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Old Man’s thought for the day

 

Time is fleeting. The moments are passing.

Time is not on your side for time treats everyone the same.

We never “have” time because time is not something we can possess.

We cannot “make” time because there is no more time to be made.

On the plus side, we cannot “lose” time because it is a steady constant.

Time is a currency and when we are finally out of time how we spent our time is what defines the quality of our lives.

We all have a limited amount of time. It is up to us to use that time wisely.

This is your time.

I hope you have a good time.

Abide.

Satisfaction

I went to the Indiana State Fair today. $2 Tuesday, you know. It was a chance to get out with The Girlfriend and Son #3, which is always nice.

The theme this year is “The Wonderful World of Food.” Indianapolis is trying really hard to be a foodie city, which is rather cool. So, I was hoping to see some of the more contemporary food choices represented.

Nope. No deal, man. Everything was deep-friend and covered in 100% fat. Even the veggies. $2 deals all over the place and this Old Man couldn’t eat a damn thing. Talk about disappointment. All the smells, all the temptation, and I had to wait until I got back home to eat anything.

This had me thinking about a certain Rolling Stones song. Specifically, Satisfaction. As in, “I can get no …”

That pretty much sums up the way the Old Man is feeling at this point in the day.

Although, there is one bit of good news: Letterman is coming back to television! Granted, the format is nothing like the old Late Show. He’ll do long-format interviews which is a strong point of his. The only problem here is that we’ll have to wait until 2018 and he’s only doing six episodes.

Sigh. Satisfaction, man. It really is tough to find.

We Are Slobs

Fashion retail is failing because we prefer to dress like bums

 

charles i. letbetter

The Short Version

With thousands of major brand name stores closing this year, fashion labels and department stores alike are struggling to find a way adapt to a fundamental shift in how people dress. Comfort dominates over style. Dress codes once forged in steel have been shattered. Rare are the occasions when we feel the need to “dress up.” Our preference is for wearing what once would have been referred to as gym clothes. All around the world, we have become a society of slobs.

Defining The Situation

My youngest son’s prom was last night. He came out of his room dressed in a black tux with white shirt and a tie that I had to tie for him. He was even wearing hard soled shoes for the first time in well over a year. He was handsome. He looked good. I took pictures to send to his mother.

Within ten minutes of arriving back home, however, he was back in his typical uniform of shorts and a t-shirt so old the white cotton has yellowed. This is how he prefers to dress. This is how his friends prefer to dress. They see little reason to dress up, especially if they’re spending most their day in a classroom.

On one hand, it would be easy to say that my son’s choice of clothing style is typical of a generation, and to some extent it is. However, his generation is merely taking to the extreme a trend that has been growing since before I was a teenager. We can talk about millennials and Gen-X and Boomers all we want, but the truth is we’ve been building to this level of casualness since the Great Depression of the 1930s, nearly a century ago. Society’s standards for clothing are not based on the trends of a single fashion season but upon multiple generations desiring to be more comfortable, less rigid, and freer.

Unfortunately, in our desire to run away from the corporate dress code and gender-based stereotypes, we have gone to such an extreme where the greater majority no longer care about trends or passing fads, or standards, or social expectations. We care more about our own comfort, creating our own “style,” being “unique,” and not selling out to a label. In the process, we have become a society that is full of slobs. We’re not just casual. Our global fashion style has evolved to a point to where wrinkled and slouchy is acceptable and we have decided to be okay with that.

A Slow Progression

One of the challenging aspects of my life now is that I struggle to get in 30 minutes of physical exercise or reasonably aerobic activity during the day. My doctor insists that I must, but our house is small, space is limited, and the effects of unpredictable weather provide too many convenient obstacles. Still, I have to take responsibility for my health (Kat insists) and that led to me going to the mall this week to do that stereotypical old person thing: walk. I have become that person. We’re not there to shop, just walk.

I took the 18-year-old with me for safety. I still don’t have these new meds balanced out just yet and sudden blood sugar drops are a problem. Sure enough, by the time we made a couple of rounds, I needed to sit and chug some juice. This gave us a chance to people watch, which is typically an interesting enough activity all on its own. What we observed was interesting.

The number of women wearing some form of Spandex®-infused leggings was roughly 70 percent. Most were black, but there were a couple of middle-aged women whose thighs were far from toned wearing leggings of bright colors and designs that made it impossible to not notice that their thighs were large and not toned. Easily 90 percent of men were in jeans or some other casual pant, loose fitting, a little too long. The day’s cool and wet weather had most everyone in a jacket, the range running from Nanook of the North-styled parkas to plain hoodies. Under those jackets were primarily t-shirts, which isn’t too surprising. None of the shirt tails were tucked, though, and men especially tended to not tie their shoe laces, leaving them dangling or tucked in the top of their sneakers. The general appearance, overall, was best termed as slouchy.

Sure, there were exceptions. We saw a couple of young women wearing very nice dresses, fully coiffed and made up, pushing babies in strollers as they headed toward Von Maur with fierce determination. People of certain ethnicities and religious practice were dressed according to their cultures’ traditions. One young woman, who might have been coming from or going to a job interview, was dressed what we traditionally refer to as “professional” but was having some difficulty walking in block heels that were about a size too large for her.

Those were the very obvious exceptions, however. More typical was the teenage girl who wandered into Pac-Sun wearing well-worn flannel pajama pants and a frayed hoodie. The pajamas were long enough to nearly hide her worn sneakers and the hoodie was large enough to obliterate most her features. She shuffled as she walked and her phone never left her ear.

How did we get here? Blaming generations is easy, but incorrect. We’ve been building up to this for a very long time.

Prior to the stock market crash of 1929, what one wore defined their place in society and the vast majority of people were anxious to look better off than they were. Think of what we refer to as the “roaring” twenties and one conjures images of girls in flapper dresses and men in sharp pinstripe suits. While the every-day reality was something a little less formal, there remained a sense that how one dressed reflected their character and morality.

