How I Got the Beetus, part 3: My Caramel Coloring Addiction

Hello, my name is John... and I am a sodaholic. I have already talked about my love of cake and candy. Now it is time to talk about one of the biggest reasons I ended up with type 2 diabetes: soda. Carbornated beverages have always been my crack. They are cheap, easy to get, and terrible for me.

I believe, like most issues I have, my addiction is all my parents' fault. I am just kidding, of course, but let me explain why I even brought my parents into this. When I was young, my siblings and I were not allowed to have soda. We could drink it at parties and other special occasions, but not as an everyday beverage. My father drank soda like it was water (which it basically is -- just carbonated -- but I digress...) and I would watch him. It hardly seemed fair, while I guzzled glass after glass of milk, he partook of the sweet dark brown nectar known as soda. It was no wonder that once I grew up and got out on my own, soda became my beverage of choice.

As usual, I will sidetrack here. Before I get into a discussion about my unhealthy obsession with soda, let me tell you a little bit about my addictive personality. I have always been afraid that I was predisposed to addiction and have always avoided alcohol and drugs like the plague.

If anyone has ever watched the show Taxi, you will surely remember Christopher Lloyd's character, Reverend Jim Ignitowski. He was your basic lovable burnout that did waaaay too many drugs in his life. There was an episode where they showed Jim's life before he got into drugs: he was a preppy college student who didn't want anything to do with drugs, until a girl (his girlfriend?) pressured him to try a pot brownie. In this episode, he delivers this wonderful line, saying that it has been proven that some people have a highly addictive personality and you never know, he may be one of them. He takes a bite of the brownie and his face distorts, going back to the same facial expression the later, drug-addled Jim would possess. He tells the girl to run ahead and when he's alone he grabs a bunch more brownies.

I always thought that was something that could happen to me and thought the best way to combat it would to be to avoid drugs and alcohol. I can't even stop picking my nose--I can only imagine what would happen if I got hooked on something that was truly addictive. I still have never tried drugs, but I did break my rule on alcohol. Not that I drink, but I have sampled many, many different alcoholic drinks. Usually it was to humor someone who was convinced that you could not taste the alcohol in a particular drink. I always could. I never aquired a taste for alcohol, therefore never learned to like it.

That all being said, I truly believe I am addicted to soda. Maybe it is just that this is my primary source of caffeine, but whatever the reason, I am hooked. Well, I think I have isolated my addiction to caramel coloring, because I only drink the dark-colored sodas. Cola is my first choice and when it comes to it, I am not particular. I will drink Coke or Pepsi (I favor Pepsi, but that is primarily because that is the one that seems to go on sale the most around here). I usually drink Sam's Club (generic WalMart cola) because it is still only 84 cents (or is it 87?) for a 2-liter bottle, and with the amount I drink, cost is the most important factor.

I will drink Dr. Pepper and Root Beer, but tend to avoid the Sprites, Ginger Ales, Mountain Dews, Oranges and other non-dark brown carbonated beverages. I will drink them in a pinch but only if I have to. God forbid I should drink water! I also don't care what time of day it is -- I will drink Soda at breakfast, lunch or dinner, and often imbibe at all three times of day.

Food does have some effect on when I drink soda: if I am having pancakes or eggs, soda is okay, but if I am eating a bowl of cereal, absolutely not. Cola and milk do not mix--sorry Ms. Defazzio. There are some foods, like Pizza, that I have trouble eating without my favorite beverage. This seems to confirm that I do have an addiction, because you often hear stories of how certain activities, or places will make smokers want to smoke. As soon as I am in front of a pizza, I just have to have a nice tall glass of whatever cola is available.

Not to steal material from comedian Lewis Black, but has anyone ever gone to a restaurant and decided not to eat there because they served Pepsi and not Coke, or vice versa? Do people actually refuse to drink Pepsi if the restaurant doesn't serve Coke? Some people must be beverage-loyal, because why do waitresses always ask you if Coke is okay when you ask for Pepsi, or if Pepsi is okay when you ask for Coke? Anyway, I'm drifting away from my topic, once again.

