<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18714534</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:29:22.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Fig</title><subtitle type='html'>The thoughts, opinions, and daily activities of a retired Boomer in Chicagoland.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Big Fig</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10342683021984034268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1998/1838/320/019_19.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18714534.post-113241264304891879</id><published>2005-11-19T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-19T07:04:03.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; SSI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I recently received this email and thought it was interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SOCIAL  SECURITY:&lt;br /&gt;Franklin Roosevelt, a Democrat, introduced the&lt;br /&gt;Social  Security  (FICA) Program. He promised:&lt;br /&gt;             1.) That participation in the  Program  would be&lt;br /&gt;                   completely voluntary,&lt;br /&gt;             2.) That the participants  would  only have to pay&lt;br /&gt;                  1% of the first $1,400 of their annual incomes   into&lt;br /&gt;                  the Program,&lt;br /&gt;             3.) That the money the participants elected   to&lt;br /&gt;                  put into the Program would be deductible from their&lt;br /&gt;                  income for  tax  purposes each year,&lt;br /&gt;             4.) That the money the participants put  into  the&lt;br /&gt;                  independent "Trust Fund" rather than into the&lt;br /&gt;                  General  operating fund,  and therefore, would only be&lt;br /&gt;                  used to fund the Social  Security Retirement  Program,&lt;br /&gt;                  and no other Government program,  and,&lt;br /&gt;             5.) That the annuity  payments to the retirees&lt;br /&gt;                  would never  be taxed as income&lt;br /&gt;             Since many  of us have paid into FICA for years  and&lt;br /&gt;             are now receiving a Social Security  check every&lt;br /&gt;             month -- and  then finding that we are getting taxed&lt;br /&gt;             on 85% of  the money we paid to  the Federal&lt;br /&gt;             government to "put away," you may be  interested in&lt;br /&gt;             the  following:&lt;br /&gt;            Q: Which Political Party took Social  Security  from&lt;br /&gt;                the independent "Trust" fund and put it into the&lt;br /&gt;                General  fund  so that Congress could spend it?&lt;br /&gt;            A: It was Lyndon Johnson and   the&lt;br /&gt;                Democratically-controlled House and Senate.&lt;br /&gt;                            ~~~~****~~~~&lt;br /&gt;             Q: Which  Political  Party eliminated the income tax&lt;br /&gt;                 deduction for Social Security  (FICA)  withholding?&lt;br /&gt;            A: The Democratic Party.&lt;br /&gt;                            ~~~~****~~~~&lt;br /&gt;             Q: Which  Political Party  started taxing Social&lt;br /&gt;                 Security annuities?&lt;br /&gt;             A: The  Democratic Party,  with Al Gore casting the&lt;br /&gt;                 "tie-breaking" deciding vote  as President of  the&lt;br /&gt;                 Senate, while he was Vice President of the  U.S.&lt;br /&gt;                            ~~~~****~~~~&lt;br /&gt;            Q: Which  Political Party decided to start giving&lt;br /&gt;                 annuity  payments to immigrants?&lt;br /&gt;             MY FAVORITE :&lt;br /&gt;           A: That's right! Jimmy  Carter and the  Democratic&lt;br /&gt;                 Party. Immigrants moved into this country,  and at&lt;br /&gt;                 age 65, began  to receive SSI Social Security&lt;br /&gt;                 payments! The  Democratic Party gave these  payments&lt;br /&gt;                 to them, even though they never  paid a dime into it!&lt;br /&gt;             Then,  after doing all this lying and thieving  and&lt;br /&gt;             violation of the original  contract (FICA), the&lt;br /&gt;             Democrats turn  around and tell you that  the&lt;br /&gt;             Republicans want to take your Social  Security away!&lt;br /&gt;             And the worst  part about it is, uninformed  citizens&lt;br /&gt;            believe it!&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18714534-113241264304891879?l=thebigfig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/feeds/113241264304891879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18714534&amp;postID=113241264304891879' title='45 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113241264304891879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113241264304891879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/2005/11/ssii-recently-received-this-email-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Big Fig</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10342683021984034268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1998/1838/320/019_19.jpg'/></author><thr:total>45</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18714534.post-113227210311897152</id><published>2005-11-17T15:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T16:01:43.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Pissed Off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Pissed off" is a very discriptive phrase that many of us use each day, to discribe how we feel occassionally.  I, personally,  have been using it since I was a pre teen, when it was very cool to say things like that.  Actually, come to think of it, I wonder how this phrase came to mean angry.  I don't really see the connection between the two.