The Great Depression changed all that, however, and by the time we came out of World War II we had begun softening our attitudes toward how we dressed, especially in non-work settings. Denim moved away from being strictly the uniform of labor and became an after-school favorite of teens and college students. Slacks became a regular part of women’s fashion and men came home and traded their suits for khaki slacks and open-collared short-sleeve shirts. As quaint as that may sound to us now, it was a fundamental shift in philosophy as casual wear became a fundamental part of the fashion industry.

Once society got a taste for casual style, we decided we really liked it and slowly moved toward integrating more casual looks into our daily wardrobes. By the time we got to the 1970s, we had the horrible experience of the leisure suit, leather fringe, and the shift toward athletic footwear for things other than athletics. The “track suit” became a thing and President Jimmy Carter even wore jeans and a denim jacket in the oval office. Ronald Reagan tried pulling the nation back with forced formality at the White House, but it was too late. Casual Friday became a workplace

Casual Friday became a workplace norm in the mid-80s and by the time Bill Clinton took office in 1992 the world was well on its way toward khaki hell, fueled by the casual attitudes of the burgeoning high-tech industry.  Office dress codes that once required ties and jackets of men and dresses for women were the exception rather than the rule by the time the world nervously celebrated Y2K. Denim was always pre-washed and often “distressed” and ripped in strategic places. Flip-flops replaced sneakers to the point that some people didn’t think twice about wearing them for official visits to the White House.

Underwear became a part of our fashion sense, partly thanks to Madonna and partly the influence of Calvin Klein. “Street style” and “urban” became regular parts of our fashion lexicon. Questions of what, exactly, defined “office appropriate” became a regular struggle for HR managers who no longer had a clear road map to follow. We rebelled against any kind of forced style structure and increasingly insisted upon autonomy in deciding what we wear.

At the same time, we also became more self-aware regarding our health and our bodies. Videos on the Internet allowed us to see “behind the scenes” of how the “beautiful people” kept in shape. Fitness went mainstream and yoga, especially, not only became the dominant form of wellness but also infused itself into our fashion sense. Yoga pants and sports bras went from being something one wore to the gym to a regular part of our wardrobes no matter where we were.

In 2014, Vanessa Friedman, of The New York Times asked what to call this “gym-to-street sector that has suddenly become the hottest thing to cover two legs?” Nike CEO Mike Parker declared, “Leggings are the new denim.” Beyoncé’s line for Topshop targeted “women who go to yoga or the health club, as well as those who just want to look as if they do,” according to WWD. The term “athleisure” came to define those clothes that have an athletic appearance but are not really meant for one to actually sweat in. Alexander Wang, chief among the athleisure designers, made a killing.

In the short years since our style decisions have completely disintegrated. If athleisure is okay, then a couple of steps below that must be okay as well. Ragged, ill-fitting, wrinkled, old, and frayed have become such a standard part of our wardrobe that we even see those elements incorporated on fashion’s runways.

The problem is that fashion relies on trends, which change and lead us to keep buying new clothes. Athleisure is not a trend and as we dissolve into a new level of slovenliness we care less and less about purchasing anything new.

Fashion On The Ropes

A part of me cried this week when Ralph Lauren announced that they are closing their flagship store on New York’s 5th Avenue. Not only has that store been the base for all things Ralph Lauren, in recent years it’s been the home for the designer’s fashion shows, spectacles that transformed the entire store into a giant runway. Lauren is not alone, though. Fashion retailers are fleeing their 5th Avenue shops like rats flee a sinking ship and that sinking metaphor is more appropriate than any of us care to admit. Consider the number of store closing already announced this year:

  • Payless
    Stores closing in 2017: 1,000
  • RadioShack
    Stores closing in 2017: 552
  • The Limited
    Stores closing in 2017: 250
  • Family Christian
    Stores closing in 2017: 240
  • Wet Seal
    Stores closing in 2017: 171
  • Bebe
    Stores closing in 2017: 170
  • Crocs
    Stores closing in 2017: 160
  • J.C.Penney
    Stores closing in 2017: 138
  • BCBG
    Stores closing in 2017: 120
  • American Apparel
    Stores closing in 2017: 110
  • Kmart
    Stores closing in 2017: 108
  • hh Gregg
    Stores closing in 2017: 88
  • Staples
    Stores closing in 2017: 70
  • CVS
    Stores closing in 2017: 70
  • Abercrombie & Fitch
    Stores closing in 2017: 60
  • Macys
    Stores closing in 2017: 68
  • Sears
    Stores closing in 2017: 42
  • Guess
    Stores closing in 2017: 60
  • Green Mountain
    Stores closing in 2017: 30

I know, not all of those have anything to do with fashion or style, but what affects one retail sector ultimately affects them all. How we dress or don’t dress, the degree to which we shop or don’t shop, has a ripple effect across all of retail, even reaching all the way out to seemingly extreme disconnects such as Family Christian stores. Guess what: we’re not buying religious t-shirts, either. The retail economy is reeling from such a severe attitude of casualness that we no longer give a fuck whether we buy anything or not.

Not that we care. As our society has descended into this realm of wearing whatever we pick up off the floor and calling it our “personal style,” we don’t seem to realize that at the core lies a self-centered philosophy that no one has a right to challenge or question what anyone else does. For me to sit at the mall and question whether or not someone should be wearing those leggings is considered “shaming,” and I’m told to not do that. For me to challenge the young woman who wore her pajamas to the mall is infringing upon her personal rights. Even my choice of titles, asserting that we are all slobs, is considered judgemental and inappropriate by most. We want to wear what we like and have rejected any sense that anyone has the right to even question our decisions.

