The Journey Begins

My nickname was Tubby. I was in elementary school, but not everyone called me that, just my best friend. But I always remember being called “Tubby”. I do remember a time, about the 5th or 6th grade that my mother bought me husky jeans, but that was okay because my cousin wore 6X clothes. My mother put me on a diet, once, for a couple of weeks. I guess I lost enough weight because I don’t remember it lasting that long. She fed me steak and other proteins… a real Dr. Atkins forerunner! But, in all that, I never considered myself fat. I didn’t run like the wind, even with my PF Flyers, but I could run. I could play softball, but was always the last one chosen. But when I look at pictures of myself from back then, with the exception of when I was on a diet, I didn’t look fat.

I think it was because I never could see myself as fat that I got fat. During my career as a soldier, I had to take an annual flight physical. In twenty years I never failed one, although a time or two I had to lose a few pounds. I was never put on what we called the fat boy program. If I had to lose a few pounds, I always did. Back in those days I was young and in my prime. I ran PT every day (despite what my children will tell you). I could outrun most of the young soldiers in my unit when I was 40. Once in Korea, when I was on the mountain at Evenreach for 4 months, I did pack on some weight. We were a self contained air traffic control outpost and we had our own chef. There were 5 of us assigned there, and whenever we would sit down to watch television, the chef brought us a hamburger or a piece of cake. While on shift, he would bring us food. Whenever I had to drive down to the base camp, I always had a huge packed lunch, usually a couple of steak sandwichs, chips, potato salad and dessert. Before long, I had ballooned up to 250 pounds. When I was reassigned back to Seoul, I went on a diet and lost 80 pounds and was 170 when I went home.

It was after I retired that I started gaining weight. There were times when I could keep it off really well, but those times started coming fewer and further between. I was doing no PT and running ice cream and cookie restaurants. Later I was always in jobs that required me to sit at a computer or desk and got very little exercise. I knew I was fat, but I never saw myself as fat, if that makes sense. One of the things that allowed me to keep deceiving myself was that my blood pressure and blood levels were those of a skinny dude! My cholesterol level never exceeded 150 at my heaviest, and was 105 at my retirement physical. So, I kept fooling myself. And yet, all the time I knew I was fat and needed to do something. In Korea I lost 80 pounds on the Dr. Atkins Diet, so over my life I would always try to pattern what I ate based on Atkins, but I was never able to do it. I have a weakness for fast food and never thought twice about having a burger or fries, if the opportunity was there to have them. In fact, I considered Whataburger as “fine dining”. Whenever I went TDY, I usually managed to lose a few pounds because I could stock my quarters with only those things I should eat. But even then, if a hamburger called my name, I was there. And despite what Jared says, you can “eat fresh” at Subway and still gain weight.

The final blow came a couple of years ago when I was going TDY to Hawaii. I had gone to the Oncologist for my semi-annual checkup and the blood pressure machine was on the fritz. The nurse told me I needed to go to my primary care doctor and have them take my blood pressure. Since I had never had high blood pressure in my life, and because I was flying to Hawaii in two days, I decided it could wait until I got back in two months. And off I flew to paradise. About a week or so later I got a call from my primary care doctor wanting me to come in and follow up on having my blood pressure checked. I explained I was TDY in Hawaii and would come in when I got home. So when I got home, I made an appointment and went in. For the first time in my life, my blood pressure was off the charts. The doctor immediately ordered an EKG and found that I was in atrial fibrillation. He ordered an immediate consultation with the Cardiologist. Jannie and I were planning a trip just before Thanksgiving to drive out to Fort Knox to see Hilary, Paul and the kids, and then stop in Arkansas for Thanksgiving with the family. The doctor said absolutely not! He finally said I could to Arkansas for Thanksgiving, but not Kentucky. Later, the Cardiologist determined that my A-Fib was being caused by hyperthyroidism and that I had to have my thyroid removed. In the meantime, I was put on some heavy drugs to lower my blood pressure and keep my blood from clotting to prevent a stroke. I had my thyroid removed and with some additional treatment, my heart was shocked back into rhythm.
With no thyroid, I gained more weight. I ballooned up to a size 50 pants. I can remember not too many years earlier when Todd and I were in Hacks Western Wear in Killeen, seeing a pair of size 50 Levis, and thinking that no one could really be that big. At the end, though, I wore size 50, and mostly because I couldn’t find a 52! I finally admitted to myself that I was now fat. I wondered if I could get the doctor to refer me for a gastric bypass. I was determined to ask him when I went in for my physical in a few weeks. At the doctor visit he told me that my last physical had all my blood numbers way elevated, although my blood pressure was being controlled by medication. He asked me if I had ever considered having a gastric bypass. I said “sign me up”.

