We're not in Kansas anymore...

...which became evident when I entered Sonny's Real Pit Barbeque restaurant in Kingsland, Georgia and discovered that I was the thinnest person in the place. When I told the waitress that I didn't want some of the extra side dishes that came with the ribs I had ordered, she had to ask the manager how to put through the request. It seems that no one had ever wanted less food.

Of course this got me to thinking. In my entire life I've never been considered thin. There are baby pictures of me in which it appears I have been inflated, perhaps so that I would float better. If in fact this was done to me, I have never been able to locate the release valve, and, while I am a spectacular floater, it's been a high price to pay. Throughout my childhood, my wonderful Aunt Minnie used to greet me by grabbing a handful of my ample cheek (facial! This is a family blog!) and pinching and squeezing it in delight. There are no military secrets that I would not have divulged to my sweet aunt during these greetings.

Is it possible that just by luck I have landed in a part of the country where I will be considered thin? Is this Gulliver's Travels with calories? This would be like being an adult and finding out you're actually adopted. (One of the greatest Curb Your Enthusiasm episodes by the way.) One's entire self-perception would have to change. I would certainly start living my life differently. I would actually order dessert for one thing. “Yes, I'd love some of that Key Lime Custard Crème Cocoanut Cheesecake. What's the harm?” I would tell the waitress. I would smile every time I walked past a health club and think, “Those poor people don't seem to be enjoying themselves.” When my doctor would warn me about the dangers associated with carrying extra weight, I'd be able to say, “Who are you kidding, Tubby? From the looks of it, you're going before me.”

Maybe I'll become one of those best selling diet authors. I could call my work The Route 95 South Diet. Oprah would have me on as a regular guest. There would be a chapter entitled, "Feeling Bloated? Visit South Carolina". To help with weight maintenance, there would be suggestions like visiting Wal-Mart once a week or organizing a 5K fun waddle.

OK, I think I've strip mined this particular area thoroughly. Let's move on to music. I have been a music lover, primarily jazz, since I was 14 or so. That seemed like a nice thing to be until I boxed up my CD collection for the move and discovered that I had about 120 pounds of CD's to ship to the panhandle. Think about the weight of one CD and consider how many of the foolish things I must have to equal 120 pounds! The real question is how many of these CD's do I cherish. My guess is no more than half. I remember a time long past when buying a "record" was so important and so precious that I would weigh the decision for a week before making the purchase. And when I brought the album home, I would listen to it so intently that I would have all the "cuts" memorized within a day or two, jazz solos and all. That was then, this is now. Many of these CD's have barely been played. I would buy them just to buy them; much of the passion and the need to know the music was gone.

My mission will be to pare down these CD's to represent the music I really care about, digitize them in some fashion, and then sell them so that I won't have to lug them around any more.

Miles Davis and John Coltrane take one step forward. The rest of you lugs take off.

Much love,

J