The longer-term danger, beyond the severe economic impact and the jobs being lost, is that in our self-centered casual attitude we’ve not only stopped caring about what other people think, we’ve stopped caring at all. We care about my pets, my cars, and my life experiences. Sure, we still consume, and those who cater to our selfish desires are doing well. However, the Internet has made it all too convenient for to pretend that we care about refugees by simply donating $5 online rather than actually getting out and helping people. We post our political opinions on Facebook but can’t be bothered to actually have conversations that matter with our elected representatives. We’ll join a rally if enough other people are going because our egos are stroked when we appear to be part of something popular.

Unpopular conclusions

The examination that leads me here is harsh. We are slobs. We are self-centered. We are selfish. While none of these conditions are new, we’ve been this way for thousands of years, where society once considered these traits as something to avoid, we now embrace them fully and cherish them as if they were actually desirable. We love doing and wearing whatever the hell we want. We don’t care if our actions destroy the economy as long as we’re getting what we want. We just don’t want anyone else telling us what to do, where to go, or how to behave. We’re independent, dammit, and if we have to dress slovenly and act slovenly to prove that, then that’s exactly what we are going to do.

Perhaps, however, we need to reconsider some of the lessons our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents tried to teach us. There is some benefit to following rules. Standards not only help maintain order, they keep us safe. We mind our manners because it matters how we behave and how we treat other people. We don’t put our wants and desires first because it is important to actually care about other people first. We are taught delayed gratification because it keeps us fiscally stronger and avoids the irresponsibility of debt. We dress as well as we can for any given situation not to show off but because it is a sign of respect for those around us.

That last piece there, respect, is something we’ve all but lost. We want others to respect us, we’re all about people respecting who we are and what we do, but we give no one anything to respect in the first place. Respect does not exist when we don’t care what other people think. When we choose to dress like trash, we are effectually telling the rest of the world that we think they are trash. When all of our actions and motivations are self-centered on personal pleasure and gain, we are telling the rest of the world that we think they are inferior. We can copy and share the suicide hotline number on our Facebook profile over and over and over, but the proof of whether we actually care about the lives of other people lies in our all our actions, not our words.

How we dress, how we talk, the activities in which we directly participate, tell those around us whether we respect them as humans, part of our shared society. Dressing, speaking, and behaving appropriately says that we care, that we are willing to put respect for others above our own comfort and/or convenience. Without that visible demonstration of respect, all the words we might post on social media or anywhere else are meaningless.

We when dress, speak, and behave like slobs, we tell those around us that we really don’t give a shit about them. We say that our own comfort and perceived independence is more important than anything or anyone else. Ultimately, slobs don’t even respect themselves.

We can do better. We must do better. I don’t know about you, but I don’t care to be a part of a society of slobs.

Can I Eat Here?

Note: This article was previously published on the Old Man’s other website. We apologize if you’ve read it before. We needed content and the Old Man is cheap. For us. For anyone else, he’s insanely expensive. 

Fighting Type 2 Diabetes means finding flexible places to dine

 

Ready-to-wear fashion season is always a bit stressful around here. I’m up at 2:00 in the morning trying to catch early runway shows in Europe and trying desperately to keep up with trends and issues. I can get a wee bit irritable by the time it’s all over.

This past February, though, was worse than usual. I was fussy before New York even started. There were other issues as well. I was constantly running to the bathroom. I was always eating something. If I wasn’t in the middle of a show or writing a review, I was napping. The slightest little deviation from expectations was upsetting. Worst of all, my blood pressure was at dangerous levels despite medication. Something had to be done and Kat gave me little choice but to make an appointment with my doctor.

After the appropriate blood tests, my doctor determined that I have Type 2 diabetes and, oh yeah, that puts me at high risk for a whole slew of other things, of which high blood pressure is only the beginning. Liver disease. Kidney failure. Heart disease. Every time the doctor mentioned something else, he wrote another prescription. The instructions were to take them all or bad things, very bad things, could happen.

I left the doctor’s office that morning feeling devastated. My father had Type 2 diabetes. Unfortunately, he didn’t find out until his retinas detached, leaving him blind. I remember far too vividly the adjustments he had to make to his entire lifestyle. Mother was incredibly strict not only about what he ate (and didn’t eat), but also making sure he ate at exactly the same time, or as close to it as possible, every day. Poppa confided to me on more than one occasion that his menu had become so dull and tasteless as to take all the joy out of eating. Is this what the rest of my life would become?

Then, as though the universe wanted to emphasize the point, an acquaintance who had ignored her diabetes until she lost a leg, unexpectedly passed away. The entire time I knew her, she subsisted on pizza, fried chicken, and mac-and-cheese. On top of that, she smoked two to three packs of cigarettes a day. The only nod she made to her diabetes was drinking Diet Coke. Granted, the diabetes wasn’t the direct cause of her death, but it most certainly contributed to it.

The message I was received was clear: a lot had to change, and that change had to be made immediately without compromise. My A1C, which is a three-month average of blood sugar, was at 10.5. Anything above 6.5 is diabetes territory. At 10, one is in danger of everything from eye problems to nerve disease. I needed to get that number down and get it down quickly.

Following what I knew from Poppa’s regimen, everything with sugar in it went away immediately. No chocolate. No pie. No cake when anyone celebrated a birthday (and we had three within a month). No barbecue sauce. In fact, since most sauces have fat as a base (either in the form of meat drippings or butter/dairy), almost every sauce I’ve ever used is off the menu. Nothing fried, at least not in the traditional sense. At my next check-up, a month later, I had gotten my A1C down to 8. Still high, but low enough for one month that the doctor was impressed. We were doing the right things. All we had to do was keep it up. Easy enough, right?

Hardly.

