I think I have finally found the perfect catchphrase to use when signing a reader’s book.

Since publishing my first two novels in 2009 and 2010, I have been searching for the perfect catchphrase to use while signing a reader’s book.

I wanted something short, clever, memorable and apropos to me that I could use in addition to my signature, but I had yet to find the right sentiment. I have even put the question out to my blog readers and Twitter followers without any success.

Instead, I have been writing arbitrary phrases like ‘I hope you enjoy my story’ and ‘Thanks so much for giving my book a chance’.

Meaningless drivel that caused me to suffer a great deal of disappointment and self-loathing with every signature.

But after years of searching, I think I have finally found the perfect catchphrase.

When signing a reader’s book, I will write:

I know we’ve only spent a few moments together, but you remind me so much of the spirit found on page 86 of my novel. 

Except each time I will change the page number to a different, arbitrary page, leaving the reader to analyze and scrutinize the page in an attempt to bring some meaning to my purposefully random, intentionally amorphous statement.

Can you imagine the look of consternation on the readers’ faces as they read and re-read the page, searching for a hint of themselves amidst my prose?

It would be priceless.

Or perhaps I will choose half a dozen different pages from the novel that are especially suited to this purpose. Pages that are emotionally charged or perhaps devoid of emotion completely. Pages so inscrutable as to have the reader wondering about my comment for years and years.

I think this might be perfect. It would give me the chance to personalize every book that I sign and infuse it with some meaning (albeit false) while staying true to my own nonconformist, occasionally jerky self.

It might even work out well for some readers.

The narcissist will undoubtedly find a way to transform my comment into a sincere and meaningful compliment.

The introspective soul will have the opportunity to examine the page with careful thought and reflection.

The self promotional office braggart will have a new and fascinating topic of discussion for the next day of work, perhaps even photocopying the page and distributing it to his or her coworkers in an attempt to crowd-source an analysis of my statement.

Either way, I will have a little fun with the reader, and it will almost guarantee that he or she will share the book with others in an attempt to ascertain the meaning of my statement. this process might even lead to a few more sales as well. 

Not bad. Right?

Pandering or positivity?

I do not like being repeatedly told that a question I asked is a good one. I find this unnecessary, condescending, and disingenuous. I told this to a friend and she said that she felt exactly the opposite. When someone tells her that a question she asked is good, she feels validated and encouraged to ask another.

I think this illustrates the difference in our personalities perfectly.

When it comes to a pregnant woman’s size, ladies, please just shut the hell up.

New rule (though it shouldn't be necessary) and a rule I teach my fifth graders every year: No more commenting on a pregnant woman's physical appearance.

If my wife comes home with one more story of some idiot woman (and yes, it is always a woman) commenting on her size, I’m going to personally hunt that woman down and compose a treatise on every one of her physical imperfections.

Most recent was the woman in Starbucks who asked Elysha how many weeks along she was and then remarked that even when she was pregnant with twins, she didn’t think she was ever that big.

The woman should be forbidden from ever entering a Starbucks again. She probably shouldn’t be allowed in public anymore.

But there have been plenty of others.

There was the woman who asked Elysha if she is much larger during this pregnancy than her previous one.

There are the hordes of attention-seeking narcissists who love to tell pregnant women about how little weight they gained during their own pregnancies and how quickly and easily they shed those extra few pounds after the delivery.

There are the women who mistake pregnant women for walking, talking carnival games, trying to guess how far along they are and always guessing too far.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg. Elysha averages about one insensitive comment per week, and these can come from friends, coworkers, family members and even complete strangers, who for reasons that escape me see a pregnant woman and feel the need to immediately engage in conversation.

My advice:

Just shut the hell up. All of you. Stop commenting on a pregnant woman’s physical appearance completely. I’d like to say that compliments are still permitted, but I feel like you’ve exercised such poor judgment already that you cannot be trusted to offer a compliment without accidentally insulting the woman at the same time.

So just shut up completely.

And yes, I am certain that in all of human history, men have made these type of dumb ass comments as well, but of the eight recently pregnant women who I polled over the past two days, all reported that comments like these, while entirely too frequent, are never made by men.

Men learned a long time ago to never comment on a woman’s size.

Take a page from our playbook, ladies, and shut the hell up.

Seriously.