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyway, I never thought too much about it until I saw a piece on "Sunday Morning" about profanity.  Later, I was talking and was about to say "pissed off", and thought to myself, "You can do better than that."  The problem was that if took me a few seconds to think of something else to say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Some of these common vularities are dumbing us down.  As adults, it is no longer cool  to use profanity to describe things.  These phrases are to easy to use, and reduce our use of the language.  I guess that's OK for a teen, but not for an adult.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;What I could have said was that I was very angry, provoked, indignant, furious, enraged, irate, incensed, ireful, hot, irascible, irritated, indignant, provoked, enraged, exasperated, or infuriated.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In proofing this posting, I think I've used the word "cool" too much. Now I'm going to have to work on that too. Life is tough. (I mean difficult)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18714534-113227210311897152?l=thebigfig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/feeds/113227210311897152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18714534&amp;postID=113227210311897152' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113227210311897152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113227210311897152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/2005/11/pissed-offpissed-off-is-very.html' title=''/><author><name>Big Fig</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10342683021984034268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1998/1838/320/019_19.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18714534.post-113197453733591543</id><published>2005-11-14T04:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T05:22:17.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One Good Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So what are we going to do about all these lying politicians? They lie to us all the time about everything. I don't care what the topic is, they get in front of that camera, look us in the eye, and start the old B.S. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This isn't just one party either. It's Republican and Democrat. It's everyone in the White House, Congress, and everyone else in Washington. It's local yocals too. The Mayor, and everybody else on camera. Lies, lies, lies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Your sitting at home watching the tube, and somebody gets on camera talking about something, and you say to yourself, that's a lie! It's nothing in his manner or speech, but your knowledge of how the world goes round makes you positive that this guy is lying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Then, after the pol spins his lie, everybody takes it and runs with it. All the news outlets, commentators, etc. So now, with the lie being repeated so many times, it takes on a life of its own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;How come none of the commentators, except talk radio, say "Did you hear the President's press conference? Quite a few lies, eh? Boy, that guy lies a lot, doesnt't he? Now on to other news."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When some pol gets caught in a lie, it's a real big deal. People can't believe it. They'll never trust him or elect him again, and so on. Why don't they realize that these guys are lying , most of the time, about most things?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well, enough of that. I have a solution.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Every time a public figure gets in front of a TV camera, he's going to stick his finger in a sensor for a lie detector that has a big ol' display with a needle that swings from truth to lie. Put that display needle on top of the speakers podium, and off we go. Let the reporters ask anything they want, let the pol say anything he wants, just make sure that needle stays in the camera shot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I say it's foolproof. All of a sudden these guys will either have to tell the truth, give no public interviews, or try to sneak an honest midget behind the podium to stick his finger in the sensor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This could be extended to the Senate floor. The Senator gets up to make a speech, sticks his finger in the sensor, and now let's see want you're going to say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;How about using this during the campaigne? Joe Shmoe gets up in front of a crowd of workers at a big union meeting to tell them how much he cares about them and how they should elect him in order to change things with those evil pols in Washington, and all the while his lie detector needle in pointing to lies, lies, lies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The President gives his State of the union address. Oops, there goes the needle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The Governor flys out to where there was a natural disaster in his state to make a public statement. He stands in front of a trailer park that's been half destroyed by a tornado, and begins to talk about how devestated he is and how hard he will work to help these poor victimized people. Oh crap, there goes the needle!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well, how shall we get the ball rolling on this thing, you say. These lying politicians will never pass a law mandating that a lie detector has to share the podium with them. That will never happen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;What we need is one good man that tells the truth all the time. He can already be elected, or he can be in a campaign for office. This guy will voluntarily put his lie detector on the podium every time he speaks. And whenever anybody repsponds to him, he says "Would you be willing to repeat that statement with your finger in here?