Susan's Scribblings the Blog

A writer from the Philadelphia area shares the week online.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog
  • Who the Heck is Kayewer?
  • Author Archives: kayewer

    • Yodels, Ho Ho’s and Lip Smackin’

      Posted at 1:01 am by kayewer, on February 22, 2009

      It’s strange to go to the junk food aisle and see two similar products from the same company.  Drake’s Yodels and Hostess Ho Ho’s are both products of Interstate Bakeries Corporation, but no two rolled up creamy chocolate enrobed cakes are the same, which is why both products wind up on the same shelf in the store.  Snack cakes apparently are as polarizing to society as religion, so neither product can be discontinued without causing an uprising.

      I am a Yodel fan, and I realized that the reason for my loyalty must lie in the added calorie content compared to the Ho Ho’s.  There is no getting around the tastiness of the stuff, even if it winds up in my midsection.  I’ve tried the Ho Ho’s and they just don’t fulfill that sweet need.  I find Ho Ho’s to be blander than Yodels, but the dieter in me likes the individual servings offered by the competition compared to the Yodel two-pack.  Has anybody ever actually gotten away with folding up and stowing that second Yodel back in the box?  I can’t do it.

      There is also a difference in the ritualistic peeling away of the chocolate enrobing:  points come off the Ho Ho’s for the tendency to come off in chips while the Yodel’s sheathe  slides away in a curlicue of delectable delight that can be saved for after the cake is gone.

      I know that dieting is not supposed to include such guilty pleasures, but I find it hard to deny those temptations that come in my human wiring.  The occasional Yodel is a must.  If I need a fix and the Drake’s cake aisle is lacking, I’d settle for a Ho Ho just to keep me jolly (in attitude, not in weight).

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    • The Anti-Valentine’s Day Post

      Posted at 12:39 am by kayewer, on February 15, 2009

      Eh, so it’s Valentine’s Day.  Yes I’m one of those eternally single people who spend this day alone as always, but really I don’t want to carp too much about it.  After all, this is supposed to be a day for love in all forms, not just pairs in the throes of passion (or just “in like” with one another).

      However, I look at all these high profile consumeristic holidays and wonder why we do this to ourselves:  hanker for things we don’t need and spend too much money on (the flowers and candy and private hotel rooms with champagne glass shaped bathtubs), yearn for it when we can’t get it (out of candy and the rooms are all booked, and boy will my honey be teed off about it) and get depressed when it doesn’t seem to extend to us (all the Charlie Browns out there are sighing right now).  When majority rules, the minority can’t just leave the planet while they all celebrate, so where do we all go while the others are cavorting around?  In my household it’s called Homeside Park, where the food is reasonably priced and guaranteed to please and the bed is comfortable and hasn’t been slept in by 50 million strangers before.  So the tub is round:  I’ve got bubble bath.

      I have some wonderful people in my life, including a circle of friends, my family and God.  Nothing would be nicer, though, than to have a nice warm hug or some pleasant words from a stranger, if only to acknowledge that I was seen as an existing member of this planet, and nobody passed out as a result of viewing my visage.  I guess I’m feeling a bit dejected because yesterday a baby turned away from me in disgust but giggled gleefully at the office manager who warned the tike’s mom “I tend to make babies cry.”  Go figure babies these days.  Unpredictable.

      Let’s face it:  some things are just because they are, and there is not much that can be done about it.  So I’ll spend another Valentine’s Day alone, but not exactly lonely.  I mentioned in an earlier post that my avatar in Second Life gets hit on while its owner doesn’t, so I’ll just log in there and have some fun by proxy.  By tomorrow this holiday too will all be over and I can look forward to Easter, which has the same overpriced candy but less of the emotional baggage.

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    • HFCS: The Enemy of the Market

      Posted at 11:56 pm by kayewer, on February 7, 2009

      High fructose corn syrup:  more deadly than nuclear war, more insidious than a Dark Lord of the Sith and the blood supply of every grocery chain CEO vampire in the world.

      If you haven’t been reading about all the funky gunk inside our food, you’ve either been chowing down on chips and couldn’t hear the television, or you’re in denial.  HFCS and the digital television conversion are both life changing things, but the latter will just affect your TV viewing while the former can kill you.

      HFCS, for all intents and purposes, is a sugar product designed to make foods taste irresistable.  Studies are linking it to obesity, and it isn’t surprising since it appears in your ketchup bottle, your orange juice, your diet soda and even in some things you normally wouldn’t put suger in, such as soup.  Seriously, would you drop a spoonful of sugar into your soup?

      Sugar and salt have a common effect:  as you consume it, you find the need to consume more of it as its ability to stimulate your taste wears off.  Think of the cigarette habit:  people start at one or two and move up to a pack a day.  Alcoholism makes drinkers up their intake.  So it is with these two partners in seasoning or sweetening.