Pole vaulting, mailbox baseball and going to the prom are just a few of my ideas.

I was a pole vaulter in high school, and a fairly good one at that. I was a district champion my junior year, but my senior season was wiped out by a serious car accident. As a result, I was never able to take note of my final vault. When I walked off the pitch at the end of my junior season, I thought I still had another season of pole vaulting ahead of me.

Sadly, pole vaulting is not a sport like basketball or baseball that you can continue playing well after high school. Pole vaulting is one of those sports typically relegated to a vaulter’s high school or college career.

Nevertheless, I want to vault again. One more time. And I want to do it before it’s too late. At 41, I am in excellent shape, but I know that my window on pole vaulting is closing fast. There will come a time in the not-so-near future when pole vaulting will be a physical impossibility for me.

I have to try it one more time before that day comes.

This got me thinking that my window of opportunity is probably closing on other things from my past as well, and that perhaps this might make for an interesting book:

A 40-something man attempts to recapture and relive moments from his youth one more time before it’s too late.

Pole vaulting would be a perfect subject for the book. I could spend the spring working out with a local high school track team, relearning and re-mastering the skills required to execute a successful vault. I would gather amusing anecdotes about interacting with kids half my age and coaxing my body to do things it probably shouldn’t be doing, and I could recount stories from my own vaulting past, all while attempting to successfully clear opening height, which was 8’6’’ when I was vaulting.

It might actually make a decent book in its own right, but I think it could also serve as the heart of a book that deals with my attempts to foolishly recapture other meaningful moments from my life as well as I fail to come to terms with getting older.

Coming up with those other subjects for the book is the next step. So far I have two:

1.  Marching and playing the drums in a competitive marching band.

I played and marched with my high school’s drum corps from seventh grade through my senior year.  In that time, our band won a number of Massachusetts state championships and two New England championships. We also marched in the Rose Bowl, the Macy’s Day Parade, halftime at several Patriots home games, and down the streets of Disneyland. Marching competitively again would require that relearn to play the drums at a proficient enough level, which would probably mean spending a full season with a local marching band. I could document my struggles and successes as I attempt to integrate myself into a marching band filled with people half my age, and at the same time share the plethora of amusing, heartbreaking and even tragic stories that I have from my days with the marching band.

2. Mailbox baseball

While my wife is supportive about most things I do, she has made it clear that this would be a non-sanctioned activity. Growing up, a friend and I played a lot of mailbox baseball. Though I realize how destructive and dangerous this game was, it was incredibly thrilling at the time. To hang out of a car window just one more time with a baseball bat and obliterate just one more mailbox with a single crushing blow might make my life complete.

I have a few other ideas as well, but none nearly as good.

Attending one more prom is a possibility (I attended many of them while in high school), but there might be a serious creep factor involved with taking some high school girl to the prom (if I could even find one willing to go).

If you have ideas or suggestions that you think might work well, please let me know.

The positive, vicious circle of weight loss

When trying to convince a friend who wants to lose weight that exercise (not diet) is the most important part of any weight loss plan, I explain that exercise initiates the most positive vicious circle that I know. When you begin exercising, two things happen:

Your appetite goes down.

Your energy level increases.

I didn’t believe it when I started exercising on a daily basis, but it’s true.

The reduced appetite causes you to eat less and crave healthier food, so this unintentionally and almost unconsciously contributes to additional weight loss.

In many cases, regular exercise will be enough to initiate a significant change in diet.

At the same time, your energy level increases dramatically, which sounds counter-intuitive but is nevertheless true. In addition, you sleep more soundly, meaning you are suddenly able to sleep less. This means that any time spent exercising is almost immediately recouped by a reduction in the overall amount of time spent in bed.

Can’t find the time to exercise? Start exercising. You will suddenly have the time.

Can’t reduce the number of calories consumed in a day? Start exercising and burning calories and you will eat less.

None of this sounds like it makes sense, and but it’s true.

If you are looking to lose weight or simply improve your overall health, ignore dietary changes and start with exercise.

Initiate this positive, vicious circle.

Raising my daughter is a piece of cake, and there’s a good reason why I say this as often as possible.

Maybe people find pleasure in complaining. Maybe they need to justify their own problems by projecting them upon others.

Perhaps some people simply lack perspective.

