
Some people collect stamps and coins. Others fill their homes with old records and vintage toys. There is a man who lives just down the street from us who we’ve been told has a world-class collection of cut glass poodles. He keeps a few on display on a windowsill, but we have yet to be invited in to view the full collection. We have a childhood friend whose mother has filled her house with Lladró figures of children dancing and playing which look like overgrown pieces from a Norman Rockwell themed chess set.
For us to belittle other people’s collections would be hypocritical. We have so many collections that we can barely track them all. Our shelves are crowded with antique jars, espresso cups and Godzilla toys dating from Steven’s childhood. Hidden in various locations, including under the bed, are seven ukuleles, three guitars, a clarinet and a Theremin. We store enough wine on site that we could stop buying today and last three years. We are truly the Imelda Marcos of athletic equipment, with two surfboards, four bikes, three sets of skis, skateboards, weight vests and more pairs of running shoes than a mid-sized track team. We are also diet book junkies. We cannot walk past a used bookstore without checking out what crazy diet books they have on hand.
For us to belittle other people’s collections would be hypocritical. We have so many collections that we can barely track them all. Our shelves are crowded with antique jars, espresso cups and Godzilla toys dating from Steven’s childhood. Hidden in various locations, including under the bed, are seven ukuleles, three guitars, a clarinet and a Theremin. We store enough wine on site that we could stop buying today and last three years. We are truly the Imelda Marcos of athletic equipment, with two surfboards, four bikes, three sets of skis, skateboards, weight vests and more pairs of running shoes than a mid-sized track team. We are also diet book junkies. We cannot walk past a used bookstore without checking out what crazy diet books they have on hand.
For us to belittle other people’s collections would be hypocritical. We have so many collections that we can barely track them all. Our shelves are crowded with antique jars, espresso cups and Godzilla toys dating from Steven’s childhood. Hidden in various locations, including under the bed, are seven ukuleles, three guitars, a clarinet and a Theremin. We store enough wine on site that we could stop buying today and last three years. We are truly the Imelda Marcos of athletic equipment, with two surfboards, four bikes, three sets of skis, skateboards, weight vests and more pairs of running shoes than a mid-sized track team. We are also diet book junkies. We cannot walk past a used bookstore without checking out what crazy diet books they have on hand.
The best part of collecting diet books is that very early editions will set you back no more than a couple of dollars. Apparently, most people view these editions as out-of-date rather than collectible. We, on the other hand, love these books because they contain a ton of weirdness that has been removed from later editions. For example, the first paperback edition Dr. Atkins’ New Diet Revolution describes Ketosis as “one of life’s charmed gifts. It’s as delightful as sex and sunshine, and it has fewer drawbacks than either of them.” That line was removed from later editions, we assume at the insistence of Mrs. Atkins.
The best part of collecting diet books is that very early editions will set you back no more than a couple of dollars. Apparently, most people view these editions as out-of-date rather than collectible. We, on the other hand, love these books because they contain a ton of weirdness that has been removed from later editions. For example, the first paperback edition Dr. Atkins’ New Diet Revolution describes Ketosis as “one of life’s charmed gifts. It’s as delightful as sex and sunshine, and it has fewer drawbacks than either of them.” That line was removed from later editions, we assume at the insistence of Mrs. Atkins.
Fact: The side effects of ketosis include nausea, fatigue, headaches, bad breath, oily stool and exhaustion. These symptoms can be so severe that within the Atkins community they are referred to as the “Induction Flu.”
As far as we can tell, no journalist ever thought to ask Dr. Atkins: what do you have against sex and sunshine?
The first edition of The Paleo Diet by Dr. Loren Cordain proudly declares that his diet protects against “Syndrome X.” Today, the term “Metabolic Syndrome” is used to describe the standard package of obesity related illnesses from high blood pressure to type-2 diabetes. When Cordain published his diet in 2002, the term was not yet in popular use. Cordain instead referred to that group of symptoms and diseases as “Syndrome X.” We love the term “Syndrome X” because it sounds like something out of a comic book. We know what Cordain intended, nonetheless, we cannot read “Syndrome X” without picturing a meeting of the Super Friends.
Superman: This meeting has been called to order. Will someone second the motion?
Aquaman: I second the motion to officially open this meeting of the Super Friends.
Superman: All in favor? Great. We do have one change to the agenda. Batman was planning to walk us through how to use the secret decoder ring, but we’ll have to put that off. Right now we need to deal with Syndrome X, which is threating to turn the human population of this planet into turtles.
Wonder Woman: I wish you’d stop talking like that.
Superman: Like what?
Wonder Woman: Like you’re somehow separate from the rest of the population.
Superman: What the hell are you talking about!? I am separate from the rest of the population.
Robin: I’d like to make a motion that we table Syndrome X until we’re able to discuss it using our inside voices. Flash, can you second that so we can move on to the decoder ring?
Of all the old diet books we own, Richard Simmons’ Never-Say-Diet Book is easily the oddest. To be fair, Simmons’ may have been joking when he wrote, “Snacking is the enemy of the people. It should be against the law to snack.” We consider ourselves authorities on both comedy and dieting and we simply cannot tell. Every serious point Simmons makes is paired with a Tourette’s style outburst. “I wish I was there to slap your lips.” We would put that quote in context, but frankly, context doesn’t help.
The advice in Never-Say-Diet comes down to the following: eat more salads, avoid high fat foods and stop ordering dessert. Since that advice would fit on the back of a matchbook cover, Simmons fills the rest of the book with photographs of himself posing in a unitard. We are talking about 88 pages of Simmons in Spandex. Ostensibly, he is teaching readers how to exercise. But we highly doubt that exercise was his real goal. Simmons claims that his entire program of knee bends and slow stretching can be done in only five minutes. Five minutes of mild stretching burns between 15 and 20 calories. While that is better than nothing, at that burn rate it would take roughly 175 days to lose a single pound. This is yet another example of why we’ve never been quite sure if Simmons was kidding.
We understand that writing a diet book is no easy task. We've written one. We have no idea what weirdness slipped into our first edition. More than once, we have written long passages only to discover that we are revealing way too many personally embarrassing details and/or we have no idea what we are talking about. In theory, the book’s editor should've removed such blunders before publication, but as the examples above show, that is not always the case. On that note, is anyone willing to lend us a couple of vintage unitards?
The advice in Never-Say-Diet comes down to the following: eat more salads, avoid high fat foods and stop ordering dessert. Since that advice would fit on the back of a matchbook cover, Simmons fills the rest of the book with photographs of himself posing in a unitard. We are talking about 88 pages of Simmons in Spandex. Ostensibly, he is teaching readers how to exercise. But we highly doubt that exercise was his real goal. Simmons claims that his entire program of knee bends and slow stretching can be done in only five minutes. Five minutes of mild stretching burns between 15 and 20 calories. While that is better than nothing, at that burn rate it would take roughly 175 days to lose a single pound. This is yet another example of why we’ve never been quite sure if Simmons was kidding.
We understand that writing a diet book is no easy task. We've written one. We have no idea what weirdness slipped into our first edition. More than once, we have written long passages only to discover that we are revealing way too many personally embarrassing details and/or we have no idea what we are talking about. In theory, the book’s editor should've removed such blunders before publication, but as the examples above show, that is not always the case. On that note, is anyone willing to lend us a couple of vintage unitards?