A reader can always tell when a columnist has struggled for a topic to go on about for 20-some inches. And usually, after several years of having to come up with something funny, relevant and interesting week after week, a columnist will finally break down and write the ‘I Couldn’t Think Of Anything To Write About This Week’-column, admitting to the reader their once-fertile mind has gone barren.
Doesn’t usually happen in Week Two...
Resolute
Just over a year ago, I decided that as of Jan. 1, 2009, I was going to quit, cold-turkey, eating the cuisine from one of the world’s major fast-food giants.
Now you don’t know me, so this might sound like no significant challenge. So I’ll tell you some fast facts.
The Summer of McRib Love (1994) saw me and my best friend of the time claim the corner two-seater table right inside the drive-through-side door at the Orangeville location. We were cholesterol-lovin’, processed pork-fuelled equivalents of Cheers barflies Norm and Cliff, showing up around two every single day of our summer vacation for the special Flintstones meal. The only way neither of us weighed 300-lbs. was the walking to and from the restaurant.
When I moved to Barrie, there were golden arches just across the street from The Examiner. For the first two months I worked there, at lunchtime, I ran across the street for a quarter-pounder with cheese, and fries. For two months. Once I’d settled into town a bit more, it was only every other day.
I polished off six cheeseburgers in a single sitting before playing soccer one Sunday afternoon. Of course, I was terribly sick, and it put me completely off cheeseburgers until Wednesday of that week, but I had proven, for a brief while, it could be done.
These are just three quick, off the top of my head, “Hi, I’m Chris, and I’ve got a problem” examples. But you get the picture.
So when I made the resolution announcement back near the end of ’08, as you may imagine, those who knew me and had borne witness to my insatiable desire for the red-headed clown’s wares, laughed out loud. Nobody thought it would be possible. And the problem with a quitting resolution, once you’ve told people, is now people are on the lookout for you cheating. I told everyone at work to help squash the temptation to grab a quick cheeseburger at lunch.
Now, I’ll admit I didn’t make the full year completely McFree. One time, on the way home from a cottage trip up north, it was that or McNothin’, so I broke down. I did, however, limit myself to just two cheeseburgers and a medium fries. There was one other desperate cheeseburger after that incident, but I made it 12 months making less trips than I ordinarily would in under a week. I had proven, or pretty close to, it could be done.
So a few weeks ago, my wife Jenn asked me what this year’s resolution would be.
(Alright, let’s get this out of the way. We’re not married, there’s been no ceremony, and there’s no ring. But, we’ve lived together for over four years, we have our three-year-old son Jack, and a fetus soon-to-be-known-as Andrew, scheduled to make his debut in about a month. So as far as I’m concerned, she’s my wife, and will henceforth be known as such without the explanation.)
As I was saying, this year’s resolution.
I gave it a lot of thought, did some real soul-searching, and decided I really went for it last year. That was a massive challenge, so perhaps this year, I should give myself a break. So that’s the resolution – take it easy. I feel I’m already following through by taking three weeks to commit.
I will prove it can be done.
P.S. I broke my McFast two weeks ago with three cheeseburgers and large fries. It was delicious.