to drive back to the dealership since I purchased the car 18 months ago. It’s a good deal.

Two weeks ago my cars dashboard warning let me know an oil change was due as I approached 40,000 miles. I called the service department, let them know I wanted the car pick up service and arranged an appointment for today. I parked at the lab, cleared all my paraphernalia (tollway e-pass, sunglasses, book on CD) from the car and waited for the car exchange.

Fifteen minutes before the designated time my phone rang, an unknown caller showing up on the display. Acting on instinct (I usually don’t answer the phone for unknown numbers) I picked up, only to have a scratchy voice on a poor quality phone ask for Jeff. “You’ve got the wrong number,” I told the caller. He seemed a bit perturbed but hung up. Moments later the phone rang again, the same number on the display. I answered (Why? you ask.) and said hello. This time the caller hung up.

Eventually, the lab doorbell rang and I heard a very confused man trying to find someone, although he didn’t seem to know who he was looking for. A hunch told me this was my pick-up man. Sure enough, when I came out to check, he was waving a clipboard with the dealership name on it. I introduced myself and told him it was my car he was here to pick up.

“You’re hard to find,” he said. “I called the number they gave me from the dealership, but it was the wrong number.”

He waved a piece of paper in my face upon which a phone number was written. Yes, it was my correct phone number, and of course, this was my unknown caller.

“That is my number, but when you called, you asked for Jeff!”

“Oh, that’s my name. I guess I got confused.”

Anyway, I signed three or four documents, gave him the key to my car, and took the keys he gave me. The loaner was a sharp looking car, this year’s version of the same model as my own car. As mine was driven away, I popped into the loaner to pull it into the deserted parking spot. I pushed the Start button, but the engine didn’t turn over. A message came on the dash, telling me the remote control had failed and I should hold the key against the “designated spot.”

I pulled the key ring the car jockey had given me out of my pocket. The first thing I noticed was the Mariano’s loyalty tag on the ring. Next to it was what looked like a house key. “That’s strange.” I thought. Finally, I saw the Hyundai insignia on the key fob. Neither my car nor the loaner is a Hyundai. Yup, the somewhat addled car jock had given me the key to his own car, as well as his home.

When I called and explained the situation to the service scheduler at the dealership she didn’t miss a beat. “Was it an older, confused looking, white guy named Jeff?” she asked. I’m guessing this wasn’t the first time she has dealt with a situation like this.

She must have gotten a hold of Jeff quickly because within 20 minutes he was back with the keys for the loaner. No harm, no foul.

But still, it’s only Monday. It’s gonna be a long week!
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Neil Diamond on Broadway. Will We See You There?

Yes, there will be Neil in New York City. But he won’t be there himself. He won’t follow Bruce’s footsteps and perform a long run of concerts in a Broadway theater. And he won’t be doing a regular gig at Madison Square Garden ala Billy Joel. But just as Jersey Boys celebrates the Four Seasons and Beautiful illuminates the wonderous Carole King, Rolling Stone reports that the time has come for a Broadway-bound jukebox bioplay of the life and times of Neil Diamond.

Big names have signed on to the proposed production. Anthony McCarten, who crafted the screenplay for Bohemian Rhapsody will write the show, while Michael Mayer (no, that’s not Mike Meyers) will direct. His credits include American Idiot and Spring Awakening, so he knows his way around a musical. And of course, the music will be Neil’s own tunes. No one has been cast for the lead role just yet and the opus has no title.

But guys and gals, I have to tell you, Barb and I are way out in front of the professionals on this one. We have been planning on writing and producing Neil’s story for years! It’s all mapped out and ready to go.