I’m not sure.

But when Elysha was pregnant with Clara, we were repeatedly told about how difficult and exhausting parenting would be.

For reasons that I still fail to understand, it seemed as if it was the mission of the great majority of parents to destroy any perception that we might have that our child would be a blessing in our life and parenting would be a joy.

We heard stories about lost sleep, mounting expenses, the loss of basic adult freedom, the inability to see a movie or spend time alone, the stress on our marriage, the tantrums of a toddler, the never-ending string of dirty diapers, the cries in the middle of the night, and more.

Much more.

For every positive comment made by a person about our future as parents, there were at least ten comments describing parenting in a negative light. This is not an exaggeration. Nor is it uncommon. I hear comments like these made to expecting parents all the time.

This is why I make it a point to tell expecting parents about how easy it has been to be a parent. How ridiculously easy and utterly joyous it has been to raise our three-year old, and how it seems to get easier day by day.

And it’s true. Compared with all the struggles and difficulties that I have experienced in my life, parenting has not been hard.

Comparatively, it has not been hard at all. It has been easy.

And it is not because my wife and I are exceptional parents or because our daughter is an uncommonly good child. It’s simply because the blessings of parenthood kick the ass of the struggles of parenthood.

 

Yes, I had to change six diapers yesterday, and yes, at least one of them was exceedingly disgusting. But this meant that I was able to spend some uninterrupted, one-on-one time with my favorite person in the world, listening to her tell me about her shadow on the wall or the book in her hand or the mobile over head or her plans for the afternoon.

Yes, diapers are expensive and we have considerably less discretionary income than before our daughter was born, but in exchange, we have Clara.  Did anyone actually think that raising a child would save you money? Were the expenses of child rearing a surprise to any of these naysaying parents? It’s simply a tradeoff. Less discretionary income in exchange for an amazing, hilarious, loving, joyful human being.

I advise expecting parents to ignore the rising tide of negativity that will inundate them as their due date approaches. At the very least, smile and nod while reminding yourself how insufferably miserable people can be, regardless of their circumstances.

Even better, I encourage them to inquire as to why these nattering nabobs of negativity would want to ruin the excitement and anticipation of an expecting parent. I urge them to challenge these parents' assertions and question their motives. I tell them to keep an open mind and ask questions of these parents who insist on describing parenting as a miserable experience.

You haven’t slept well in five years? Were you a parent who refused to allow your child to cry herself to sleep? Was your toddler was still sleeping in your bedroom on her third birthday? Are you and your husband one of these couples who keep score of the time spent with and without your child or subscribe to the “If I am awake, you are awake” philosophy?

Not every child will become a good sleeper, but a lot of parents screw this part up royally and then whine about it for years.

Or how about this one:

You haven’t seen a movie in five years because it costs a fortune to hire a babysitter? You own an enormous house with a three-car garage. You have a 50-inch television mounted on the wall in your living room. You own two iPads. You drive a brand new car. You subscribe to HBO, Showtime and Netflix. Your child owns every trendy toy under the sun. Your handbag cost more than a Patriots season ticket. Not every family has enough money to hire a babysitter on a regular basis, especially in this economy, but oftentimes their inability to afford a babysitter has something to do with financial decisions unrelated to their child.

None of the warnings that parents imposed upon me prior to the birth of Clara have ever come true.

NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THEM.

Now that my wife is pregnant with our second child, the naysayers have returned, finding time in their miserable and harried lives to explain to me that one child might have been easy but two are not. They use trite and overdone expressions like “One plus one does not equal two when it comes to having kids!” and “Watch out! You won’t outnumber the kids anymore!” and take great pride in doing so.

But I know better now. I tell them to go to hell. Yes, another child will increase my level of responsibility. Yes, another child will cost more. And yes, perhaps this next child will not be quite so easy as Clara.

But in the end, I will have another amazing, joyous, wonderful, hilarious, loving human being in my life, and that will kick the ass of additional responsibilities and added costs.

I have made it my mission to go through life telling expecting parents that they are about to enter an exciting, joyful and unbelievably exciting time in their lives. I tell them that parenting will be far easier than most people describe it. I encourage them to ignore the army of jackasses who, for reasons that will always elude me, insist on stripping expecting parents of their hopes and dreams.