Before my diagnosis, I would drink straight-up Cola. Do you have any idea how much sugar is in a 2-liter bottle of soda? I would often drink at least a bottle a day. Who am I kidding? I could drink a bottle at a single meal. I used to buy a 2-liter bottle from the local convenience store and drink it straight out of the bottle throughout the day at work--every day. I sometimes could make a 2-liter last for two days, but most of the time it was done by the end of the work day. What do you think I drank when I got home? Yep, more (sugar) soda. So after years and years of pouring sugar down my throat, it is no surprise that I have the beetus.

Well now that I am actually making an effort to slow the progress of my disease, I have made the transition to diet cola. I have greatly reduced the amount of cola I consume, and at work I drink mostly water, with a cup or two of tea to get the caffeine my body needs. When I am at home, however, soda is the beverage of choice. At some level I have just traded filling my body with sugar with filling it with chemicals that are probably going to do as much damage, but I seem unwilling or unable to stop.

I know I should give up the soda, or at least try to cut back even more, but until scientists come out and say that each 20-ounce bottle is taking 6 months off of my life or something similar, I will keep drinking it. To think, all those years ago, my parents weren't being stingy, they were just trying to help me from getting hooked, like them. If only I had listened!

On How I got the Beetus, Part 2: Halloween Candy

Well, Halloween is finally over in our house, just in time for Thanksgiving. I don't consider Halloween to be over until the last piece of candy is gone--that is, the last piece of the candy that I want to eat--both from the leftover "to hand out" candy and the plundering of my daughter's stash. I love candy! I wish I had the self-control to avoid it at this time of year, primarily because of my type 2 diabetes, but I am powerless to resist its siren call.

We never seem to get many trick-or-treaters at our house, despite the fact that our neighborhood is crawling with the little candy-sucking fiends. I think they stay away because we don't really have an outdoor light, but it might be because everyone just hates me--just kidding! (I hope!) I would say I find the lack of candy-seeking traffic frustrating, but to be honest with you, it just means I get to eat more candy at the end of the day. This is why I always buy candy that I like.

My daughter is one and a half years old so this Halloween was her first real trick-or-treating experience. We took her around with my other three kids last year (their mom actually let me take them out), but I didn't collect any candy for her, since she was so young. I am not the type of parent who totes his child from house to house, collecting candy that my kid cannot eat. Unless you are going to put the candy in a food processor, I don't see how a child under the age of one is going to eat it. I always want to keep a jar of baby food handy on Halloween just in case we get some parents knocking on our doors trying to pull this candy-grabbing scam. Candy denied! Go to the store and buy some candy for yourselves, you cheapskates! I can see taking your baby to friends' or relatives' houses so they can see the baby in costume, but that is about it. If the child can't hold the bag, they shouldn't be trick or treating!

I could also go on a rant about kids with facial hair trick-or-treating or how much I hate kids who don't even bother dressing up, but that subject has been covered by many, many people. I did not want to write this post about the act of trick-or-treating. If you want to hear an awesome bit of comedy about trick-or-treating, give a listen to Greg Behrendt's routine on the subject. It's off his Uncool show and if you look up Cry Baby Spider Man on YouTube (or buy the DVD--I don't mind promoting it), I am sure you will find it and laugh.

Let's get back to the candy! As anyone who knows me can tell you, I love chocolate. My favorite candy bar used to be Three Musketeers, but I have grown more into a Snickers/Baby Ruth kind of guy. I like my candy with a bit more substance! The candy bar companies,however, don't seem that interested in me getting the amount of candy that I desire. They do have king-sized candy, but Halloween is all about bite-sized and fun-sized portions. At least the term "bite-size" is an accurate description of the product. The "fun-size" is a lie. There is nothing fun about a candy bar that small. It would be more accurate to call it "candy-tease-size".

I am one of the least-fussy people around when it comes to candy (or any food, for that matter.) I will eat anything that is either wholly chocolate or coated in chocolate: Milky Ways, Reese's Peanut Putter Cups, M&M's, straight Hershey's Chocolate Bars, Kit Kats, Nestle Crunch Bars, Snickers, and Almond Joys all are happily eaten and greatly enjoyed. Caramel! Ooooh goodness, I love caramel. Milk Duds, Sugar Daddy's and Babies (whatever happened to the Sugar Mama's anyway?) Peanuts... PEANUTS! Pay Day, Peanut M&M's, etc. YUUUM! I think my blood sugar shot up 200 points just from typing that.

