Letter From America: The Diet That Failed
...I had two very good friends who were interested in making money. That was not their only interest, for they were consummate musicians, but musicians have to live and that takes cash. They ventured into sales of one kind or another, including Tupperware, timeshares, stainless steel pan sets, gallons of miracle cleaners, and the Cambridge Diet....
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If like me you have been on a permanent diet for more than a score of years, then you will have sympathy with the main actor in the case I now unfold. If you have tried branded weight-loss diet products your fellow feeling for the failure will be flawless.
I had two very good friends who were interested in making money. That was not their only interest, for they were consummate musicians, but musicians have to live and that takes cash. They ventured into sales of one kind or another, including Tupperware, timeshares, stainless steel pan sets, gallons of miracle cleaners, and the Cambridge Diet.
Although at first I wasn’t keen on trying the diet, they said, "Try it for a week. Then, if it doesn’t work it won’t cost you anything." I had nothing to lose, so I said, "OK," and took a tin of the stuff. Although I said I had nothing to lose, in the first week I lost nine pounds. That impressed me so much that I told others about it and some of them tried it. I must have looked good at nine pounds lighter.
The instructions for the diet were simple enough. Mix a measure of the magic powder with a glass of water as a replacement for breakfast and lunch, eat a normal dinner, drink as much water as you want, and ‘Hey presto!’ off comes that fat. Everyone seemed pleased with his or her results, and I had some repeat orders and no complaints. Well, alright, I did get one complaint.
"It doesn’t work," said one of my friends. "I have been on it two weeks and am the same weight!" I questioned her about replacing breakfast and lunch, taking a normal dinner and filling up the empty corners with water, and she said, "Yes, I’m using it just as you told me to." I was nonplussed that after a couple of weeks she had not lost even half an ounce, but I encouraged her to keep at it until the whole tin was used up. Perhaps she was a slow starter due to a metabolic idiosyncrasy.
Two weeks later her family invited me to eat Sunday dinner with them. Their house was a large three-story home built of Yorkshire sandstone, with room enough to swing a whole parcel of tigers. Their kitchen was in the cellar, and ran the full width and length of the house. For some time we above stairs were tempted by the wonderful aromas of roasting beef, roasting potatoes and parsnips, and Bisto gravy, along with Brussel sprouts, and new baked bread.
In time our impatience was rewarded and the tempting dishes were carried up the cellar steps by an army of plate-bearers, each carrying a tray of impressive size atop of which was the joint, the Yorkshire puddings, the vegetables, the gravy, and all the aromas that arise from them.
The failed dieter was mother, and plated the dinners for the assembled tribe. It is a tribute to her that she managed to stack the plates so high without the use of greedy boards. I had never seen so much food heaped onto a plate of generous dimensions as those she filled and handed round to the diners.
The juicy dark brown slices of roast beef were as thick as doorsteps. Potatoes of the mashed and roast variety covered the plate, Brussel sprouts and Yorkshire puddings, and rich brown Bisto gravy for a topper. What a challenge! And, what is more, there was plenty of food left over for seconds, and – I shouldn’t wonder – thirds!
When mine was put before me I asked her. "Is this a ‘normal’ dinner?" She looked almost offended, but it was not in her nature to take offence. However she was serious as she answered with surprise in her voice, "Yes. This is a normal dinner." "Ah," I said, "I think I know where you are going wrong."
In the field of dieting, there is no gain without loss, and there is no loss without sacrifice. It is questionable whether the necessary deprivations of dieting can be properly described as sacrifices, because the sacrificer is always the beneficiary. If the result of deliberate privation is an increase in health and beauty, then where is the sacrifice? The relinquishment of things that will, when taken in excess, do us harm is not a sacrifice, but contrariwise a blessing, with an even greater blessing as a reward when our course is complete.
Whether it comes in a tin, a bottle, or a pill, a diet will only work for us when we work it right. The same can be said for every avenue of pursuit in life. Most often when things don’t work it is our imperfect application that undermines our efforts to improve.
The principle was best expressed by the chap who got a note in his pay package, reading:
Dear Employee,
You have been granted a 500% increase in pay. This increase becomes effective when you do.
The Boss
That works for me!
Other Stories by Ronnie Bray:
http://www.2theheart.com/author_ronnie_bray
http://www.meridianmagazine.com/voices/011024summer.html
Mormon Apologetics: http://www.fairlds.org/