      I went cold turkey on salt once, and it took about 48 hours for foods to start tasting good again, but I can tell you that I actually tasted the salt naturally present in the food after I stopped shooping the table salt on everything.  The same thing can happen with sugar:  cutting back or out can affect the taste of foods for a bit, but then your body adjusts and sugar in its natural form can be tasted more readily.

      I don’t know how difficult it may be to lessen the amount of HFCS in my grocery shopping, but I’m taking a shot at it.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

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    • The British are Groaning

      Posted at 12:54 am by kayewer, on February 1, 2009

      I was unsure which part of the British invasion to talk about this week:  the decision in Britain to drop the use of apostrophes on street signs, or the total ignoramus on ABC’s latest installment of Wife Swap whose rhetoric curdled the milk in my tea.  Then I decided that either way the poor Brits, for whom I do have a high degree of respect, didn’t need my spleen-venting at all to feel bad this week in light of both of these disasters.

      First, just because people have issues about where apostrophes go in grammar usage, why remove them?  Can’t we just get along with them and fix them when they’re put in the wrong place?  We need tolerance, not grammatical exile.

      Second, just because a Brit becomes a US citizen doesn’t mean he can’t appear on television and totally alienate the whole country if not his family and friends if he wants to.

      I’ve never been to England (I will confess that the snobby Brit is right in that I am one of those Americans who have no passport), but I thank God for the knowledge that 99% of Brits are not like that fellow (everybody like Jo Frost on Supernanny makes up for those like him any day).

      Britain gave us Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee and Hammer Films.  Britain gave us a monarch any country can admire (she’s still at it and going strong).  They gave us Dr. Who and Monty Python, Dickens’ “Christmas Carol” (note that I got the apostrophe right) and another definition of the word “bangers.”  What’s right about Britain far eclipses anything wrong.

      So I won’t go off on these matters any longer.  Pass the clotted cream.

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      Posted in Commentary | 0 Comments | Tagged apostrophe, wife swap brit
    • What’s In a Name?

      Posted at 12:47 am by kayewer, on January 25, 2009

      While I was on vacation I noticed something about the morning news programs.  Everybody calls everybody else by name constantly.  “Back to you, Rita.”  “Thank  you, Fred:  I’m here with Ethel and Lucy to talk about back scratchers for under ten bucks. . . .back to you in the studio, Bart.”

      The last time I saw names used so much was when I was reading comic books, and then it was just to enforce in young readers the fact that everybody knew who everybody else was.  Do we really need that in our news programming?  Are viewers so dense that they can’t remember the names of the same half dozen people they see each morning?

      The only time I pay attention to the name game is when somebody new is filling in, such as when Anderson Cooper sat in for Regis Philbin on the “Live” show:  the announcer then moved co-host Kelly Ripa to the front of the roster because she was the one half of the pair actually onstage that morning.  It was jarring to hear that deviation from the norm.

      On “60 Minutes,” only Andy Rooney doesn’t appear onscreen to introduce himself to the viewer:  usually the last person onscreen gets the distinction of saying “Those stories, and Andy Rooney,” as if the poor fellow doesn’t get a headshot privilege.  Why not?

      Human beings often have a love/hate relationship with names.  We only want to hear our own names when something good is coming such as a promotion or something.  Mispronounce a name and watch people’s faces screw up in disgust.  Speak the names of some famous or infamous folks and get tons of reactions all around.

      I read recently that a family named their child Adolf Hitler (I don’t recall the last name), and apparently a store refused to place the moniker on a birthday cake.  I like seeing my name on a cake, preferably chocolate.  Since nobody normally prepares a birthday cake for the real Adolf Hitler, maybe the store was just trying to avoid a trend.

      Back to you, Katie.

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    • The Problem with Human Beings

      Posted at 1:42 am by kayewer, on January 18, 2009

      So much attention is being given to the fact that Barack Obama is the first Black/African American to be elected President.  That’s a milestone.  However, we are still a backward species in that we have to note the fact that Barack Obama is the first anything to be elected.  Any human being with the credentials and drive should be eligible to be elected, and if we were a few steps above the other primates, we wouldn’t have to bat an eye about it.

      Barack Obama is also the first person with a first name beginning with the letter “B” to be elected President, as well as the first with a last name starting with “O.”  Nobody mentions that.  Instead we bring up the history of America being built on slave labor brought over from across the Atlantic and so forth, and make this election a microscopic examination of how somebody with darker skin behaves when endowed with a world leader title.  I’m sure he’ll do just fine.

      He will make speeches, come up with policies, sign bills, go on walks with the First Pet (which I think should be a Labradoodle, thereby making it the first such pet in the White House), shake hands with other world leaders and address large bodies of officials about issues vital to worldly life on planet Earth.

