Scale-boarding: Indoor Sport or Self-inflicted Torture?
Monday, February 11, 2013
Saturday morning I weighed 210. Sunday morning the scales said 140.
What? You don't believe I lost 70 pounds night before last? That's what the scales said and they still say it and scales don't lie.
I've been retaining fluid for several close friends, so I think it was mostly water. % )
I use the same scales that I used at age 5, the first time I ever got weighed at home. I'm talking a 1953 vintage steel Health-O-Meter in avocado green with chrome trim. For 40 years there was a piece of deep blackish-green linoleum embossed to look just like the skin of a perfectly ripe Haas avocado on the platform of the scales. The rest of the body was painted the fresh, delicate green of that ripe avocado's interior. It was a work of Art. Museum quality.
I have measured the major events of my life on these scales. For example, when I arrived home with my first pair of spike heels (red), I put on my Easter outfit (a navy blue suit), complete with hat and gloves (white), and went straight to the scales, for surely such a momentous occasion would have an effect on my weight. I don't remember if it did or not, but my high heels each landed exactly above two openings in the steel body of the scales and right through the linoleum they went, leaving a testament to the day born as indelibly on the platform of my scales as the chicken pox scar between my eyebrows marks my face. Today, a full 20 years after the linoleum, cracked and brittle, fell to the bottom of a moving crate, the holes in the scales still whisper "red spikes" to me.
Yes, I have been dragging my avocado alter-ego around with me for about 60 years now. (Do you have any idea what it feels like to be able to make such a statement? hold on a sec., I'm doin' a panic attack here.) I have had the scales set 10 pounds heavy since the turn of the century, but there is still about a 15 pound variable in what I weigh depending on the temperature, what direction they are facing, and which way I lean. I am down with this. I always know what I'm going to weigh when I go to the doctor's, and it is always a couple of pounds less than the figure I decide to go with each day re my scales. In the mean time I have had untold hours of amusement scale-boarding. Feeling tough? Oka-a-ay - what's the most you can weigh? (GR-r-r-r 216) Suckin' hind tit? (that's farm talk) It's okay sweetie, just lean to the left and back and don't stay there too long ( AH-h-h- 204).
It was bound to happen eventually. Yesterday morning I had an accident. I nudged the scale to a better part of the bedroom.... over near the window. Ok, ok..., maybe I kicked it a little. Anyway, when I mounted the platform the dial read 140 pounds. Three times I did this. GR-r-r-r 147. AH-h-h-h 134. Straight up and in the eye - 140.
Of course I posted it. That's the least I could do for all of my friends out there who feel that scales don't lie.
Look, I haven't weighed 140 since I was in my 20s. At first this reading gave me a much needed belly-laugh, but now I'm kinda bummed, because not only am I gonna have to use new math to figure my weight from here on out, tomorrow morning I am going to gain 70 pounds.