I need to eat now

charles i. letbetter - can I eat here

Eating well always sounds easier than what reality delivers

At my doctor’s insistence, we met with a dietician who specializes in counseling diabetics. She was encouraging in telling us that we were doing all the right things, and, if anything, could ease up a little on how strict we were being. She explained that current science shows that a complete elimination of fats and sugars isn’t necessary, but a severe limit on certain foods while emphasizing others. Her recommendations were similar to the American Diabetes Association’s Create Your Plate program: 25% protein, 25% grains & starchy foods, and 50% non-starchy vegetables. She also emphasized getting 130 grams of carbohydrates in each day, which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

We set out some dietary goals that I could track easily enough. I shoot for 2000 calories a day, though I seldom actually eat that much. When we’re talking steamed veggies and fruit, 2000 calories is a lot of food! We try to keep the total amount of sugars under 50 grams. This includes naturally-occurring sugars, mind you. Most days I’m able to keep that under 20 grams, though, which is helpful. My limit on saturated fat is more of a challenge some days. 22 grams is the limit. I’ve had to change much of the way I cook to stay under that number.

Perhaps the most challenging, though, is watching my sodium intake. High blood pressure is one of the most common problems associated with diabetes. Watching sodium intake is critical to controlling both diseases, but it’s not easy. Everything one buys at the store has sodium, even if it’s labeled organic. My limit is 2300 milligrams, which may sound like a lot, but consider that just ONE Big Mac contains 950 mg of sodium. If you want to get really crazy, a Dave’s Single at Wendy’s contains 1250 mg of sodium! Add fries and a soft drink to either, and one can pretty much exceed the sodium limit in just one meal. Even something that sounds as healthy as boneless, skinless chicken breast comes packed in a solution that contains, you guessed it, sodium.

We discovered that keeping to most of the dietary limits was easy enough, though I still have issues with cholesterol. The more unexpected issue was that once the prescriptions kicked in and my blood sugar began dropping and my blood pressure evened out, I was more aware of severe drops in my blood sugar when they happened. Yes, most of the time I was feeling better, but when my blood sugar drops there is an instant weakness, dizziness, and often a sense of confusion. The solution is to eat something immediately, such as sucking on a piece of hard candy.

If Kat is with me, which she is a large portion of the time, there’s no problem. She keeps Jolly Ranchers in the bottom of her purse for just such emergencies, and then we get something healthier to eat as soon as possible. When she’s not with me, though, the situation can get scary, quickly.

This first became critical one Thursday in April when I was out by myself, sitting at the Starbucks on 46th and Illinois, doing some writing. After a few hours of working and sipping coffee, I began to feel the early signs that a sugar drop was happening. I had wisely brought some candy with me and fished a piece from my sweater pocket. Disaster averted, so it would seem. But I needed something real to eat. I looked at the Starbucks menu and there was nothing safe. While sugar counts might be low on some items, everything was loaded with sodium!

I looked across the street at one of my favorite places to eat: The Illinois Street Emporium. If nothing else, I figured, I could get a salad there. Even that, though, came with a challenge. At 11:30, there was already a line out the door and down the sidewalk. I knew there was no way I could stand in line for several minutes. I popped another Jolly Rancher and waited for the line to go down.

Once I could get inside, about 30 minutes later, I looked at the menu board. I was starving by this point and really wanted more than just a salad. The fragrances of all the homemade breads and fresh food were intoxicating. There’s a damn good reason people go out of their way to eat here. Examining the menu was a bit disheartening, though. Many of the sandwiches contained sauces or were cooked in a sauce that was either high in fat, contained a lot of sugar, or loaded with sodium. For some, the portion size alone was too much. I finally found a spinach and tomato sandwich on 100% whole wheat bread (a critical factor) that, with a couple of minor adjustments, wouldn’t cause any problems and would meet my dietary requirements.

That experience drove home something I had rather known all along but had yet to experience first hand: eating out diabetic is difficult!

A larger problem

charles i. letbetter - can i eat here

Over 30 million people have Type 2 Diabetes and that number only keeps growing

If I were the only person on the planet with this unique dietary problem then we might say that it’s my fault for having eaten poorly, and there are still some who might say such a thing. We frequently hear Republicans refer to diabetes as a “lifestyle” disease, implying that we bring it upon ourselves. That’s not the case, though. I’m far from being alone. Over 30 million people in the US alone have diabetes and that number grows dramatically every year. Does diet play a part in that? To some degree, yes, but it does not cause the disease. In fact, scientists have yet to figure out exactly what predisposes someone to be a candidate for contracting Type 2 Diabetes. Hereditation seems to play a factor. Ancestry seems to be a contributor. Diet is a participant but not necessarily a determining factor.

Adding fuel to the fire is the fact that as much as a third of the people who have Type 2 Diabetes don’t realize they have it and of those who do know and are receiving treatment only about 20% are getting appropriate treatment. Like my recently-deceased friend, many people who have diabetes think they can either wish it away or that it’s not a real disease. They couldn’t be more wrong.

When we spoke with our dietician, she explained her amazement with my early results. “Here we are talking about little ways you can improve how you eat and that’s unusual for me. With the majority of patients, I struggle to get them to just cut back just one can of soda a day. They don’t understand how everything they put in their mouth is killing them.”

Because of that sense of lack of urgency, diabetes doesn’t get as much public attention as it should. Not since the late Wilford Brimley, whose diabetes-related commercials have been widely parodied, has the disease had a spokesperson widely associated with Type 2 Diabetes. Because the issue is rarely in our faces, we don’t think about it. Its symptoms are similar enough to other more “popular” diseases, such as depression, we are more likely to investigate those remedies than we are to ask our physician for a blood test.

Making matters all the more difficult is the fact that Type 2 Diabetes is a lifetime disease. Yes, one can get it under control to the point that medication is no longer necessary. However, if at any point one decides to abandon the diet, the problems and dangers of the disease are coming right back, and likely even stronger and more troubling than before.

Type 2 Diabetes requires individualized treatment to be effective. Not everyone needs to take insulin shots. A significant number of people, myself included, are able to control their diabetes with Metformin, a biguanide that decreases blood sugar levels. Some, like my late father, need other stronger medications. Some need very little. There’s no one-fix-cures-all approach to controlling the disease. One needs to see their doctor on a regular basis and carefully follow the instructions provided.