The process from that day to the 29th of June, the day of my surgery, took about 7 months. But I did follow thru and had the surgery. I am now just a little more than a week past the procedure, and I am losing weight, learning to eat again, and changing my whole life style, at least as to how I see food in my life. My goal is to get back down to that 170 pounds I weighed when I got home from Korea those many years ago. Don’t know that I can get that far, but I will sure try. Today I am down 25 pounds from my official start weight, and I am down to wearing size 48 pants again. I feel good and am healing well. So the adventure begins. This is just the beginning of my weight loss story.

My Beaches

This is an open letter to my family and friends on the west coast, the gulf coast and the east coast. These are my thoughts and your comments are welcome; and you are welcome to pass them on, if you so desire.

I was raised on the west coast of central California. My entire life revolved around going to the beach. I love the beach. I love the sand and the salt air. I love the Monterey Bay and the Pacific Ocean. The sound of the surf breaking on the shore has been, at times, to me, very therapeutic. As a child I built sand castles and sand angles. I swam in the cold pacific and loved every minute of it. We went to the beach and always laid our towels and blankets as close to the ocean as we could get without the water running up to us and drowning out our “spot”. When the tide began to role in, we moved just a little further back. As kids, we spent entire days at the beach. On family trips to Capitola, we craned our necks to be the first one to see the ocean as we topped Depot Hill and descended down into the Village and the beach. And I knew that I would always live near the Pacific Ocean, for it captivated me.

Then life got in the way. At 19 I began serving my mission for our church and was called to serve in New England and on Long Island. I came to love another ocean – the Atlantic. Its waters were as cold as my beloved Pacific, but that didn’t matter because as a missionary, we couldn’t swim. But we could watch the boats – and even played football one P-Day on the beach at Patchogue --- in March, and had to hike over the snow to get to the sand. Later in the spring, several of us went out early on P-Day and strolled the beach. It was beautiful. And the white sand beaches rivaled the golden beaches of California. In Maine I marveled at the fishing boats and I knew that one day I would have a hide-a-way cabin on the New England Coast.

My introduction to the Gulf Coast came in the height of the Vietnam War. I was drafted and had to leave my bride in California to attend Army training ---- at an Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi. I quickly learned that Biloxi was known as the Gold Coast of Mississippi. It was really quite pretty. The white sandy beaches were not quite the caliber of what I had become accustomed on the East and West coasts, but they were nice. Biloxi sat on the shore of Biloxi Bay and the water was sheltered by barrier islands from the Gulf of Mexico. An afternoon boat trip to Ship Island and I was immediately hooked on the Gulf of Mexico. In the bay, the water was calm, much like a lake. But on the Gulf side of Ship Island, we had surf, and wind and beautiful white beaches! I knew someday I would spend many years on the beaches of The Gulf of Mexico.

About halfway thru my tour in Vietnam, my bride and baby daughter found ourselves on R and R in Hawaii. I remember Jannie and Heidi coming from the West Coast Jannie melting in the humidity. I, on the other hand, coming from the jungles of Southeast Asia, was so grateful for the dry climate of the Islands. Dying of humidity and reveling in the comfortable weather, we fell in love with Hawaii. Upon my completion of duty in Vietnam, I was stationed at Fort Rucker, Alabama. After a month or so, I reenlisted and got my choice of duty stations, and we were headed to the Island of Oahu! While this turned out to be our least favorite assignment in the Army, I did fall in love with Hawaiian beaches and the warm waters of the Hawaiian Pacific. And we had a chance to buy a condo right on the beach and at a price a young Sergeant could afford, and I knew that I would be spending much of my life on the beaches of Hawaii! All I will say is that it didn’t work out. And we headed back home to the home of Army Aviation.