My daughter is three years old, and raising her as been as easy as pie. I sleep more than I ever have before. I see about a dozen movies a year. I play golf and attend Patriots games and go to the gym regularly. My marriage couldn’t be stronger. We couldn’t be happier.

So there.

Pirate ship/In-law apartment

We spent yesterday morning celebrating the birthday of one of Clara’s friends at an indoor gym filled with outdoor play equipment.

It’s actually a clever concept. All of the equipment that the children can play on is also for sale, so the business makes five bucks for allowing a kid to play indoors, and in return, the parents have the opportunity to playtest some of the equipment, including this enormous pirate ship which Clara adored.

And at $3,700, I thought the pirate ship was a steal. The only problem:

What do you do with your enormous pirate ship in five to ten years when your children outgrow it?

No one is going to buy it, since it can’t feasibly be transported to a new location, and it’s unlikely that you’re going to want to leave it in the backyard when your kids are teenagers.

Can you just imagine the kind of illicit and unspeakable things teenagers might do with access to something like this?

Then I came upon a solution:

An in-law apartment.

Yes, the interior of the pirate ship is small, and yes, it would require a little insulation and perhaps an extension cord or two to make livable. 

It might also be a little strange to have your in-laws living in a pirate ship in your backyard, but if you buy them a couple pirate hats, an eye patch and a parrot, they could make it work.   

And for many people (and I’m not necessarily saying me), it would be considerably better than having your in-laws puttering around your house all day, leaving dirty dishes in the sink and blasting the talking heads of MSNBC from the other room.  

 

The problem with karma (and my completely realistic solution)

This is the problem with karma:

It offers no confirmation that the people who have wronged you in the past have been paid back sufficiently.

There are people in the world who deserve exceedingly harsh treatment from karma based upon actions they took against me in the past, and even though karma may have punished them already, I have no way of knowing.

Instead, I am left hoping that they were punished while I continue to plot my revenge.

I am a very patient man.

In addition, my oppressors have no way of connecting karma’s punishment to the crime. When their house burns down or they inexplicably gain 90 pounds, they have no way of knowing that these unfortunate occurrences are the result of their past treatment of me.

This kind of satisfaction is essential when getting even with someone, yet karma offers no mechanism for this to take place.

What we need is a machine in every household that issues a receipt when karma has evened a score. A slip of paper with the date, time, reason, and description of the punishment.

My receipt would let me know that karma has gotten even for me.  It would be something tangible that I could stick on my refrigerator and enjoy every time I reach in for a glass of milk or a piece of fruit.

My oppressors’ receipt would let them know that their suffering had been handed down by me via proxy. It would serve as a tangible reminder of their cowardly, underhanded and despicable actions and would make that all-important punishment-crime connection clear.

That would be the kind of karma that I could support.

5 rules to follow when you find or steal a wallet or handbag

In an ideal world, wallets and purses would never be stolen and lost wallets and purses would always be returned to their owners in perfect order. Sadly, we do not live in an ideal world. Wallets and purses are routinely stolen and frequently lost. I have been the victim of a pickpocket once in my life, and I have lost my wallet two other times. I know how frustrating it is to have this happen to you.

With this in mind, I would like to broker a compromise between the thieves of the world who steal these items and the Good Samaritans who find and return them. This is not an ideal nor entirely moral solution to the problem, but it is one that I feel like everyone can agree to. My goal is to arrive at a point in which a person could lose a wallet or purse and be reasonably satisfied in terms of getting some of the contents back.

To this end, I have created a list of five rules that I believe would achieve this goal. They are rules to which thieves and Good Samaritans could both abide without much trouble, and they would leave all parties involved fairly satisfied with the outcome.

In the event you find or steal a wallet or purse, these are the five steps that all people should follow:

1.  The cash is automatically yours regardless of who you are or how much there is. Keep it all. It is the last thing a person is concerned about when his or her wallet or purse turns up missing and the most tempting thing to keep when a wallet is found or stolen. If you are a thief, consider it your profit.  If you are a Good Samaritan, consider it your reward.

2.  If you want to use the lost or stolen credit cards in order to purchase flat screen televisions and train tickets to Florida, you may do so, but keep in mind that you risk prosecution in the process. Thankfully, credit card companies protect consumers from the majority of these losses, and they are exceptionally efficient at issuing new cards and getting them into the hands of consumers in record time.