Then, there are the associated diseases to which we’ve referred. Diabetes can contribute to any of the following:

  • Glaucoma
  • Retina detachment
  • Nerve disease
  • Stroke
  • High blood pressure
  • Kidney disease
  • Liver disease
  • Bronchospasm
  • Insulin Autoimmune Syndrome
  • Low Blood Sugar
  • Confused
  • Depression
  • Easily Angered Or Annoyed
  • Feel Like Throwing Up
  • Gas
  • Itching
  • Loss Of Appetite
  • Not Feeling Well
  • Over Excitement
  • Rash
  • Redness Of Skin
  • Sleep Disorder
  • Swelling Of The Abdomen
  • Taste Problems

On top of all that, as if those weren’t enough, diabetes can sap your stamina and cause severe sexual dysfunction! Even when the disease is being reasonably well managed, many of those problems can still affect one’s health. So, instead of just taking one or two medications, most people with diabetes end up taking several others as well in order to avoid the problems for which they’re most at risk. Again, every situation is different, so consulting a doctor is absolutely critical.

So, where do we eat?

charles i. letbetter - can i eat here

A healthy pizza and muffins are possible, but you won’t find them on most pizza menus

I enjoy cooking, so for me, the best and easiest solution for controlling my diet is to eat at home, which is what we do a very large percentage of the time. There are days, however, where eating at home is either not practical, possible, or pleasurable. Those are the times when eating out becomes a challenge. Convenience certainly goes out the window because there is practically nothing on fast food menus that keeps both fat and sodium below my allowable limits. Most devastating from the convenience food category is pizza. From the dough to the sauce to the processed meats, there is no standard pizza place that makes a pizza I can eat.

Sit-down dining offers more and better options, but even there one can find plenty of challenges, even if all you want is a salad. House dressings are almost always loaded with sodium, especially if they are low- or no-fat. Pre-packaged salads are frequently covered in cheese, which is a high-fat food. Chain restaurants buy much of their meat in bulk and freeze it, which inherently means a higher salt content. Plates are frequently loaded with starchy vegetables, such as potatoes, corn, and peas. One has to be careful.

One’s best, and safest, approach is to dine at locally-owned restaurants. The food here is likely to be fresher, contain less fat and sodium, and depending on the time of day and the item, more easily customized to one’s particular needs. We asked restaurateur Ed Rudisell, owner and investor at several Indianapolis-area restaurants, including Rook, Black Market, and Siam Square, how his restaurants respond to requests for special orders. We weren’t surprised by his response:

We get occasional requests for substitutions and happily do what we can when preparing the food. Of course, some dishes are easier than other to make adjustments to, but we always try our hardest to accommodate.”

While we’ve only eaten out a few times since being declared diabetic, I have found Ed’s response is typical for locally-owned eateries. Generally speaking, local restaurants are more responsive and sensitive to unique customer needs. There are times, though, when even a locally-owned restaurant can’t adjust a menu item to order. Rob Koeller, Owner/Executive Chef at Culinary Concepts & Hospitality Consultants and former dean at The Chefs Academy at Harrison College, went into a bit more detail:

“The whole “trick” to the restaurant business regarding the food is that you “prep” or pre-prepare as much of the food as possible without jeopardizing the quality so that you can get the food out to the customer in a timely fashion.  Depending on the dish that is offered, many (if not all) of the ingredients are already fully cooked and simply needing a reheat.  An example would be Veal Osso Buco or any braised dish.  Of course, soups and stocks are not being “made-to-order” so being able to keep your food quality up is a struggle and daily challenge.  In these types of dishes, it is hard to make any substitutions due to the nature of the recipe.

On the other hand, many dishes are not that way when it comes to preparation.  Sandwiches, salads, sautéed items, etc. all can be actually “made-to-order” and quickly reach the customer.  With these types of dishes, it is easy to make substitutions or leave allergens out, etc.

My basic approach to any special requests from customers is that if their request is possible/doable, then the answer is “yes” as to whether or not a substitution or alternative can be executed.  The customer, in my regards, is always right so if their request is something that can be done at the moment then it will be done.  Of course, there are requests that simply can’t be fulfilled.  (i.e. a gluten free customer wants sorghum flour used in their pasta but there is no sorghum flour in the establishment).”

One of the things I appreciate about Chef Koeller is his ability to adjust to requests on the fly, something that is aided by the depth of his experience. Experience and education such as his typically aren’t found in most chain or fast-oriented restaurants. Many chain restaurants don’t require any formal education for their kitchen staff at all and turnover is frequently high, making the development of those skills difficult. Asking a line cook at iHop to make adjustments in how your chicken is cooked might be more challenging than making a similar request at a restaurant such as Black Market.

Again, Chef Koeller explains:

One of many points that are taught to a culinary student is that he/she are not cooking for themselves anymore; they are cooking for others.  In today’s world of increasing food allergies, diabetes, and compromised immunities, it is critical for a chef to be aware of the various challenges such as you speak.  Truth in advertising is heavily stressed because of these obvious reasons.  A menu item that contains 40% sodium enriched ingredient(s) should state something to that fact on the menu. With the high turnover in hospitality employees, it has been increasingly difficult to rely on the server to relay important dietary information to the customer.

When I first started looking at places that were safe to eat, I instinctively looked online for nutrition information. What I saw tended to scare me. There are several websites that specialize in providing nutrition information for common dishes at chain restaurants. Pulling from the website nutritionix.com, we looked at some dishes one might think would be safe. Here’s what we found. Percent Daily Values are based on a 2000 calorie diet.