There are some chocolatey bars that I am not super fond of, and these are the last ones I eat when the pile of candy is running out. Thankfully for my taste buds, but unfortunately for my medical condition, this is a very small list. I am sorry to say that I am not the biggest Butterfinger fan. Bart Simpson can have them--well, unless there are no other candies left. Whoppers also sit in the bucket to the very end. Something about malt balls just doesn't do it for me. Speaking of Whoppers, or about malt balls in general, does anyone ever actually just pop them in their mouth and chew away? I always break the little ball in half once it's in my mouth, and then let my saliva dissolve the malty center out so that only the chocolate remains. And then I eat the chocolate of course.

I am also not the biggest fan of the non-chocolate stuff, but I will eat it in a pinch. Starbursts, Skittles, Gummi Bears, Dots all are good. Lollipops don't really do it for me, especially Dum Dums. It will have to be a candy crisis of Armageddon proportions to eat Dum Dums. Tootsie Pops, however, I will eat. A lot of licks go into it (the Owl lies!) but you do end up with a bit of chocolate in the end. Hard candy in general has no business in Halloween. I have to be in a certain mood to eat hard candy. Butterscotches, Jolly Ranchers, generic red, green and purple candies have their place--just not in my Halloween basket. Some people complain about Mary Janes; please send them to my house if you don't want them. They are cheap, but all right in my book. When exactly did this post turn into a list of my favorite and least-favorite candies?

Regardless of my preferences in candy, I am not supposed to have any of it. Before, I would consume mass quantities of candy without a second thought. Even in a non-Halloween situation, if I wanted a candy bar, I would buy it and eat it. Now, every bit of candy I eat is accompanied by guilt. Or maybe I should say, the feeling that I am slowly killing myself. I certainly want to be around for a long time and see all my kids grow up and have kids of their own. I also want to spend as much time on this earth with my wife that I missed so much time with. But, dammit, candy is sooo goooood.

Don't even talk to me about sugar-free candy. Sure, it tastes fine, but it is much more expensive. And, not to get too graphic, but it is not nearly as kind to me coming out as it is going in. It is my preferred stool softener, in fact. I can get a bag of the sugar-free turtles and have the whole bag gone in about 10 minutes. It is like a lot of diabetic-friendly foods: yes, they are "better" for you, but if you eat 5 times more than you should, it is just as bad as if you ate the non-sugar free stuff. (Well, I could eat a bag of the sugar stuff in about 5 minutes also, so I guess it is better in the long run.)

My blood sugar levels are still a little bit high but they have been getting better. I am on a couple of medicines now and have not gotten to the point where I need insulin (though I see it coming someday, I just hope I can hold it off as long as possible). My brother recently got diagnosed with diabetes as well and he went in and had stomach surgery (not sure which one) and now does not have it. I don't know if this is an option for me or not, but I would not want to do it. I love to eat and it seems I should have enough self control to eat better. For the most part I do, but during times like Halloween (and soon Thanksgiving, and then Christmas, and then Easter...), my self control slips.

I know this post seems to ramble a bit, but it is just an example of how much I love candy. It has the power to distract me as much as any attractive woman I have ever seen (except for my beautiful wife, of course... he says, lying unsuccessfully...). I have found that the best way for me to resist candy's temptation is to keep it as far from me as possible. If I don't have candy in the house, then I can't eat it. (This is the same strategy I use for all not-so-good-for-diabetics foods). When Halloween rolls around, it becomes impossible to keep candy out of the house. You have to buy candy to give to all the little costumed beggars that come to your home. Candy is everywhere in the stores weeks before the holiday, and it is on sale. Let's not forget the candy your child brings home. You need to check it and make sure there are no razor blades or anything in it, right?

Once candy has penetrated the home it takes over my mind. I know it is in the house. I know what kind there is and which ones I want to eat. I think about it--obsess over it. And then, of course, I begin to consume it. I start having the same ridiculous debate I always have with myself when a candy influx situation has developed: Should I eat all the candy in two days and have my blood sugar spike for those two days or do I eat it slowly and prolong the higher levels for a week or two? I should do some research and find out which would be better, but again, I am a lazy researcher. As long as I don't slip into a coma, the first option seems plausible (and preferred).