3.  Keep the wallet or purse if you so desire. Though I realize that some handbags can cost thousands of dollars, you have to be a crazy person to spend that much on a handbag in the first place, and you have to be even crazier to allow it to be lost or stolon. Let this unfortunate incident serve as a lesson to you: Spending thousands of dollars on handbag might garner the attention and admiration of similarly insane individuals, but carrying around an item in your hand worth thousands of dollars is also a dangerous proposition

4.  Leave the debit card behind. Even though you will never be able to guess the PIN in order to access the cash, the rightful owner will still have to close their old checking account and open a new one, just to be safe. This is annoying since it necessitates a trip to the bank and requires the owner to forget an old checking account number and memorize a new one. Not an easy task.

5.  Return everything else contained within the wallet or purse by either dropping it off in a US Postal Service mailbox or handing it over to the police. Driver’s license, passport, library card, gym membership card, AAA card, customer loyalty cards, photographs and anything else one might find in a wallet or handbag. While cash and credit cards are technically the most valuable items that you are likely to find, it’s the other items found in a wallet or purse that are most difficult (and sometimes impossible) to replace.

Think of it this way:

If your wallet or purse were stolen today and I could guarantee the safe return of everything inside except for the cash, credit cards, and wallet or purse itself within two business days, would you take that deal?

I think most people would.

We either agree to abide by my rules or you risk losing everything.

More sexy rumpus: Wiser words have never been spoken

The Oatmeal is one of the best online comics that you will ever read. His book, 5 Very Good Reasons to Punch a Dolphin in the Mouth, is outstanding. And it makes a great gift for anyone who shares its sensibilities.

His recent comics pertaining to Valentines Day are incredibly funny, but I found his advice regarding the verbal machinations of Valentines Day to be especially prescient and worth considering.

He writes:

If Valentines Day really means so little to you, then I politely ask you to shut the hell up and treat it like any other day.

Or go have a sexy adventure rumpus with someone who smells nice.

Less complaining.

More sexy rumpus.

It could not have been said any better.

If you’re going to ask one question in an interview, perhaps it should be, “Tell me about your parents.”

There’s an adage about entrepreneurs that goes like this: The more skin you have in the game, the greater your commitment.

In other words, the greater the personal risk that a business person faces, the greater his or her commitment to that business will be.

While not always true, I believe this to be true more often than not, and as a result, I would like to suggest applying this rule to all hiring decisions as well.

During an interview, I suggest that questions be asked about an applicant’s family. Specifically, I would want the interviewer to determine the current financial state of an applicant’s parents, specifically if the applicant is young.

Does the applicant still live with Mommy and Daddy?

If the applicant is living on his or her own, would the applicant’s parents allow the applicant to move back home if finances became a problem?

How did the applicant pay for college? Did Mommy and Daddy fund the entire education or did the applicant make a significant financial investment as well?

If the job doesn’t work out, are Mommy and Daddy in a position to assist the applicant in the event that money becomes tight?

A friend recently suggested that the people who are most successful in the first five years of their careers tend to be those who have no other choice but to be successful. If there are no parents to provide a home or financial support, student  loans in need of repayment, and maybe even a family of their own to support, then an applicant is more likely to do whatever is required in order to be successful.

Issues like pride, arrogance, laziness, a lack of focus and a sense of entitlement are less likely to become a problem when a person has only himself to count upon for the next meal.

Naturally, I do not think that this is always the case. I know many people with enormously supportive parents who are very successful in their careers.

But I think my friend is right. If the only thing standing between you and homelessness is your success, you can’t help but have more skin in game, and therefore, you are more likely to be committed to your job.

I also believe that the people who have little or no parental support tend to people who complain a little less, work a little harder, adapt to change a little more willingly, and accept the role of a boss a little better.

When you can’t call Mom or Dad to complain, you are more likely to just do your job.

Rules for surviving a zombie apocalypse (based upon ACTUAL EXPERIENCE)

I dreamt about a zombie apocalypse last night, not unlike the one that takes place in AMC’s hit show, The Walking Dead. It was quite realistic.

I survived the apocalypse, at least until I awoke, and I learned a few important lessons along the way that you may find useful in the event that zombies ever take over the real world.