From Applebee’s:

Lighter Fare Cedar Grilled Lemon Chicken
 Amount Per Serving
Calories from Fat 230
Calories 580
% Daily Value*
40Total Fat 26g
20% Saturated Fat 4g
Trans Fat 0g
102% Cholesterol 125mg
16% Sodium 2440mg
20% Total Carbohydrates 48g
Dietary Fiber 5g
Sugars 15g
Protein 42g

From Panera Bread:

Frontega Chicken Panini on Focaccia Panini, Half
Amount Per Serving
Calories from Fat 110
Calories 370
 % Daily Value*
18% Total Fat 12g
18% Saturated Fat 3.5g
13% Trans Fat 0g
45% Cholesterol 40mg
14% Sodium 1070mg
12% Total Carbohydrates 43g
Dietary Fiber 3g
Sugars 4g
Protein 23g

From Red Lobster:

Shrimp Your Way – Shrimp Scampi
 Amount Per Serving
Calories from Fat 150
Calories 230
 % Daily Value*
26% Total Fat 17g
15% Saturated Fat 3g
Trans Fat 0.5g
40% Cholesterol 120mg
24% Sodium 580mg
1% Total Carbohydrates 3g
Dietary Fiber 0g
Sugars 0g
Protein 17g

Any of those menu choices might be one which a conscientious person would reasonably think safe for the average diabetic, and for some diabetics, they might very well fit the bill. However, there are caution points to each one. Look at the fat values, especially saturated fat. Fat turns into sugar and is often more dangerous than the actual sugar content of the food. Anything that represents more than 10% of my total allowable fat intake for the day is something I tend to avoid. Pay attention, also, to sodium. The Applebee’s menu item, as healthy as it sounds, is already over my limit of 2300 mg for the day. For anyone with concerns about heart disease, cholesterol levels are important as well. None of these menu items are as safe as we would like for them to be.

There’s a danger, though, of relying on nutrition information. There are different ways of calculating those numbers and percentages. While the differences are typically not severe, when one is watching each and every gram, such as I do, those differences can matter a lot.

Diabetics also need to understand that certain foods inherently come with certain risks. One large egg, for example, represents 50% of my daily cholesterol limit. I don’t have to ask, I know that anything prepared with egg is going to have a higher cholesterol and a slightly higher fat level. Knowing these things is important when dining at locally-owned restaurants that are not likely to have nutrition information available and for very good reason. Ed Rudisell explains:

“For small restaurants, it is nearly impossible to provide nutritional information. Our menu items change too frequently, the lab costs for testing are insanely high – making it the territory of chain restaurants, and preparations of a dish can change daily with the availability of ingredients/produce meats.”

What may be the biggest challenge to diabetics, however, is portion size. We, as Americans, are preconditioned to think that more is better and that, especially when it comes to food, we need to make sure we are getting our money’s worth. This is one of the primary reasons that America has an obesity issue and contributes in no small amount to the rise in Type 2 Diabetes. We are, in a word, gluttons, and that is a huge problem. Moreover, the fault for that problem doesn’t lie with the restaurants, but with the consumer. We demand more, so restaurants feel obligated to provide more.

Jolene Ketzenberger, editor, and the host of WFYI’s Eat, Drink, Indy, among a number of other food-related qualifications, places the responsibility for portion sizes squarely on the consumer:

Consumer demand drives dining trends. As more people wanted vegetarian or gluten-free dishes, for example, more restaurants began offering them. And now we have some strictly vegetarian restaurants. If there is a demand for a specific type of food, the market will comply, and someone will offer it. I think some restaurants, particularly the locally focused, farm-to-fork restaurants, do offer smaller portions; in fact, many of them get criticized about it. And the “small plates” trend makes it easy to enjoy a few bites of a dish rather than an entree-sized portion. So diners do have more options these days to eat lighter, healthier fare.

Mr. Rudisell adds:

As far as portion control is concerned, we try to keep everything reasonable. But I will say this: A LOT of Hoosiers’ definition of value is based on quantity over quality. We encounter this all the time. If you read the reviews of some of the best restaurants in the city, you’ll very often find “portions are too small for the price”. Again, quality is hardly taken into consideration, if at all. A lot of people only focus on the size of the plate and not the quality of the food/preparation. I’ve seen this time and again in my 25 years managing restaurants.

I cannot help but think that this is why it can so often be difficult to find menu items that are safe for diabetics without modification. We don’t say anything. Some are too embarrassed. Some don’t want to be a bother. The worst, though, is that the majority of people with Type 2 Diabetes aren’t even trying. Again, going back to the case of my deceased friend, even among people who know they are diabetic, roughly 70% are not following any kind of doctor-prescribed plan for addressing the disease! They prefer to endure the ever-growing list of consequences rather than watching and tracking what they eat, taking a handful of medicines every day, and getting a reasonable amount of exercise. Such ignorance speeds one’s encounter with death and ultimately reduces the amount of pleasure one can have in their life.

Solving The Problem

charles i. letbetter - can i eat here

Dining while diabetic can be just as much fun as any dining experience

Since that first day when I was caught out and needing food, I have had other situations come up where I needed to make a quick decision about where to eat. While I may not be able to indulge in my favorite fat-ladened pizza, I found several places that I can eat safely and still enjoy something with more culinary expression than kale. The onus is on me, however, not the restaurants and not the chef, to know what my body needs and what fits within my dietary allowances.

Can diabetics eat out and enjoy the experience? Absolutely! Here are some simple steps for making your dining out just as much fun as it has always been.

