INTRO BY ROZ NEWMAN
Since Thanksgiving Day, when
by Robert Levine
I envy my friend Rick. He eats
everything he wants—regardless
of nutritional or caloric value. At
lunchtime, twice a week, he makes a
MacDonald’s run for two Big Macs,
french fries and a chocolate shake.
After dinner, he likes to lie on the
sofa, drink a couple of beers, munch
on a bag of potato chips and watch
TV until he nods off. Five hours later,
he wakes up refreshed and ready for
a stack of pancakes with butter and
real maple syrup.
Rick weighs at least 275 pounds and
doesn’t think about physical fitness.
At 82, he is in robust health.
I, on the other hand, make an honest
attempt at keeping physically fit. I
don’t drink or smoke—never have—and
I walk the arcade and exercise in the
NST gym four times a week. I watch
what I eat and try my best to lose
weight—a frustrating, never-ending
battle, as many of you know. Maybe
I should just give up. If once in a while
I indulge in a cheeseburger or a couple
of slices of pizza, would that really
shorten my life? And why shouldn’t
I order a chopped liver sandwich
from the kosher deli—if that’s what
I crave, and—on the way home—stop
at Baskin-Robbins for a double scoop
of mint chocolate chip or Rocky Road
ice cream? Rick would say, “Why not?
Next time I’ll join you.”
the feeding frenzy began,
have you gained five or ten
unwanted pounds? Or as soon as
the guests left, did you scrape super
sweet yams baked with brown
sugar and oozy marshmallows,
a slice of pecan pie, two potato
latkas and the last of Aunt Dahl’s
plum pudding into your backyard
garbage can? If so, raccoons, and
stray dogs licked their chops and
you’re not kicking yourself.
Those of us who call North Shore
Towers home needed only to put
tempting leftovers in garbage bags
and walk them to nearby compactor
rooms, thinking “Ahah, I’ve
jump started my New Year fitness
Karen Perry and Robert Levine
were thinking ahead when they
wrote the following for The
Writers’ Circle.) Roz Newman,
by Karen Perry
In my worst dream,
Clothes swell at the seam.
I eat with much joy
Like a twelve-year-old boy.
This lifestyle is fine
’til I hit two-OH-nine
“A whale,” I wail,
“who broke the scale?”
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January 2018 ¢ NORTH SHORE TOWERS COURIER 33