"As long as I stay under 200 pounds I'll be okay" became my mantra during the 80s.

An aside--there is a theory that if you keep your weight off for 5 years or more you will not regain ALL your weight back--it proved to be true in my case--I didn't gain it ALL back but did come close.

I was still on the 'drinking diet' but now when I lost 5 pounds being hyper I would regain 6 the next day to 'sober' up with food.

I arrived in Fort Lauderdale weighing 194.25 and 2 years later, to the date, I weighed 203.5--I had gone over that 200 limit, the clothes were extremely tight--for whatever reason I wasn't able to get back on the diet that I had my initial success with so I started a few more crazy diets--Atkins (sorry, when you sit down to eat a 3+ pound steak you aren't going to lose weight), the binge and eat all you want on one day and be on the diet the other 6, and on and on.

By the way, though your stomach may physically shrink when you lose a lot of weight mine has never had a problem expanding to eat whatever I want.

I knew all the 'behavior modification' tricks: drink a lot of water before eating (doesn't help me), put your fork down between bites (I just ate faster), leave something on your plate (I did--the design!), tell the waiter to box half your portion before he brings it to the table (like I wouldn't eat it as soon as I stepped into my apartment) and so forth.

A few years earlier I had written a book (for my organization) on behavior modification regarding food and how to get motivated. I was a great motivator for/to other people but not myself.

I decided to take a 'vacation' when I first moved down to Ft. Lauderdale--to check out the restaurants to see if I wanted to work there, to enjoy the beach, cruise and live on what money I had. Unfortunately the 3rd day after I moved into my apartment I discovered The Sandpiper--a great gay cocktail lounge with a piano bar and a fine restaurant. (They also had a unique bar--a large horseshoe shaped bar whose top was all glass and bottom an aquarium--try drinking and staying sober with fish floating under your glass!) It was the 'in' bar in the city and I was lucky to meet Gino and Michael within a month. Gino was, and still is, one of my best friends as was Michael who, sad to say, died from AIDS a few years later.

In 1980 I got a job with Dan Dowd's Steakhouse--I had worked for him in NYC. Though I thought I would have a hard time adjusting from being a STAR to going back to serving tables my first night on the job it was as if I never had stopped doing it. I still loved being a server. I, also, became friends with a few of the waiters and after work we would go to the Sandpiper to drink and eat (though we had access, and did, to all kinds of food at work.) By the way, in case you aren't aware of it, the restaurant business would be in very, very serious trouble if all the gay workers walked off the job--in the various restaurants (diners, delis, 5 star, Italian, steakhouses, etc.,) places I have worked there were always a minimum of 40% of the crew who were gay.

It was August, 1981--I was getting fatter and drinking more every day and night--I had to do something about both, and figuring that the former was more of a priority and the latter 'not that bad', I decided to tackle the former 100%.

For some reason I hadn't understood that my self-esteem would rise and/or fall on my weight and/or financial conditions. Too much of the former and not enough of the latter brought me down. What a ridiculous premise to base your feelings, attitudes and everyday life on. Whether I was fat or not, had money or not, didn't make me a good or bad person, a worse or better person. I was, at all times, a caring person and that was the bottom line.

Once again I got into the battle of the bulge in a fighting mode. I was 203.75 on October 24, 1981---by December 28 I had lost 21 pounds in 17 weeks down to 181---hurray! A couple of very important things happened in the 1981-1983 span. I met the love of my life--I completely stopped drinking (haven't had a drop of alcohol since)--got a great waiter's job that would benefit my financially until they went out of business--my friend 'ice skater Mike' (not the Michael I mentioned before--he was to die in the late 80s) became the first fatality of AIDS in Broward County--Flo, who had always accepted me unconditionally died--my mother died leaving me a small inheritance, letting me stop working for awhile so I could spend more time with my love (he worked days, I worked night--he was off weekends, I was off Wednesdays and Thursdays) and afforded us an opportunity to take a driving trip to Tennessee, via New Orleans, on the way to St. Louis to see "A Chorus Line" of which I had become a 'groupie' (THAT story is in another chapter in my life)--what was destined to happen, because of circumstances, the love of my life and I parted. The pain of that was to be almost unbearable so, of course, I turned to food (like I needed an excuse!)