  1. Know your dietary limits. Talk to your doctor. Consult a dietician. Follow their advice. Everyone’s dietary needs are going to be different based on their specific risk levels. There’s no way to control diabetes with your diet if you’re just making guesses at what your body does/doesn’t need.
  2. Choose a dining location carefully. Avoid fast food unless there is simply no other reasonable option. Locally-owned, smaller restaurants are far more likely to have delicious fresh food and typically can be more responsive to requests for changes.
  3. Be considerate when requesting changes, but do ask for them. Things prepared in advance, such as soups and sauces, often cannot be modified. Understand that there are limits to what a chef can do and avoid being unreasonable in your requests.
  4. Eat smaller portions. This just needs to be a regular part of your dining habit. Stop eating so damn much unless your doctor specifically tells you otherwise (and they rarely do). There’s no shame in asking for a half-portion if necessary.
  5. Leave good reviews. In today’s socially-aware environment, restaurants and patrons alike rely heavily on reviews. If you have a good experience with a restaurant that made adjustments to accommodate your needs, then let people know! There are other diabetics who would love to see that kind of information in a restaurant review and it helps the restaurant out as well.

Let’s get real before we end this thing. Being diabetic is anything but fun. The problems can be severe and it has severely curtailed my activities. Even if I get my A1C level down below 5, diabetes never goes away. The dangers associated with the disease never goes away. Diabetes is a life sentence and the best one can do is learn how to deal with it effectively.

I am distressed by the number of people who do nothing to control their diabetes. If all 30 million diabetics started paying attention to controlling the disease, eating better, taking their medicine, and exercising, we could have a dramatic impact on the entire country. We would likely see more restaurants with menu items appropriate for diabetics without modification. We might even see changes to how fast food is stored and prepared. Who knows, we might even start seeing pizzas with whole wheat crusts and non-processed toppings!

We, as diabetics, have to shoulder the responsibility, though. Nothing changes if all we do is sit on our ever-expanding asses and ignore the issues plaguing our health.

Yes, you can eat out. Take some responsibility and find places that work for you. Everyone will be better for it.

The Rise and Fall of Mayberry

Note: This article was previously published on the Old Man’s other website. We’ve moved it over here to help populate the place a bit.

Andy needs a gun and Opie’s moving meth.

 

 

Smalltown America has always been an important part of who we are as a country. Back in 1960, Producer Sheldon Leonard worked with a then little-known comedian named Andy Griffith to create a television show that would look at the humorous-yet-wholesome side of small-town living. Griffith would play a county sheriff who never needed a gun, aided by a neurotic deputy who couldn’t be trusted with more than one bullet while trying to raise a son and find love somewhere in the mix. America latched on to this bucolic fairy tale and for more than 50 years it has been one of the most cherished television shows ever produced.

Mayberry itself was a fictional place, though many have long suspected that it was based on Griffith’s hometown, Mount Airy, North Carolina. Still, there have always been places like Mayberry in almost every state in the union. Places with fewer than 5,000 people in residence, where chances are high that one lives down the street from at least one relative, where life moves at a slower pace and seems protected from the crime and dangers of the big cities.

Places like Mayberry cropped up after the Civil War, in the latter party of the 19th century and into the 20th. They were agriculture-based communities back then, filling the needs of farmers who required a place to buy feed and seed, groceries, and send their kids to school. Land was cheap and the westward expansion was attractive as it offered the opportunity to be self-sufficient and in control of one’s own life. Native tribes were pushed from their land and new territories were opened to settling. The West was tamed not so much with bullets as it was with a plow.

The early part of the 20th century was the heyday for towns like Mayberry. They grew strong. The people who lived there were committed to the core tenets of freedom, valued their independence, and didn’t shy away from participating. They wanted their voice to be heard in government, they wanted to provide for their families, and they wanted to be safe.

The industrial revolution and the popularity of automobiles brought light manufacturing to these rural areas. A small plant that hired 100 people was enough to fuel the economy for the entire county. The results are still present today. The large two-story Victorian houses of plant supervisors and shop owners still line the main streets, with the smaller houses of their employees lining the streets behind them until they eventually blend into corn fields or wheat fields or pasture for cattle.

In the economic boom of the early 20th century, small towns like Mayberry often built schools and town halls from limestone. City parks with gazebos and bandstands and playgrounds were central aspects. Banks were locally owned and most small towns, like the fictional Bedford Falls in Frank Capra’s It’s A Wonderful Life, had two, one with a national charter and the other chartered in the state. Most anyone could get a small loan and in the majority of small towns, foreclosures were rare.

Small towns were made of God-fearing people, mostly Protestants with heavy doses of Lutherans and Methodists. Businesses closed up shop at 5:00 and everyone was home for supper by 6:00. High school sports brought the town together in the evenings, and almost every small town thought they could have a chance at a state championship next season.

Sure, small towns had problems, like rampant racism, unspoken sexual abuse, and unchecked alcoholism. Those issues seemed so very minor, though, compared to the big city crime gangs with their tommy guns and turf wars, investment scams, hoodlums, and bank robberies. People in small towns at least pretended to care about each other, even if they were secretly jealous of each other’s pie recipes or who went on the most exotic vacations.

War takes its toll

charles i. letbetter - the rise and fall of mayberryPeople in small towns were largely disconnected from World War I in many ways. News from Europe traveled slowly to rural parts of the country. The United States’ involvement was late enough and brief enough that most of those who served returned home as decorated heroes, the stars of small-town Fourth of July parades. They even formed their own clubs, such as the American Legion, and the Veterans of Foreign Wars. This gave the men a place to sit and drink and make-up battle stories where everyone was pinned down and the least likely of the group saved them all.

But on the back side of that war came the Great Depression and small-town life grew challenging. Cash flow became a problem. Factories began to close and family farms struggled to stay operational. When World War II came along, people in small towns saw it as a chance to be great again. So, they sent their young men, their store owners, their farmers’ work hands, and any other abled body to fight.

The end of that tragic war saw the resurgence of the American hero. While small towns paid a greater price this time around, they were still proud of those who had served. Parades featured them prominently. Membership in ex-military organizations was a sign of social standing. Military release papers guaranteed one a job in almost any factory and a loan from practically any bank. By 1950, the only thing most small towns saw as a threat was rock and roll.