      He will also face challenges both familiar and new.  And yes, he will probably make a false move here and there.  We all do that, and his heritage will not make him more or less immune or susceptible to any of it.  He will be our new President, and we will call him Mr. President or Commander in Chief:  one lady will call him husband and two little girls will call him Dad.

      Once the Obama term ends, firsts of anything in that most honored seat of our nation will seem ordinary:  even the idea of a Mrs. President.

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      Posted in Commentary | 0 Comments | Tagged Obama
    • The Biggest Loser: The Viewers

      Posted at 1:50 am by kayewer, on January 11, 2009

      I took two hours of my time to watch The Biggest Loser on NBC Tuesday night.  It featured some true record setters, including a hefty elderly couple and the heaviest man to weigh in at 454 pounds.  Their goal is to endure weeks of diet and exercise and abuse at the hands of two merciless trainers to lose the most weight and, therefore, be crowned Biggest Loser and win the show (and, supposedly, their lives back).

      Working in a call center as I do, I have seen some ponderously disproportioned people who are stuck in cubicles all day and don’t have the benefit of diet and fitness gurus to help them overcome the problems associated with the current American lifestyle.  The folks on this show would have made P. T. Barnum a fortune if he could have assembled so many overweight people under a tent instead of a training camp.

      What really shocked me was how little the show tackled diet issues and the fact that nobody was seen actually eating anything.  During one close-up shot of somebody who worked out to the point of throwing up I noticed, apart from being grossed out by the fact that I was paying attention to this, that they appeared to be puking nothing but water.

      Is this it, then?  Do these contestants do nothing but drink water and subject their weight to such drastically insane calisthenics that it drops off in fear or heaves itself out in vomit?  I would hate to think that viewers can’t get decent diet advice from the show.

      Maybe there isn’t any good diet advice to be had.  I wonder if the food industry isn’t so far gone that we will never be able to eat pure decent food again.   Maybe the exercisers are in cahoots with the food industry to try and kill us all.  Think about it:  how many famous exercise icons have dropped dead while exercising?  A few like Jack LaLanne have push-ups for breakfast and live to be 110 with minus two percent body fat, but the rest of us have to eat.

      Last blog I complained about the choices available for breakfast, but the day after watching The Biggest Loser, sitting at lunch with a cup of 80 calorie yogurt, crudite, grapes and hot tea (with a thermos of water on standby), I didn’t feel that I had learned anything useful from the show at all.

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      Posted in Theatre/Movies/Entertainment | 0 Comments
    • What’s for Breakfast?

      Posted at 1:22 am by kayewer, on January 4, 2009

      For those of us on the weight loss bandwagon, it’s hard to select food that is healthy and which doesn’t trigger the gag reflex between the fork and the digestive tract.  I remember an old episode of “Garfield and Friends” in which the titular cat suggested a diet that includes any food you can comfortably sit upon:  lettuce made the cut.

      What can one eat for breakfast?  I’ve gone over some possibilities, and none of them seem right.  First, eggs are not on the list:  they are high in cholesterol whole, and I don’t want to waste either the white or the yolk just for the sake of having the half of the egg I spent good money for.

      Bread is not good for you, either.   Anything made with refined flour is bad, but the purer stuff is high in calories.

      Cereal is out as well because it contains refined sugars or the above refined grains.  Hot cereal isn’t good, particularly oatmeal unless it is steel cut.  What’s with that, anyway?  Do they put individual oats on a chopping block, absolve them of their sins and then decapitate them?  And that brings up the subject of how they “cut” the other oatmeals out there.  Maybe it’s a kosher thing and the oats were killed humanely under the watchful eye of tradition adherent rabbis.

      Have you ever stood in the oatmeal section of the market?  It’s a confusing array of flavors, textures and boxes in sizes that don’t fit in your cupboard.

      Those of us who take medication can’t even settle for grapefruit for breakfast, because the juices in those little yellow globes contain ingredients that affect the absorption of many medicines.  I’m also told that the standard daily glass of orange juice is not good for dieters because the juice is mixed with high fructose corn syrup.

      I won’t even go into the issues associated with sausage, bacon or other so-called breakfast meats.  Cheese is out because it’s high in fat.  Coffee is bad for you, and in terms of milk I’ve already downsized from whole to 2%, which fortunately looks better in a glass than skim milk, which resembles chalky water in a carton.

      So I’m back to square one:  what can a dieter have for breakfast that doesn’t guarantee a trip to the poorhouse, doesn’t affect the heart or liver, and won’t add high fructose corn syrup to the gut?

      No wonder most people skip breakfast altogether.