We arrived at Fort Rucker in April 1973. Our first Christmas there, we had family come and visit. My mother came down and on New Year’s Day we drove down to be beach at Panama City. Heidi, Brett and Todd were all the kids we had then, and it was a beautiful day. I realized there and then that if I could go to the beach on New Year’s Day that I loved the Deep South! Over the next nearly 10 years we ventured often to the beach. The early years we found the Fort Rucker Recreation Area at Niceville, FL. It wasn’t directly on the Gulf, but on the bay. The beach was small and the water was flat and you could walk out in the water forever and the water was never deeper than your waist. With small children, it was the perfect beach. But the children didn’t stay small, and as the years flew by, so did the ages of the older kids. So it was time to move to a different beach – one with more stuff to interest the kids. So we began going to Fort Walton Beach and Panama City Beach. Some day trips; and some trips when we rented a house for the week. We had fun, and Panama City Beach became our favorite. And having been in Alabama for so long, we had come to think that we would retire from the Army there, and I was excited to think that I would be able to spend many years at the beaches in Florida.

The reality of life is that we retired in Central Texas, many, many miles from the beach. Our pool has replaced the lake and the ocean, and we have fun here. But deep in the recesses of my heart, I love the beach and when I have a chance, I go. Since we have been here, I have had the chance to go back to some of my favorite beaches. I have been to the fishing villages of New England, been TDY to Southern California for almost 3 months, living in Huntington Beach and walking in the sand almost daily. I have been to Capitola several times, and less than two years ago was able to go TDY to Oahu and stayed in a condo in Turtle Bay, on the North Shore. I spent many evenings sitting on Hawaii’s Sunset Beach, and others. To me, the beach will always be my special place and I long to visit them again in my life.

But today, many of those beaches are threatened. The habitats for many fish, oysters and water fowl have been wiped out. The beautiful marshlands are coated with oil. Wildlife is under siege. The beaches of the Louisiana Gulf Coast are being fouled. Livelihoods are threatened and the fishing industry will be destroyed for generations. Today marks the 60th day of the gulf oil disaster, and there is no fix in site. To date, nothing has worked, and the oil keeps gushing. I watch and listen to the news; I see fingers being pointed and the blame game in full force, but what I do not see is much progress, (in the words of President Obama) plugging the “damn hole”. Instead, this is what I see.

I see a speech of empty rhetoric from the Oval Office that just fixed blame, called for a new energy policy and assured us the he is on top of the situation, but I don’t see the oil flow easing.

I see the Congress, the ENTIRE Congress incensed with righteous indignation, and grilling the BP Oil execs for hours in front of the television cameras, seeking a photo op and perhaps 10 seconds of footage that can be used in a reelection commercial, but I do not see much going on to clean up the mess.

I see the executives of BP promising to make the Gulf of Mexico and its people whole, but I don’t see much money flowing into the economy and the bank accounts of the families.

What I do see is very disturbing. I hope I can make this clear and understandable. First, BP is in great trouble. We have yet to know the full scope of how much of this accident was caused by poor safety practices, etc. We may never know, but this much I do know, BP has some explaining to do.

As does the Government of the United States and its leaders, starting at the top. Why did it take over 10 days before the oil disaster was ever addressed by the President? Oh, I have heard him and many others say that he has been on top of it since day one, but that statement is not borne out by the facts. Why was it weeks before he ever bothered to leave the golf course and head to the Gulf? It was only after he was taking a beating from his own party and watching his poll numbers head south that he packed up and headed south, blaming BP and sending scores of lawyers to sue BP and whoever else they find, was the response of the government.

I find it very amusing, if amusement can be pulled from this crisis, that the President and Congress demonize BP on the one hand, and on the other say that only BP has the ability and technology to stop the leak and clean up the mess. So BP is the bad guy and the good guy, all at once.