On How I Got the Beetus, Pt. 1

For anyone who has known me for any amount of time, it will probably come as no shock that I have Type 2 Diabetes, or the Beetus, as I like to call it (Thanks Mr. Brimley!). Even though I am young, 41 years old last March, my diet has never been very healthy. I have always had a sweet tooth (well actually 32 sweet teeth, but who's counting). I had poured near endless amounts of carbonated sugar water down my throat and Little Debbie and I had always been close friends. Cookies, candy (in particular jelly beans), donuts, cereal, candy (Did I mention candy? Well it's worth repeating!) all have been consumed with much love and enjoyment. The thing that I love the most, however is cake.

I looooove cake. Anyway you want to serve it to me, any cake to frosting combination you choose will be devoured happily. I am weird in that I am less a fan of frosting as I am of cake, and have even been known to scrape off some of the frosting if I feel there is too much. I love cake so much that on one occasion at work, I actually picked up a piece of cake that I dropped and still ate it, even though it landed frosting side down. To this day people will say to me "Remember that time you ate the cake off the floor?" I do, and I feel no shame. With cake, the 10 second rule is extended to a full minute and a half.

Now even though I love all cake, I do have my favorites. One of my favorites has always been my friend's mother's 9 Serving Chocolate Pudding cake. Oh My God! I even refuse to use the popular acronym that all the kids are using in their tweets and text messaging these days. The cake is divine. We always referred to it as the 9 Serving Cake because that was how many it supposedly contained according to the recipe. Well it may have been 9 servings for your average person,but for me, it was 4, if that. Once, on a dare, I polished off all 9 servings all by myself. I'm not going to say that I was ready to do the Safety Dance after that, but I was in a state of chocolate-induced nirvana. The cake itself was made in the microwave and it was delicious chocolate cake on the outside, and a molten pudding like substance on the inside. And where the two layers met, it was orgasmic! Now one of the items required to make it was paper towels. They were required to keep the cake from splattering all over the microwave, I believe, although I never asked. I never cared. It was all about the cake!

One night, I was sitting at home when I received a call from my friend. He said that his mother had all the ingredients to make the cake, except the paper towels. If I had the towels and could bring them over by 9 pm, she would make the cake for me. I don't even know if I even answered him, or just ran straight to the cupboard to grab some paper towels. I don't even remember if I hung up the phone or if I left it dangling from its cord (or maybe I hung it up with my mind?) Yes kids, our phones still had cords back in those days.


Let me take one second to explain my friend's family and my relationship with them. When I got my license and a car, I spent a good deal of my time at their house. This was primarily because it was kind of the opposite of my house. That is not to say that I in anyway did not love or want to be around my parents, but at my house my parents were... well, my parents. I did not swear and certainly kept my raunchy and inappropriate sense of humor to myself. At my friend's house, however, his parents were more like my friends and I could act more like myself. I said and did things there that I would never say in front of my parents. (If blogging had been around back then, I would have happily let my friend's parents read my posts, and would have been horrified if my parents had read them.)

I told my mother I was heading over, jumped in my car and quickly drove over to their house. They lived about 10 minutes away, normally, but I pushed my little Plymouth Champ for all it was worth (about $3.57). The clock was ticking! After driving like a maniac, I pulled up in front of the house. I usually parked the car on their front lawn next to the road (where I still park when I stop by for a visit, which is not nearly often enough). I leaped out of the car and dashed for the door. To be honest, I don't even remember if I shut my door or even turned the headlights off. I grabbed the paper towels like a football and charged towards the door. Now the truth of the matter was that I was probably there with plenty of time to spare. I was also aware that my friend's mother would have cooked me the cake even if I was 20 minutes late, but I do like to make an entrance!

As I came up to the house, I saw one of my friend's brothers was holding the door open, cheering me on. Well, being the idiot that I was and a complete and utter ham, I dove head first right on through. Now, their front door opens directly into their kitchen, which is linoleumed. I hit that linoleum and kept right on sliding. I felt like Frosty the Snowman belly-whopping down the hill. I can even hear Jimmy Durante saying that "Because John was a chubby little guy, he was the best linoleum-whopper, in the world." I almost smashed my head and took out their lower cabinets. But, it got a big laugh, which I was hoping for. Well, as per the deal, I arrived on time and was rewarded with one of the greatest cakes ever created. This proved to me that the road to the Beetus is sometimes paved with good intentions and linoleum.