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I say it would be great. It would catch on in a big way. Where it would go from there has a lot of pssibilities, and will be a good topic for a future blog. Honest!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18714534-113197453733591543?l=thebigfig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/feeds/113197453733591543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18714534&amp;postID=113197453733591543' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113197453733591543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113197453733591543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/2005/11/one-good-manso-what-are-we-going-to-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Big Fig</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10342683021984034268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1998/1838/320/019_19.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18714534.post-113181081114492706</id><published>2005-11-12T07:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-12T12:32:26.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Jackdaws&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I think I need to get a part time job. The reason is that since I retired a year ago, my life has been changing in subtle ways, some of them I like, others, I do not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I will focus on the things I don't like in this post, because I'm sure nobody cares about the things that I am happy with in my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am reading more than ever, and enjoying it. I like novels with some action in them, and not to complex. I am currently into books by Ken Follett who a lot about spies back in the recent past. I just finished "Jackdaws" about a group of women French resistance fighters battling the Nazis. I ended up having dreams about the Nazis. I think my sub conscious should have more problems to concern it self with than Nazis. I used to dream about murdering my boss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am doing things at uncool times. I go to the hardware store on weekday mornings, instead of Saturday morning. I read the daily paper shortly after it hits the driveway. I can take advantage of the Wednesday special at the video store, which is "out by 10AM and back by 5PM for $1.00. I cut the grass mid week in the AM. I get my garbage out to the curb early, and am very punctual about taking the cans back in. I wash my car when it gets dirty. I drive 5 mph below the speed limit becuase I don't care when I get somewhere, and also to piss people off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;If a disaster happens somewhere in the world, I usually know about it before dinner. I have a leisurely breakfast and lunch at home. I play with my dog more. I take a nap sometimes in the afternoon, after the Debra Norville's show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm back into my old hobby of stained glass. I've gotten in touch with two old boyhood friends, and one college buddy.  My oldest son wants to drop out of middle management, and become a pirate.  I find this mildly amusing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This crap has got to stop. I'm going to hit the want ads --- right after my nap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18714534-113181081114492706?l=thebigfig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/feeds/113181081114492706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18714534&amp;postID=113181081114492706' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113181081114492706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113181081114492706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/2005/11/jackdawsi-think-i-need-to-get-part.html' title=''/><author><name>Big Fig</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10342683021984034268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1998/1838/320/019_19.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18714534.post-113147263500141405</id><published>2005-11-08T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-08T09:57:15.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The Key Incident&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Before I tell you about my keys, let it be known that I am now among the millions of American men that weigh in the 200s. I woke up this morning, climbed on my digital scale, and after the beep, I was rewarded with a readout of 299.6. Oh, wonder of wonders. I feel down right wiry. My next goal is 295.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;About a week ago, I lost my keys. Very upsetting. The ring contained the keys to my two cars, the house key, and my "clicker" for one car. (The other car doesn't have a clicker, but it has a keypad on the door, almost as good. I only have three keys. Actually, I'm a minimalist with regard to keys. The reason for that is that I used to be a key snob. I felt that the more keys I had, the more important I was, (this was on the job). One day, when I was an assistant principal, I flashed my many school keys to the principal, and made some kind of bragging remark about them. He looked at the keys like I was dangling a big turd and said, "Do you know who has the most keys on his ring in this building? The custodian, so don't think your so cool." Nothing against custodians, but he made his point. He flashed his three keys, (house, car, school). Ever since then I have strived to reduce my key responsibilities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Back to the loss of my keys. What upset me more than anything was that