At about the 30 day mark we heard disturbing news. The day of the explosion and the detection of the massive leak 5000 feet below the surface, several foreign governments, including Netherlands, Great Britain, and several others, offered assistance and technology to clean up the spill. The ability to skim off the oil before it reached shore. After all, it was far enough out in the gulf to allow the positioning of the equipment and operations to begin before the first drop of oil came within miles of a grain of white sand or a bed or oysters. But the administration turned down all the offers of help, in writing. Why? The reason was a 1920’s law called the Jones Act. This law requires that only members of trade unions be authorized to participate in disaster clean up. The provision of that law also allows for the President to suspend its use. Every President from the time the law was enacted to now has suspended the use of the provision when disasters have occurred, for disaster cleanup. This included the clean ups of major hurricanes like Camille and Katrina, as well as during the cleanup of the Exxon Valdez oil spill. Why now, does a President refuse help when it is available? In the Army we referred to that as the 4-Ps – Piss Poor Prior Planning. Sixty days later, we quietly go back to those governments with our hands out asking for help…. But the oil is no longer miles out to sea…it is on the shore.

Several private companies in the United States offered help with technology that could clean up the mess. They were told no. Actor Kevin Costner had developed a process that sucks oil from the sea and separates the oil from the water, and demonstrated how it worked. Through the process he developed, the oil is funneled into a container and clean salt water is sent back into the sea. He was told no. And why are there miles of protective boom sitting in warehouses throughout the country, idle? Why has the Governor of Louisiana not been given the authority by the Feds to build sand barriers to keep the oil off the beaches and out of prime fishing and oyster areas? Last week the Louisiana Governor authorized oil skimming barges to go out into the Gulf and start skimming oil – a process that was working. Why did the Coast Guard, under orders from the Department of Homeland Security shut down the operation, require all the boats return to harbor to be inspected for fire extinguishers and live vests? And why has the EPA, in the excuse of preventing an environmental disaster, stopped the use of chemicals that disbursed the oil and broke it down so that the microbes in the sea can eat the oil and the atmosphere can evaporate it? Isn’t the oil coming ashore a worse environmental disaster? I am not making this up. Check the stories in the press. They have reported all of this.

I could go on and on for pages and pages to show how the Administration, like the gang that couldn’t shoot straight, has bungled this entire operation – from the day one they claimed to be on top of it. But I am too upset. I cannot think of anything recently that has upset me more. Why? I saw on the news tonight that today the oil has started washing up on Panama City Beach!

Mr. President, you are on the golf course today at Andrews Air Force Base with the Vice President and several of the leaders of your Administration. Why don’t you put down your golf clubs and your incompetence, stop playing the blame game and looking for “someone’s ass to kick”, order and authorize the procedures that will allow the cleanup to begin and to “PLUG THE DAMN HOLE!”

Mariela Abigail Pritchard

In the April 2010 Home Teaching message, President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, spoke of listening to promptings and acting upon those promptings. He told the story of Solomon Chamberlain who, in 1816, had a dream in which he was told that he would live to see the restoration of the Lord’s gospel upon the earth. In 1830, Solomon was traveling by boat down the Erie Cannel to Canada on business. When the boat stopped at Palmyra, NY, he was prompted to get off the boat. He did. While visiting with the townsfolk, he learned of a man named Joseph Smith and his gold bible. Solomon says that when he heard the words “gold bible”, the words sent “a power like electricity [that] went from the top of my head to the end of my toes.” He met Joseph Smith and left Palmyra with 96 unbound pages of The Book of Mormon. He traveled to Canada, using the manuscript to teach of the restored Gospel. Solomon was present on that day when the Church was organized on April 6, 1830. Solomon had a prompting and acted upon it and received great blessings in his life.

I am thankful for promptings. This week has been a very special one for me as a father and grandfather because my son followed promptings given to him. Eighteen months ago a story ran in the local newspapers of a 2 month old baby girl who had been admitted to a local hospital with 9 broken bones. Her parents were in jail because of the abuse of her father. My son, Brett, an attorney heard of this case and was prompted to talk to his wife, Cindy, and see if they could get this baby. They have 5 of their own children, the youngest just one day younger than the foster baby. He spoke to the judge, and they were awarded temporary custody of this baby. This was unusual since they had not been to the certification training for foster parents. After a few days in the hospital, Mariela was released and came into their home. This baby was not an easy baby because she was not only abused and broken; she was also a “special needs” child, having a severe form of mental retardation. Following several months of having the baby in their home, Brett was prompted again that the baby should go to her family – not her parents, but an aunt and uncle. I remember the day she left their home and how Brett sobbed and sobbed. As I recall, so did we. But it was the right thing.