Act One–The Man in Black:

Scene 1: Growing up in New York City (Brooklyn Roads)

Scene 2: The Early Bang Years (Shilo, Solitary Man, I’m a Believer)

Scene 3: Hitsville (Holly Holy, Sweet Caroline, Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show)

Act Two–Hollywood Calling

Scene 1: Jonathan Soaring (Skybird, Lonely Looking Sky, Be)

Scene 2: Lenny Crashing (I Am…I Said)

Scene 3: A Fish Out of Water (Dry Your Eyes)

Scene 3: Jesse Robin Rising (Kol Nidre, Love on the Rocks, America)

Act Three–Glitz and Glitter

Scene 1: Song-writer or Super Star? (Yesterday’s Songs, Heartlight, Headed for the Future)

Scene 2: New Directions ( White Christmas, Home Before Dark, Pretty Amazing Grace)

Scene 3: One Last Hot August Night (Cherry Cherry, Kentucky Woman, Cracklin Rosie, You Don’t Bring Me Flowers, America (reprise)

Curtain Call–Sweet Caroline

OK, Mr. McCarten will have to fill in some characters and write some dialogue. But that should be easy for a pro like him.

Now let’s talk about the casting. Most of the roles, such as Neil’s family, his various wives and lovers, the multitude of agents, musicians and producers, can be filled by the usual Broadway featured artists, the ones who win all the Tonys, but whom no one in Middle America has heard of.

But what about the lead, you ask? To star as Neil, we need someone who can play of span of ages, has acting chops and can belt out a tune. With a little help from the Wardrobe and Make-Up Departments, I can see Nick Jonas doing the deed. He might even pull in some fans who have never heard of our beloved Neil but know the Jonas Brothers and Priyanka Chopra. Hey Nick, can you transition from Disney to Les Misérables to Diamond all before the age of 30?

So do we have a name for this proud piece of pop? Of course we do. With apologies to Ian Fleming, James Bond and DeBeers, just get us front row tickets to This Diamond is Forever whenever the show opens on Broadway. We’ll be there.
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Did a Vegetarian Diet Cure a Prostate Cancer? I Need More Evidence.

prostate-cancer-low-and-high-grade — Microscopic appearance of less (left) and more (right) prostate cancer.

“I went on a vegetarian diet and my prostate cancer is gone!”

That was the Facebook post in a prostate cancer support group I occasionally follow. My immediate thought? Sorry, but I disagree with you. Based on the evidence you posted with that click-baity headline, I don’t think there has been a miracle cure. You posted pictures of a lab order with a diagnosis of prostate cancer. And you followed up with a picture of a pathology report (something I know a bit about) of a set of prostate biopsies from 15 months later indicating no malignancy was found. I am happy for you, I really am, but it doesn’t mean your eating habits have cured you, or that going on a vegan diet will cure other people.

A bit of background on prostate cancer. Back in the “good old days” prostate cancer was diagnosed by your internist with a good old rectal exam, or when you were being evaluated for symptoms such as an abnormal bone fracture. Most likely those were aggressive cancers, with growth often stimulated by the male hormone testosterone. Treatment consisted of surgery, or radiation, or using medicine to block the testosterone effect, or surgical removal of the source of that hormone — yes, you know what that means.

Since the advent of the PSA (prostate-specific antigen) blood test era in the 1990s (I am a believer) more prostate confined, less aggressive tumors are being identified. And based on the patient’s age, medical status, and some “under the microscope” considerations, many men with these tumors are being offered active surveillance – no current treatment, but regular PSA check-ups and repeat biopsies every year or two. If repeat biopsies show a more angry looking tumor, treatment can be considered.

And if the repeat biopsies are negative? Does that mean cure? Nope. Prostate biopsies sample only a small fraction of the prostate gland. And repeat biopsies are never in exactly the same location as the previous biopsies. So a small tumor that was sampled on the first go-round might not be in the path of the biopsy needle 15 months later. It doesn’t mean the tumor has gone away, though the tumor most likely hasn’t significantly grown. Of course, that is great news for any patient, but it isn’t the same as a cure. Surveillance is still necessary.

Is your vegan diet good for you? Sure, there are health benefits. And perhaps removing meat from your diet has removed some factors that might stimulate tumor growth. So I would never tell you to give it up. But I believe that a vegan diet cures cancer as much as I believe another post I read on Facebook that day–the one that says a sixteen year old has invented a perfect test for cancer diagnosis. But that’s a story for another day!

The above is the opinion of the author and not UroPartners LLC.

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Cryptocurrency Is Just the Beginning! Facebook’s 10 Year Plan Revealed Here.