Here they are, in no specific order:

1. Zombies cannot climb. They can utilize staircases and even ladders but are incapable of lifting their bodies off the ground by means of their own power. In my dream, this meant removing the staircases from homes. Residents were required to pull themselves up to the second floor by brute physical strength, which was impossible for many, but for the able-bodied, it was an excellent way to remain in the home in relative safety from the zombie hoard.

2. In an emergency, babies can and should be tossed in order to secure their safety. Better to throw a baby underhand rather than like a football.  Underhanded accuracy is decidedly better and results in fewer tragic tosses.

3. There are always a few idiots who do not take the dangers of the zombie apocalypse seriously, assuming they can outrun the hoard or play a quick game of zombie baseball before attempting an escape. Don’t waste you time arguing with these people. They are as good as dead.

4. If your father-in-law refuses to demonstrate a sense of urgency when fleeing from zombies, do not wait for him. His dawdling will get you all killed.

5. There is surprising room for debate in terms of the merits of becoming zombified. Is it better to die or allow yourself to become a zombie if you have no other means of escape? You might think that death is preferable, but zombies seem to be quite content while chewing on a femur or chasing down an over-confident, slow-footed hipster. Who are we to judge their existence?

6. Do not worry about food in a zombie apocalypse. The population of the planet will be decimated and zombies do not eat human food. There will be plenty of canned goods around to last years if necessary.

7. Zombies cannot swim, but this does not mean you should jump into a pool in order to escape a zombie hoard. Zombies are also exceedingly patient and will last longer than you can tread water.

8. People who carry suitcases get eaten first. You must be willing to abandon all worldly possessions in order to survive a zombie apocalypse.

In regards to the debate over the merits of zombification, it should be noted that in my dream, this debate took place between myself, my wife and several other people.

Last night I attempted to have the same debate with my wife and it went exactly as it did in my dream. Almost word for word.

She hemmed and hawed for about two seconds before declaring she’d rather be dead and dismissing all further discussion.

Sick of your date asking to split a dessert? I have the solution that will change your life forever. Seriously.

It’s a truth universally known that no man actually wants to share a dessert with his date. When it comes time to order dessert, it is quite common for a woman to suggest that the couple split a dessert.

My wife does this all the time, and I agree to the arrangement, as do most men, even though in our heart of hearts, we are screaming, “I want my own dessert, damn it! Get your own slice of pie and keep your mitts off mine!”

When it comes to ordering dessert, women are their mothers and men are the six-year old versions of themselves.

But now I have a solution, and it shames me to think that it’s taken this long to figure this out:

If the lady asks to split a dessert, happily agree to the division and then order a dessert of your own as well.

It’s perfect.

The six-year old inside a man’s body gets his own dessert plus a half of another while the lady’s request is adequately granted as well.

It’s actually a better scenario than if both parties simply ordered their own dessert.

In fact, it’s not even a solution to the problem. It’s an upgrade on life.

The reason that you are trying to lose weight could be the key to your success or failure

Since 2010, I have lost 55 pounds. I still get asked how I managed to accomplish this weight loss, and my standard (and slightly annoying) answer is that I decided to eat a little less and exercise more.

In reality, this means that I counted calories for the first year, reduced my portion size at every meal, and began exercising for at least 30 minutes a day. I lost about half a pound a week for more than two years, and this resulted in a weight loss of 55 pounds, or about 23% of my body weight.

I've kept off the weight and am in the process (I hope) of taking off another 10-15 pounds.

It’s important to note that I did not change what I ate. I only changed how much of it it I ate. I still eat an Egg McMuffin and hash brown at McDonald’s every morning. I still eat burgers and hot dogs and prime rib and Doritos and apple pie and not nearly enough fruits or vegetables.

I just eat less of these things. And even then, only a little less.

As much as I hate to say it, losing weight was not very hard for me.

Why?

Why was I able to lose this weight when so many other try and fail?

I’d like to think that it has something to do with my superior determination, my naturally athletic build, and my ability to accomplish anything once I set my mind to it.

I’d like to think these things, but I suspect that this is not the case.

But I think I may have an answer, and it has to do with why I chose to lose the weight.

I began my program of weight loss almost immediately following the birth of my daughter. Seeing my little girl for the first time made me realize that I wanted to remain in her life for as long as possible, and to be as healthy as possible during that time. Clara’s birth was a wake-up call for me.