on my key ring was a leather strap made for me by my youngest son when he was just a lad in middle school. It was engraved with the word "DAD". The lettering had faded years ago, but I've still keep it on my key ring all these many years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I looked everywhere, and no keys. This morning a lady rings the doorbell. She said, "Did you lose your keys?" "Yes, yes I did," I gushed. She produced my keys and said that her daughter spotted them lying in the street as she and her were riding their bikes past my house. She noticed the Mercury in my garage, and being a clever lady, figured they might be mine. I thanked her profusely, and she pedaled away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The key ring looked like it went through World War II. The house key was snapped in half, the clicker was all beat up and no longer worked. The two car keys still worked, however. My leather strap had ripped off the ring, but she had found that too, lying next to the key ring! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Nevertheless, I am very happy to be reunited with my keys and leather "DAD" strap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'll get everything repaired and figure some way of reattaching the strap. Another real life drama comes to a positive conclusion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18714534-113147263500141405?l=thebigfig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/feeds/113147263500141405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18714534&amp;postID=113147263500141405' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113147263500141405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113147263500141405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/2005/11/key-incidentbefore-i-tell-you-about-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Big Fig</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10342683021984034268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1998/1838/320/019_19.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18714534.post-113135870315193298</id><published>2005-11-07T04:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T02:44:07.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is my first experience with blogging. My son bullied me into having my own blog site, so here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am currently into is losing weight. We went on vacation to New england for three weeks, and when we got back, behold I had lost about 8 pounds. Now that's down from a wiry 315 to 307. At six feet tall, in my prime, I say I'm 100 pounds too high. So, this unexpected weight loss inspired me to go for the gold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My system is based on a comment a guy made to me 43 yars ago in Health class in high school. This guy was a little beefy, and he said he was losing weight by eating steak and salad for dinner each night. For some reason, I've always remembered that comment, so I've made my own version of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For breakfast it is V-8, (I drink straight it from the bottle. My wife knows this and won't touch it) a banana, and Mini Shredded Wheat cereal (maple flavored) with blueberries on top. Lunch is a cup of soup, ( I'm currently into Progresso's Lentil soup) and a sandwich (easy on the Buddig with red onion and tomato). Dinner is big salad with Balsalmic vinegar and a little olive oil and a small steak or a chicken breast. I snack on pears if necessary.&lt;br /&gt;It's been about a month, and I'm am down to a lean 301.6, as of yesterday morning. It would have been lower except a week ago we went out to dinner with another couple. I had a bowl of soup, a blackened chicken breast sandwich, fries, and two beers. I gained 5 pounds! "It's only water," my wife said, trying to console me. Well, it's taken about a week to re lose that "water". If I ever go out to dinner again, I'll have steak and salad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a big test for me. We had my family over to watch the Bears (on my new 60 inch Sony DLP TV, ain't America great?). I had a steak, salad and a little corn. I passed on the red potatoes, and some chex mix my wife put out. I had one beer. My son and son in law both had about six each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My current problem is weighing in this morning. You see, my system is to way in as soon a I get up in the morning, before "doing anything important", if you get my drift. To my pleasant surprise, I was 301.6 when I got up, and this after a Sunday with the "Fam", as Bill Murray would say in "What about Bob?" The problem is that it's 3:00 AM. There's no way I'm eating, drinking, or anything else until at least 6:30 AM, so that I can get an accurate measurement. So I guess I'll just either gut it out until then, or go back to bed after this blogging thing. I'm hoping for 300.5!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And the then it is on to the wonderful world of the 200's. I'll keep you informed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18714534-113135870315193298?l=thebigfig.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/feeds/113135870315193298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18714534&amp;postID=113135870315193298' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113135870315193298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18714534/posts/default/113135870315193298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thebigfig.blogspot.com/2005/11/this-is-my-first-experience-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Big Fig</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10342683021984034268</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1998/1838/320/019_19.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