After just a few weeks it became obvious that the aunt and uncle could not care for the baby, and the judge ordered the baby to be placed back in the full time care of Brett and Cindy. Now they not only had her, they now wanted to adopt her. But a battle was about to ensue. Though the father had already given up his parental rights, the mother had not and the possibility loomed that when she was released from jail, she would be deported back to Mexico because she was here illegally, and take Mariela with her. Brett asked the family to fast for Mariela and his family. A few days later, we heard that the mother might give up her rights. And a sometime later, she did.

On Friday, April 30, 2010, in the District Court building in Bell County, Texas, Mariela Ruby Arismendez was adopted by Brett and Cindy. Along with her adoption came her new name, Mariela Abigail Pritchard. In the eighteen months that this baby has been in the family, she has taught us a very important life lesson – to love unconditionally. Though this baby will never walk or run, never talk or do things normal children do, she had given us a great and lasting gift. My congratulations to Brett, Cindy, Brandon, Rebekah, Rachel, Austin and Eathyn… and especially to Mariela. We love you all and the Lord has blessed you beyond your greatest dreams. Thankfully, you followed the prompting.

Random Thoughts from Me

Some random thoughts from me. Meant to provoke thought, not emotional outbursts. I offer them up and for what it costs you to read, that is what they are worth.
First, I watched the debacle today in the formerly august body of The United States Senate. I was not surprised at the line of questioning by the elite committee holding the hearings on Goldman Sachs. I thought it was a fascinating show on the part of the Democrats considering that almost all of President Obama’s cabinet members are former employees of Goldman Sachs. I am also amused that the Chairman of Goldman Sachs is not only a liberal Democrat, but a personal friend of the Obama’s. No wonder the press has had a heyday with the timing of this committee and its investigation (right when the President wants the Congress to reform and regulate Wall Street). Goldman takes a hit, pays a fine of a few million dollars and is then, somehow, exempted from the new regulations, and makes billions. The old Democrat play book is to divide and conquer and right on cue they try to pit Main Street against Wall Street.

One thing I found interesting was the insistence of the Committee for Goldman Sachs to make public all the internal emails from the company. The courts long ago have determined that emails are protected by free speech and are private. Taking emails and making public only portions of them – taking them out of context – is an old trick used by the Congress politicos of both parties, and the press. I wonder, if the Congress can force Goldman Sachs, a private company, to make public its emails; if we could make all 100 members of the Senate, who are public servants and whose emails belong to We, the People, make public their emails. I would venture they would not because they contain the very same embarrassing type content that is in the Goldman emails.

Secondly, and much shorter. I am aghast at the county I have called home, where I was born and raised; Santa Clara County, California. It seems that the all knowing SCC Commissioners have deemed McDonald’s Happy Meal toys to be fattening and dangerous to our young children. I wasn’t aware that toys contained calories or fat. Now certain meals containing more than a specified number of fat grams and calories cannot be served with toys (fries yes, plastic, no). The Nanny Statists feel that children are eating the fatty meals to get the toys, and that by eliminating the toys; children would not eat those meals and get fat.

May I suggest something else? As little as a generation ago, when my children were young, they were outside playing football, basketball, tag, or any number of activities that involved lots of running and jumping. We didn’t have the obesity problems in children then as much as we do today. Now if I ask my grandchildren if they want to play football, they do --- on X-Box or PS3. If we want to get our kids back in good health, banning a cheap toy from a Happy Meal won’t do it. How about parents being parents and turning off the X-Boxes, hand held games, and texting telephones, and doing what my mother did –running them outside and having them play hard. Turn off the games and soon they would be tossing the football. Would it really work? I say, why not give it a try.