I did not begin losing weight in an effort to improve my physical appearance.

I began losing weight in order to improve my health.

I think this may be the key.

Every day that I ate a little less and exercised a little more, I knew that I was improving my overall health. I was elevating my heart rate for a sustained period of time, reducing the amount of fat entering my body, building core muscle groups, and improving my cardiovascular performance.

Even though I was not seeing any changes in the mirror, I knew that everyday that I adhered to my plan, I improved my overall health.

I suspect that people who begin to lose weight in order to improve physical appearance fail because the effects of weight loss take a long time to see.  The first ten pounds can melt away without any noticeable difference in body mass.

The first twenty pounds can disappear without any change in the size of your waist.

Weight loss is annoying in that you first lose weight in all the places that no one sees or cares about, so if your goal is to look better, the results are slow in coming.

Even when the changes begin to happen, they will go relatively unnoticed until you begin wearing clothing that better fits your new size. The amount of attention I received for my weight loss skyrocketed after my wife purchased me clothing that fit my new frame.

Until then, the larger clothing effectively masked many of the changes in my body size. The six inches that I took off my waist went practically unnoticed until my wife bought me a pair of jeans that actually fit.

When I am exercising, and when I am opting for one plate of spaghetti and meatballs instead of two, I am constantly envisioning my heart and lungs. I keep them ever present in my mind’s eye. With each positive choice that I make, I imagine them becoming stronger and healthier and longer lasting.

For me, the change in physical appearance was simply a bonus. An unexpected outcome. The changes that have meant the most to me are revealed during my annual physical, when I am told that my blood pressure and resting heart rate are exceptional and my cholesterol has dropped into the near-normal range without the use of any drugs.

I would like to propose that a person’s rationale for a desired weight loss has a great deal to do with whether or not he or she will be successful.

I suspect that people who attempt to lose weight for reasons of health tend to be more successful in their weight loss. I also suspect that this motive for losing weight is not nearly as common as the desire to improve physical appearance.

There’s nothing wrong with attempting to lose weight in order to improve physical appearance, but I suspect that if this is your reason, you will be required to exert a greater degree patience and determination than I required.

I would submit that successful weight loss has as much to do with why you are doing it as it does with what you are doing.

Thoughts?

Three simple, slightly spiteful, steps to happiness

A friend of mine sent this to me: David Letterman to Ricky Gervais: Why did you host Golden Globes a third time?

Well, the first time I did it because it was a huge global audience for a comedian. The second time I did it because I could improve on the first time. The third time I did it because they said I'd never be invited back and I wanted to annoy them.

She suggested that Mr. Gervais and I would likely be fast friends.

I agreed.

If you examine his response, Gervais’ participation in the Golden Globes follows a path that I fully endorse.

1. Do something hard because it will improve your current standing in life.
2. Continue to do it until you've honed your skills and become an expert.
3. Continue to do it in order to spite your enemies and detractors.

It’s that last part that I like the best.

Why Your Life Sucks in Two Simple Pictures

Jessica Hagy in Forbes wrote a piece entitled  How To Be More Interesting (In 10 Easy Steps).  It’s an insightful and amusing piece, but had I been her editor, I would have paired her ten steps (I never trust a list consisting of ten items) down to three and re-titled the piece: Why You’re Life Sucks in Two Simple Pictures.

I thought these two pictures probably capture about seventy-five percent of the reasons for human unhappiness.

I can't identify a Kardashian because I look away.

I told a friend that I ended 2011 still unable to pick a Kardashian out of a lineup. She didn’t believe me.

In my younger days, I might have tried to convince her that it was true. But I’m older, wiser and more of a jerk these days. Instead I said, “Thankfully, I don’t care if you believe me or not. It does not change the truth.”

But it’s true. Unless you put a Kardashian in the lineup with a bunch of construction workers, I would be hard pressed to accurately point one out.

Here’s why:

I don’t watch very much television.

95% of my television viewing is time-shifted, so I see almost no commercials.

I do not read magazines like People or US.

Actually, I don’t read magazines at all. I read articles originally published in magazines on the Internet, but I can’t remember the last time I read from a physical magazine.