The word is out. Facebook, the King of All Social Media, is getting ready to create its own currency. In association with a crop of financial institutions, Mr. Z and company will generate Libra, a new digital monetary system. I admit I don’t understand the whole Bitcoin-blockchain-cryptocurrency thing. All I know is that someday we won’t use much real cash – heck, I hardly use any now. But I’m not surprised that the Facebook boys have it all figured out. There will probably be pushback from some governments or watchdog groups but no worries. In a year or two, your Libras will be as good as gold.

And that’s just this year’s plan. Using my secret contacts within Facebook headquarters in Menlo Park, CA I have been able to dig up the projects that make up Facebook’s Ten Year Plan. By 2029 Facebook plans to be doing a lot! A brief look:

2019: Libra – Facebook creates cryptocurrency.
2020: Hydra – Facebook to provides global desalinization of the world’s oceans.
2021: Taurus – Facebook to take total control of the world’s meat industry.
2022: Virgo – Facebook to dominate world-wide population planning.
2023: Goooooal! – Facebook to own every professional sports franchise in the world.
2024: Cyclops – Facebook to become the world’s sole of visual entertainment.
2025: Gaggle – Facebook to drive Google, its one remaining competitor, into bankruptcy.
2026: Justice -The Facebook users agreement to replace the US Constitution as the cornerstone of American democracy.
2027: Gargoyle -Facebook to get really scary. I am unable to obtain further information on this one.
2028: Aries – Facebook to declare war on any countries not already under its control.
2029: Atlas– Mr. Zuckerberg proclaims himself King Of the World. No one complains.

Can they do it in 10 years? It won’t be easy but if not Facebook, then who?

Oh, if I happen to disappear, maybe they didn’t like my giving away their plans…

Want to read an earlier blog from this week? Click here!
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A Two-Year Old Anti-Trump Blog Was My Most Popular Ever. What Else was in the Top Ten?

four-fathers-for-four-years — Four Fathers for Four Years

This month marks four years of my online blogging. What started as “Downsize, Maybe,” a chronicle of Barb and I building our empty-nester home, morphed and metamorphosized in ‘Getting More from Les,” — topically diffuse, told with different voices, but always with the goal of having at least one reader say “yeah, I get that.” With over 350 posts and 175000 words, I could have written two average novels (that’s average in length, not necessarily in content.) But for immediate feedback, there is little that beats blogging.

When people ask what my favorite post is, I usually say that it is the most recent one, whichever that is. The newest baby is always the freshest, the one with the labor pains foremost in memory. All very subjective. But as to which posts have been most widely read, there is factual and objective evidence via Google Analytics, a program that tracks every hit on the blog site. I may not know who is reading the blog, but I can tell what they are reading.

So looking back over the last four years, here are the ten blogs with the highest readership:

10. Would We Still Want to be on Family Feud? We never got the call, but we KNOW we would have won.

9. Seven Words Pathologists Should Never Use A reaction against a surprising story from the CDC.

8. Woodman’s Market. This Wisconsin Invader is Worth a Visit. An unsolicited glowing review of Woodman’s Market. I still shop there.

7. A Middle of the Road Democrat’s Letter to Presiden-Elect Trump. Some pre-inauguration requests from a more naive me.

6. Is Curiosity Worth Losing a Job Over? Lessons from the Jessie (sic) Smollett Affair. A look at how some Northwestern Medical Center employees fared worse than Jussie Smollett.

5. Trump News Conference: Both Sides Responsible for Solar Eclipse. You never know what he will say next!

4. Is Terry Boer’s Autobiography the Bore of a Lifetime? My zombie book review. It keeps rising from the dead.

3. An Open Letter to Doug Parker, CEO of American Airlines. Yes I grumbled over having to spend a night in Detroit instead of Miami.

2. Carson’s Department Stores are Closing for Good and I Care. Do You? Reminiscing over a lifetime with a Chicago icon.

And at #1 on the hit parade, by a wide, wide margin. This post didn’t quite go viral, but it at least went bacterial.

1. It is Time to Repeal and Replace Donald Trump. My feelings during the health care legislation situation. Who thinks my feelings have changed since?

So that, in a nutshell are the highlights of the last four years. I don’t know what’s ahead for the next four years, but I promise to keep writing and do my best. Thanks to all the loyal readers. Keep those cards and letters coming!

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