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    • End of Year Wrap-Up

      Posted at 2:09 am by kayewer, on December 28, 2008

      2008 was not a great year, but at least the United States is still standing, I have my health and a roof over my head, and the malls are open.

      Best Weight Story:  I haven’t gained any weight.  Of course, I haven’t lost any weight either.  After modifications in my food choices and more exercise, you’d think I could drop at least one pound.  Not happening.  Maybe I should go on one of those tofu and water diets. . . .

      Healthy Year Story:  I did get one cold at an inconvenient time, but I learned something in the process.  After trying to sit through a production of “Othello” while my nose did its impression of a water main break, I learned that I do not like theatre in the round or performed in the midst of the audience on what the industry calls a thrust stage.  The play was wonderful, but the close proximity of the actors to me was so intimate that I got a bonus case of the hinkeys watching the Moor slay Desdemona.  Have you ever felt like a passive witness to murder with a ticket in your hand?  To add insult to injury, my theatre class instructor cornered me outside to ask what I thought, and I bawled, “It was soooo intense,” while my eyes teared up and my nose ran a blue streak.  She was thrilled that I apparently got so involved in the experience.  I’ll let her enjoy what was my worst acting performance ever; why ruin the illusion?

      Best Non-Moment:  The day I went to see “Les Miserables” in Philadelphia, the weather was the hottest of the year, but I hit upon one of those rare days in which my hair stayed put in the humidity and my face didn’t explode in the heat.  I had on my nicest outfit, I spritzed on my special occasion perfume and public transportation performed flawlessly.  The show was great and worth the wait.  So on a whim I stood by with a few more “stage door Janeys” to catch a glimpse of the star of the show (the only reason I’ve plunked down any entertainment money in the past two years that didn’t involve the above theatre class outings has been to see this one individual).  The responsibility of two performances that day precluded his coming out to chat that afternoon.  I did get to meet some of the other devotees in the lobby, so we had a fun chat in his absence.  I was also able to confirm later that the well-dressed folks I was admiring outside the theatre before the doors opened were the family members of said star, so I guess I get a point for looking so good in such good company.

      Best Non-Date Moment:  It’s kind of strange when your avatar in Second Life gets hit on more than you do in real life.

      Best Writing Moment:  I’ve managed to crank out another chapter of my novel.  I’m supposed to have something written for a planned writer’s group anthology by January 10.  If I can get that done, I’ll feel even better.

      Worst Writing Moment:  Trying to write a paper on Frankenstein for the fourth time since I went back to college.   I had to email it to the instructor at last after having had enough of micro-managing the darn thing for three weeks.  Being a smothering parent to a piece of work is a writer’s worst vice.

      Strangest Thing I Gave Up This Year:  I stopped using my radio on July 8.  After being into music culture in my car and at home most of my life, the silence is eerie.  Now everybody else is into satellite radio, but I’m not buying into that.

      As in previous years, I’ve given up giving up things for Lent for Lent: works every year (which is strange, because I don’t observe Lent).

      Things I Discovered This Year:  Orbit Citrus Mint gum, grape flavored water and chocolate covered pomegranate pips.

      Next Year:  I hope to finally get to greet said performer, lose some weight, not catch a cold and never again be forced to write a paper on Frankenstein.  I want to have my novel finished by May and that January 10 paper looking sharp.   With any luck, everybody will have more good than bad moments.  And the malls will stay open.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged New Year
    • The Office Parties Strike Again

      Posted at 1:04 am by kayewer, on December 21, 2008

      This year was a record for me:  I’ve been to four holiday luncheons and will soon attend a fifth.  I know, some people have many more than that, but for me more than one party is enough to give my vital signs a jump start.  Usually I go to just one office party held by our department at a local restaurant.  This year I changed offices (because they moved me from one state to another to help out at a different location), so I received two invitations, one boss took me and my peers out for a more private lunch, and three friends and I got together for one last munchdown before the new year dieting:  another boss will also hold a lunch next week.

      Sometimes an office party is the only time you see some of the people in your office, especially when it’s a 24-hour operation.  The same shift personnel often sit together, which is a shame because it deprives people of the chance to meet somebody new.  I feel this disconnection keenly because I’m responsible for the paychecks for a multitude of people I have never met because they work after I have already gone home.

      Of course offices can’t hold Christmas parties per se (those folks with non-Christmas holidays on their calendars need recognition too), so they’re called “Winter Celebrations” instead.  Excuse my bluntness, but I welcome the skiers and ice fishermen to celebrate winter:  I’d rather be a snowbird and winter up in Florida or the Caribbean, so I don’t really feel celebratory once the solstice comes.  I go to the parties to share human contact and discover what’s new in the world in terms of news, food and frolic.  I’ll worry about the weight after New Year’s.

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