I also rarely see magazines like People or US. Most of my purchases are made at BJ’s (no magazine racks) or in self-checkout lines at Stop & Shop (also no magazine racks).

When I find myself facing one of these magazine racks, I am typically occupied by something else. A Twitter stream on my phone, an audiobook in my ear, or both.

I actually know very little about the Kardashians. From what I have gleaned through osmosis, their father was the attorney in the OJ Simpson trial and their step-father may or may not be former Olympian Bruce Jenner, who once graced the box of Wheaties that I ate as a child.

I also know that one of the Kardashians married and then divorced a second-tier NBA player on the New Jersey Nets.

I know this thanks to the brilliant Andy Borowitz, who made fun of the Kardashian repeatedly on Twitter.

I am happy that I cannot pick out one of these girls (are there two of them?) from a lineup. It is a source of pride for me. I hear so many people complain about their inexplicable popularity while simultaneously knowing so much about them.

If you don’t want to have the Kardashians in your life, simply look away. Stop reading magazines that earn a profit from celebrity baby photos, paparazzi pictures, and Kardashian wedding rumors.

Stop tuning into programs like the Today Show, which seem to report almost exclusively on celebrity marriages, the British royalty, the latest YouTube phenomenon, and the disappearance of upper-middle class, blond female twenty-somethings.

Just look in another direction. There are people in this world who are genuinely worthy of our attention, and these people are constantly overshadowed by people like the Kardashians.

Pay attention to people like Arielle and Austin Metzger instead.

At least stop complaining about the popularity of the Kardashians while simultaneously watching their television shows, reading about them in People magazine and watching them on the red carpet (if that is something they do).

But even better, let’s just give our attention to people more deserving. If we all just look away from people like the Kardashians, they will eventually go away.

They already have for me.

A new way of speaking that my wife cannot object to. Right?

Early on in our relationship, I told Elysha that I wanted to begin speaking like the British. I wanted to begin using words like lift and boot and flat.

I wanted to tell people to “Sod off!”

I was very excited about this idea and expected her to feel the same.

She made it clear that this could be a deal breaker in terms of our relationship, so I backed off.

But now I have an idea.

I listen to about four or five hours of podcasts and audio books a day.

I know it sounds like a lot, but the Bluetooth headphones basically sit atop my head for much of the day, so whenever I am walking, driving, working out, doing chores or am otherwise occupied by activities that do not require my auditory attention, I am listening to a book or podcast.

With this in mind, consider this:

What if I began listening exclusively to British podcasts and audio book read by British readers?

Would I naturally begin to develop a British accent?

Or at least be able to pull off a fairly decent impersonation of a Brit?

After all, she can't complain if my way of speaking changes without any effort on my part. Right?

Thoughts?

You are not pregnant. She is.

New rule: No more “We’re pregnant.” Especially from men. In the realm of pregnancy, there is no we. While I’m sure that the men who use this ridiculous phrase probably have the best of intentions, it is a stupid thing to say.

If you are a man, you are not pregnant. To imply otherwise is an insult to the  women who actually bear the burden of pregnancy, and it makes you sound like anything but a man.

It makes you sound desperate for attention.

Like impregnating the girl wasn’t good enough.

Like you need more.

You don’t.

“My wife is pregnant” says it all. It indicates that you are responsible for creating a baby and are probably assisting your wife as the burden of pregnancy becomes greater, but doesn't imply that you are seeking any credit where credit is not due.

Take a stand against “We’re pregnant.” Push back at every utterance.

Stop using this ridiculous phrase if you have been, and if someone is foolish enough to use it, inform them, with grace and civility of course, that they sound utterly stupid.

Let’s make this a year filled with a little less stupidity.

Business idea using a Google search and a willing celebrity

Am I late to the party of this particular piece of genius? Twitter feed: @OldManSearch

The Twitter bio reads:

My dad is 81 years old. I’m teaching him how to use the Internet. I told him Twitter was how to search things on Google. These tweets are what he’s searching.

Brilliant. Right?

How’s this for an idea? Musicians, authors, actors, athletes and other celebrities license access to their Google searches.

Pay a monthly fee to be able to see what people like Salman Rushdie, Adele, Bruce Springsteen, LeBron James, Jon Stewart, and Margaret Atwood are searching on these days.

I’d pay to see that.