But then came the Korean conflict; not actually a war, but a call to duty and the sons of heroes were sent off to fight and die in jungles for a cause so confusing that World War II’s best generals couldn’t win. When many of those sons failed to return, some began to question the whole military worship of small towns, but only the rebellious “trouble makers” dared speak of it.

Then came Vietnam and the 1960s. The children of those WWII heroes had gone off to college, something most their parents never had the opportunity to do, and with education came the realization that conflicts such as Korea and Vietnam didn’t actually solve anything. Speaking out in small towns wasn’t acceptable, though, so the young adults left small towns, moved to the cities and joined a different kind of social revolution. Those who didn’t leave were drafted and small towns paid a disproportionately heavy price as troops fought in the rice paddies of Southeast Asia. With few young people left to maintain the local workforce, small towns began to see the first signs of decline.

Economic realities

charles i. letbetter - the rise and fall of mayberryBy the 1970s, small towns were beginning to realize that they were in danger and struggled to hold on to their identities, and often failed. Small manufacturers were gobbled up by larger corporations and the jobs moved outside the US. The economics of farming changed and the family farm grew less viable. Corporate farming companies made attractive offers and bought up thousands of acres. Farmers, chasing whatever jobs they could get, moved to larger and larger cities.

With fewer economic opportunities and the lure of fast fortunes and glamorous lifestyles perpetuated through television and movies, small towns became the places where people were from, not where anyone of note actually lived. Young people ran from their hometowns the instant they graduated high school and never looked back. Then, by the late 1980s and 90s, those now middle-aged adults began moving their aging parents away from the small towns as well. Medical care was better and more readily available in the big cities. Retirement centers offered comfortable living without the upkeep and maintenance of an aging house and lawn. There was no reason for anyone to stay in a small town anymore.

Of course, not everyone just immediately gave up and left. Some tried to hang on. The store owners whose shops lined main streets everywhere did their best to maintain services for those who remained, but even they found the economics difficult. Wal-Mart, with its impossibly low-priced clothing, knocked small shop owners out of business, unable to compete. Big chains such as CVS and Walgreens eliminated the local pharmacist. Finally, the bulk-purchasing power of grocery chains such as Kroger drove out the small independent grocers whose stores had fed small towns for generations. Remember Wally, Mayberry’s mechanic and gas station owner? He was bought out by Shell or BP and replaced with a convenience store. Even restaurants and diners ultimately gave way to McDonald’s and Taco Bell.

Slowly but surely, the economic vitality that once fueled small towns just went away. Nothing was left but a handful of dreams and memories of when the town used to be great.

All that’s left

charles i. letbetter - the rise and fall of mayberryI grew up in small towns and, like most of those from my generation, couldn’t wait to be gone, to make my mark on the world and enjoy the opportunities of the big city. I’ve never regretted moving away and have no plans to return for any length of time.

Earlier this week, though, Kat and I needed to visit one of those once-great small towns. We knew from our last trip two years ago that we couldn’t stay long. We would fulfill familial obligations, give grandma a chance to grow weary of the kids, and be gone. Four days total. It felt as though we were there for a month.

What we saw and heard was depressing. Gone are the days where small towns can be policed peacefully. Local law enforcement utilizes the most modern equipment available as they attempt to hold reign over an epidemic of meth and opioid literally stripping the life from the town. Were they still alive today, Andy not only would wear a gun but body armor as well. Barney wouldn’t be some hapless goof, but a well-trained paramilitary officer with tactical capabilities sufficient to take down well-armed gangs.

The policing equipment was the highlight of the town’s Independence Day parade. Only four military veterans were left to ride in a refurbished Jeep. The rest of the parade consisted of local church groups, a half-dozen Boy Scouts, a bus filled with residents from a Lutheran retirement center, and the one local business that still does well: a sewage company.

At the local park, food tents and vendors’ stalls were run by the town’s increasing immigrant population. Unable to find local people to fill the positions, companies hire immigrants for farm work and to process chickens at the local food conglomerate facility. The town has an obesity issue. It would be challenging to find many people over the age of 18 who are not severely overweight. Not that we’re surprised. Statistics show that small towns are havens of undiagnosed diabetes. There’s little healthcare available in town. There’s no hospital anymore. Most people drive the 30 miles to a large city when an emergency arises. They try to avoid those situations, though, because few can afford insurance.

There were no softball ballgames on the school diamond. In fact, the youth population has dwindled to the point the county has considered closing the schools there. The large houses along the main street are filled mostly with older people whose children bring the grandchildren to visit, just as we did. While little faces lined the parade route, few actually live in the small town. When the parade was over, most people retreated inside their homes for the rest of the day. There were no community picnics, despite the festivities at the park. No pie-eating contests. A local band played on the bandstand, but no one was listening. A firetruck opened its hose, spraying water into the air, but only two children were playing in the spray.

At the end of the day, we were one of a dozen cars sitting in an empty parking lot watching fireworks paid for by a non-profit grant-based organization. Even on that matter, most people seemed to prefer doing their own fireworks with their families, seeing who could go right up to the midnight deadline.

We left the next morning, anxious to get back a life that is, for us, more comfortable and, quite possibly, even a little safer. Small towns like those in which I grew up have changed. They thrive only on memories of what life was once like there. No one smiles and waves as they pass. No one sits on the front porch and strums a guitar in the evening as Andy did in Mayberry. Next-door neighbors don’t know each other’s name.

As we pulled onto the Interstate headed home, we pondered whether we would ever return to the small town again. Perhaps it would be easier if Grandma just came to us, where we don’t have to worry about not being able to find the right kind of milk or ice for a cooler. The once-quiet and peaceful attraction of the small town is gone. Now it is simply lacking and perhaps a bit more dangerous than the inner-city neighborhood we call home.

Life in small town America is no longer capable of projecting the idyllic pastoral settings we once pretended were the reality. When the dominant family-run business is three generations of divorce attorneys, we can no longer claim that small town life holds any advantage. The glory days are gone and no orange-skinned con man can bring them back.

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