The 80s and 90s were a roller coaster of life as my pattern seems to have been since the beginning. A lot of bad and good things happened such as having to declare bankruptcy in the 90s and, slowly, but surely, going way over 200 pounds--way over--clinging to the fact that at least I hadn't gained all my weight back (well, that was one of the good things!)

In June of 1999 I really lucked out--I was able to move into a government subsidized apartment complex on the inter-coastal, getting a 1 bedroom apartment, electricity included, for $140!! I weighed 217.5 I, also, got one of my best waiter's job just a few blocks away.

Then I was to go on my last diet ever!


I'm really trying to remember when it all 'clicked' for me--was it September 29, 1983 (weight 205.75) with a sore throat from yelling "Bravo" and my hands all red and already getting blistered from applauding at the finale of the spectacular at the Shubert Theatre in New York when "A Chorus Line" became the longest running show on Broadway? I was with Dr. K who was able to get our seats because he knew Buddy Vest who had played Zach on tour. Outside, waiting for us, were my best friend, along with his lover, 2 other friends and the one person in the world who I had unconditionally loved--which was to be our last good time together.

Was that when I realized that I am really okay? When all I had been taught in Transactional Analysis had come to fruition? That I was able to come through so much in the next 23 years--deaths of close friends, losing the love of my life, going through bankruptcy, being on the very edge of becoming homeless, fighting fat--with a positive attitude.

On December 18, 2000 (weighing 231 pounds) I woke up in the middle of the night feeling very queasy--and didn't feel good all day. Was it emphysema? Arteries? Heart? Nothing? On December 20 I was diagnosed with arterial fibrillation--doctor said I could have had a stroke--was 58 years of smoking (3 packs a day for at least 30 of those years) finally catching up with me? Or was it the fat? My eating habits? Having never been sick, never even taking an aspirin I was now taking all kinds of medicine (good excuse for weight gains, right?)--Coumadin, Zocor, Lisinpril, etc. A quote from my diary--"My calves are killing me--can't walk without pain--what if I can't work?" A heart monitor was attached to me that I had to wear for 24 hours and my last thought before I went to sleep that night was, "Will I die tonight? I'm not ready, YET!"

On December 29 (weighing 231 pounds) I sat down and ate a whole 4 pound Southern ham, with a few side dishes, and a complete pumpkin pie (which I don't even like) topped with ice cream and, of course, about a dozen diet sodas--this is the man who knew everything about food, health, dieting, losing and putting on weight.

The morning of December 30 I called 911 and was taken to the hospital and was there until January 2, 2001, where I lost 12 pounds having gone through congestive heart failure. They had also put a stent(?) in my leg to improve blood flow.

I decided, finally, that it was time to stop playing games with my health and weight, knowing the latter would affect the former--though there is a new theory that fat people are as healthy, if not healthier, than skinny people.

The first thing I decided to do was to cut back on the smoking--no, I knew I wouldn't stop it completely and that attempting to tackle 2 big issues at the same time wouldn't work--I allowed my self 1 cigarette an hour, each hour I was awake--from that day, January 3 (weighing 219) until today I haven't gone over 18 cigarettes a day--that still hasn't impressed my doctor though as he wants me to stop completely--we don't 'argue' about it anymore as he knows I won't!

Taking my knowledge of nutrition and combing it with what I knew I was capable of and what I needed to do I devised a complete new diet for me that I knew I could follow without any problems.

A year later, January, 2002, I weighed 169--a weight I knew I would never maintain but would, at least, allow me a couple of weeks of 'vacation' from the regimen. My weight finally landed in the mid 180s which I was happy with and stayed there until December, 2005.